"They are opening their place with a party of
men, some crack amateur aviators--and myself. Do you know the
Sherrills?"
"Perhaps I do," said Diane discouragingly. "Why didn't you float about
and smoke on Mr. Sherrill's lake?" she added curiously. "It's ever so
much bigger than this."
"Circumstances," began the young man with dignity, and lighted another
cigarette. "My mechanician," he added volubly, after an uncomfortable
interval of silence, "is an exceedingly bold young man. He'll fly over
anything, even a cow. Isn't really mine either; he's borrowed, too.
Dick keeps a few extra mechanicians on hand, like extra cigars. It's
Dick's fault I'm out alone. He lent my mechanician to another chap and
nobody else would come with me."
"I thought," flashed Diane pointedly, "I thought your mechanician was
somewhere in a tree."
The aviator coughed and reddened uncomfortably.
"Doubtless he is," he said lamely. "He--he most always is. Do you
know, he spends a large part of his spare time in trees--and
swamps--and once, I believe, he was discovered in a chimney. I--I'd
like to tell you more about him," he went on affably. "Once--"
"Thank you," said Diane politely, "but you've really entertained me
more now than one could expect from a gentleman in your distressing
plight.
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