"How can you say so? Our lives would be a dry desert without the girl
aviators to liven things up," declared Jimsy.
"Jimsy Bancroft, if you are going to get poetical you'll leave this
car," cried Jess.
"That's just it," declared Jimsy, "girls can cry their eyes out over
romantic heroes, but when a regular fellow starts to get 'mushy' they
go up in the air."
Amidst the chorus of protestations aroused by this ungallant speech Roy
started the car. Swiftly it sped out of the grounds; but not so swiftly
that the keen eyes of Lish Kelly did not see it.
He called Herman Le Roy, the Cuban aviator, to him.
"Le Roy, you are not in the altitude contest," he said, "hop in my car
with me and we'll follow those kids. They're up to something."
The Cuban looked at him and smiled, showing two rows of white teeth
under his small, dapperly curled mustache.
"I think, Senor Kelly, you have been up to something yourself."
"Well, you know what I told you. We want that five-hundred-dollar prize,
Carlos, and by the looks of things if we don't do something those kids
are likely to get it.
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