Fanning knows what I mean. Hey?"
He glanced up at his ill-favored son.
"I know fast enough," said that young hopeful, "but it's a risky matter.
Why don't you get somebody else to do it?"
"Pshaw! It's only filing off a padlock and then smashing a few of the
motor parts," said the old man, in as calm a tone as if he were proposing
a constitutional walk, "that's soon done, hey?"
A sharp knock at the door interrupted any reply Fanning might have been
about to make.
"Come in," snarled Mortlake. "It's the mail, I suppose," he said, turning
to old Mr. Harding, but, to his surprise and consternation, the opened
door revealed Roy Prescott. Close behind him came Mr. Bell and Peggy, with
Jimsy and Jess bringing up the rear.
"To what am I indebted for the pleasure of this visit?" asked Mortlake,
glowering at the newcomers, as they filed in, and Mr. Bell closed the door
behind them. "Why didn't you send up your cards, and I'd have torn them up
and thrown them out of the window."
"Just what I thought you'd do, so we came up ourselves," said Mr. Bell
cheerily. "Now, look here, Mortlake--no, sit down. I've come up here to
right a wrong. You've tried to do all in your power to injure these young
people, whose only fault is that they have built a better aeroplane than
you have. It's their turn now, and you've got to grin and bear it.
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