You go, Frank. Perhaps
Mr. Quackenboss would let you have a horse; or if you cared to, you give
Percy a hail, and he'd take you back to town, I reckon. Goodness knows
he owes you a heap, after the way you saved his life the time he was
wrecked up on Old Thundertop."
What Andy referred to was a very exciting event which had occurred not
so very long before, and which was fully treated in the volume preceding
this.
Frank shook his head in the negative.
"I never want to ask any favor of Percy Carberry," he said, resolutely.
"And if Mr. Quackenboss can't let me have a horse to ride, why, the
walking is good, and I can make it in less than an hour. So don't
mention that again please, Andy."
"It's too late now, anyhow," remarked the other, drily, "because there
they go, spinning down the road like wildfire. Percy never does anything
except in a whirl. He's as bold as they make them, and the only wonder
to me is that he hasn't met with a terrible accident before now. But
somehow he seems to escape, even when he smashes his flier to kindling
wood. His luck beats the Dutch; he believes in it himself, you know."
"But some day it's going to fail, and then he'll never what happened to
him," declared Frank. "Of all the professions in the world, that of a
flying machine man is the one where a cool head and quick judgment are
the things most needed.
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