said, "you've always beaten me out--at school, at
college, and twice since we've both lived in Sandy Beach. There'll be a
third time, and you can bet that I'll not forget the injury you've done
me. Good night."

He was gone, a sinister sneer still curling his lip.

"Well," said Mr. Bell, looking round him with a smile, "who says that all
the adventure and excitement is in the West?"

"Not the Girl Aviators, certainly," laughed Peggy, stealing a look at
Regina. The girl colored, and then, after a visible effort, she spoke.

"I want to say something," she said, and stopped. Her father bent on her
an encouraging look. Bravely she nerved herself, and went on.

"It--it was I who dressed up like you that night, Roy Prescott, and--and
I'm awfully sorry."

"Oh, that's all right," said Roy uneasily, and then, "say, you can run
like a deer!"

In the laugh which followed they left the room and adjourned to a jolly
supper, at which, who should walk in but Aunt Sally Prescott and Mr. and
Mrs. Bancroft. They had been reached by telegraph early that morning, and
had started on the next train to Roy. How the hours flew! It was almost
midnight before they knew it. In the midst of the feast, a waiter brought
in a message to Mr. Bell. The mining man excused himself and left the room
for a short time. When he returned he was smiling.

"I've just signed on two new workmen for the mine," he said, "and I think
they'll make good."

"Who are they?" asked Roy.

"Well, one answers to the name of Eccles. The other was, on one occasion,
a foreign spy, but he bears the very American name of Palmer. They leave
for the West to-night."

How the Prescott aeroplane, under Roy's management, captured the coveted
highest number of marks for proficiency, and how a sensation was caused by
the sudden withdrawal of the Mortlake aeroplanes from the naval contest,
all my readers are familiar with through the columns of the daily press.
The paper, though, didn't print anything about an offer made by Pierce
Budd to Eugene Mortlake to finance the _Cobweb_ type of machine. Needless
to say, the offer was not accepted. Mortlake, a changed man, is now
building and selling aeroplanes in a far eastern principality, and they
are good ones, too. No letters are more welcome than those that arrive
occasionally from him and are delivered at Pierce Budd's home in New York.

Under Lieutenant Bradbury's kindly auspices, Roy instructed a class of
young seamen in t