me how
to start my own 'copter, and by noon they'd be laughing about it in
every bar from Pittsburgh to Plattsburg. Sneaky Literate trick!" They
went to the lift, and found the door closed in their faces. "Oh,
confound that boy!"

Claire pressed the button. Ray must have left the lift, for the
operating light went on, and in a moment the door opened. He crowded
into the lift, along with his daughter and Olaf.

On the landing stage, Ray was already in the 'copter, poking at
buttons on the board.

"Look, Olaf!" he called. "They just shifted them around a little from
the summer model. This one, where the prop-control used to be on the
old model, is the one that backs it up on the ground. Here's the one
that erects and extends the prop,"--he pushed it, and the prop snapped
obediently into place--"and here's the one that controls the lift."

An ugly suspicion stabbed at Chester Pelton, bringing with it a
feeling of frightened horror.

"How do you know?" he demanded.

Ray's eyes remained on the instrument board. He pushed another button,
and the propeller began swinging in a lazy circle; he pressed down
with his right foot, and the 'copter lifted a foot or so.

"What?" he asked. "Oh, Jimmy showed me how theirs works. Mr. Hartnett
got one like it a week ago." He motioned to Olaf, setting the 'copter
down again. "Come here; I'll show you."

The suspicion, and the horror passed in a wave of relief.

"You think you and Olaf, between you, can get that thing to school?"
he asked.

"Sure! Easy!"

"All right. You show Olaf how to run it. Olaf, as soon as you've
dropped Ray at school, take that thing to the Rolls-Cadipac agency,
and get a new one, with a proper instrument board, and a proper
picture book of operating instructions. I'm going to call Sam Huschack
up personally and give him royal hell about this. Sure you can handle
it, now?"

He watched the 'copter rise to the two thousand foot local traffic
level and turn in the direction of Mineola High School, fifty miles
away. He was still looking anxiously after it as it dwindled to a tiny
dot and vanished.

"They'll make it all right," Claire told him. "Olaf has a strong back,
and Ray has a good head."

"It wasn't that that I was worried about." He turned and looked, half
ashamed, at his daughter. "You know, for a minute, there, I thought ... I
thought Ray could read!"

"Father!" She was so shocked that she forgot the nickname they had
given him when he had a