Once Bob was partially awakened by Della, who demanded indignantly if
he intended to sleep his young life away and commanded that he awaken
Frank in order that she and her guest might have company. Bob merely
grunted unintelligibly, and Della retired in a high state of
indignation, resolved to give the boys a "piece of her mind" when
finally they should arise.

That event, however, did not come to pass until mid-afternoon. Bob on
his sister's departure the first time had gotten up and locked the
doors of his room and that of Frank, which adjoined. Thus, although
Della several times came to the door and knocked, she received no
reply.

The "piece of her mind," however, went undelivered when once the boys
did arise, for in the absorbing story which they had to tell of the
night's occurrences, her sense of injury evaporated speedily. The
recital occupied considerable time. At its conclusion, Bob, who had
been looking so frequently at Della's guest, Marjorie Faulkner, as to
cause Frank to chuckle to himself, suggested they play tennis. But
Della protested.

"That's all we've had to do to-day while you boys slept," she said.
"We're tired of tennis. Propose something else."

"The airplane's out of commission, or I'd take you up for a flight,"
said Bob. "Wouldn't you like that, Miss Faulkner?"

"Oh, wouldn't I, just," she exclaimed. "I've never been up in an
airplane, and I'm dying to try it. What is it like? Does it make you
sick?"

Bob grinned. Before he could reply, Frank interrupted.

"Say, Bob," he exclaimed, "we ought to telephone the factory over in
Long Island City right away, and tell them to send a couple of
mechanics over here with new wings and whatever else is needed. First,
though, we ought to make a thorough inventory to see what we need."

Bob agreed, and, accompanied by the girls, they repaired to the
hangar. After returning to the house, Frank rang up the airplane
factory, and gave the necessary orders. He was told the mechanics
would arrive the next day with all that was required, but that putting
the plane into condition would take three or four days at the least.

"Just when I had it all in good shape for flying," mourned Bob, on his
chum's return. "Oh, what I'd do to that little monkey, Higginbotham,
if I had the chance."

He grinned as he uttered the threat, yet it could be seen that he was
badly cut up by the damaging of the plane. Frank said nothing, but
threw an arm over his shoulder