achine shop in which the aeroplanes for the
desert mines were manufactured.

After this Miss Prescott could make but a poor stand against the united
urgings of five impetuous, enthusiastic young people. The air was filled
with plans of all sorts. Jimsy was for going at once, but it was finally
decided to meet again and set a definite date for a start. In the
meantime there were parents' consents to be obtained, plans laid for the
route to be followed, and various things purchased for the aerial trip.

All this occupied some time, and it was not till a week later that the
last difficulty in connection with the motor flight had been
straightened out and the three aeroplanes stood ready, in Roy's hangar,
for a tour that was to prove eventful in more ways than one.

It was just after dawn on the day of the start that Roy and Jimsy for
the last time went over every nut and bolt on the machines and declared
everything in perfect readiness for the trip. Breakfast was a mere
pretence at a meal; excitement got the better of appetites that morning.

Beside the winged machines sputtering and coughing as if impatient at
the delay, was a large and comfortable red touring car. At the driver's
wheel of this vehicle was seated a small, "under-done"-looking man, in a
chauffeur's uniform of black leather. This was Jake Rickets.

"Well, Jake, we're all ready for a start," announced Roy, at last.

The small man, whose hair was fair, not to say pale, glanced at the
glowing boy with an expression of deep melancholy.

"Yes, if something don't happen," he declared, in tones of deep
pessimism.

"Jake's never happy unless he's foreboding some disaster," explained
Roy to Bess, who happened to be standing by drawing on her gloves.

"It don't never do to be too sure," murmured the melancholy Jake,
"'cos why? Well, you can't most generally always tell."

"Everything ready?" cried Peggy at last, as Miss Prescott got into
the car.

"As ready as it ever will be," merrily called back Bess, who was already
seated in the little green _Dart_.

The chorus of engine pantings and explosions was swelled by the roar of
Roy's big biplane and the rattling exhaust of Jimsy's fierce-looking
_Red Dragon_.

The _Golden Butterfly_, which was equipped with a silencing device, ran
smoothly and silently as a sewing machine. Peggy sat at the wheel, while
Jess reclined on the padded seat placed tandemwise behind her. It made a
wonderful picture, the big whit