As the friends now parted, Bob Giddings' last words were: "Don't forget to get that new model airplane done by Saturday, Paul. I'm crazy to see it." "I'll be ready for you," was Paul's assurance; "but remember to keep this under your hat. It's to be a secret test, you know." "Trust me," said Bob. CHAPTER II THE BROTHERS' INVENTION When Paul Ross reached home that afternoon, it was to find someone there whom he had not expected to see. A tall, broad-shouldered young man, with a bronzed face and pleasant blue eyes, sat in the living-room, talking to his mother. Paul rushed forward and joyfully grasped his brown hand. "Why, John!" he exclaimed, "I didn't expect to find you here!" "Of course you didn't, Buddy," was the smiling response of the young man, who was wont to call his younger brother by this affectionate war-mate term. "The fact is, as I was just telling mother, two days ago I didn't know myself that I would be anywhere at this hour except speeding through the air between New York and Washington on my usual mail run in my trusty old Martin-bird. As it is, Buddy, it looks now as if neither you nor I would ever handle her controls again." There was a note of sadness in John's voice as he said this. "Why, what's the matter, John?" asked Paul quickly. "It's this way, lad: You know I told you and mother a couple of weeks ago, when I was here on my last regular lay-over, that Congress was talking about cutting a big slice out of the Air Mail appropriation, in order to reduce expenses. Well, the upshot of it all is, they made the cut, and not having enough money to carry on the service as it has been, the head of the Air Mail has ordered the abandonment of all flying divisions except the main line between New York and San Francisco. Only those pilots will be kept. So that's why I am here." "Won't they take you on again soon, John?" asked Mrs. Ross. "I fear not, mother," replied her elder son, shaking his head soberly. "Our field-superintendent did say that he would give me the first opening in the transcontinental line, since my records lead the bunch, and he even offered to displace one of the boys on that route and put me in his place, but--" "But you refused," interrupted Paul, with conclusive pride in his big brother. John grinned. "Well, put it that way if you like, Buddy," said he; "anyhow, as I said before, here I am. Some chap may quit or 'go West'--you know a round dozen of the poor chaps have been killed in the last year--and that may let me back in again. But I won't wait for it; I'll get after some of the commercial flying companies next week and see if I can't land a berth with them. I simply can't think of working on the ground. I guess I should have been born a bird, mother, instead of a human being, I love flying so much."