He jumped up, stretched himself, and made for the car, to get out the huge hamper of lunch. “Say,” he called back, “Lindy may have been satisfied with five sandwiches all the way to Paris, but darned if I couldn’t eat five right now.” He carried the hamper over to the knoll where the others were. They were all standing now, limbering up, stretching, sniffing the good air, and looking eagerly toward the food. “Here, lend a hand,” said Bob. He plumped down the basket so that they could hear the rattle of forks and tin cups within, and sat down beside it. “You’re the host,” said Hal, seating himself comfortably on the grass and looking on. “It’s your party. We have to listen to your story, so the least you can do is feed us.” Bob had opened the hamper, and was viewing its contents eagerly. He dived into the basket. “Say, anybody who doesn’t help himself, doesn’t eat. Fall to.” They fell to, doing much eating but little talking. Finally Bob sat back, a sandwich in one hand, a cup of steaming coffee out of the thermos bottle in the other. “I have a suspicion,” he said, “that you don’t like my story.” “Don’t get ideas like that, Bob, my lad,” said Pat. “We love your story. We just like sandwiches better.” “All right, then I won’t finish,” said Bob. “I’m going to be independent.” Hal looked up. “Not finish? You’ve got finish any story you start.” “One of the rules? There aren’t any rules. You just made that up.” Hal was cajoling now. “Aw, come on, Bob. We want to hear the end. Come on, tell us the rest.” Bob bit into a huge slice of cake. He shook his head. “Nope, no end.” “Well, at least about the Caterpillar Club. At least you’ll tell us how Lindy saved his life by bailing out. We’ve got to hear that.” But Bob was adamant. “I’ve been insulted. I’m not going on. Anyway, Lindy didn’t save his life once by bailing out of a plane.” “He didn’t? You said a little while ago that he did.” “I didn’t say once. He became eligible to the Caterpillar Club four times.” Hal looked at Bob with disgust. “I must say that you’re being very disagreeable.” Captain Bill, who had been looking on in amusement, suddenly laughed very loudly. “Don’t coax him, Hal. He doesn’t need coaxing. He’s going to tell the rest of the story, don’t you worry. Wild horses couldn’t keep him from finishing the tale. Could they, Bob, old man?” Bob looked over at his uncle and grinned. “Why, you old sinner. What a way to talk about your favorite nephew. But now that you mention it, maybe I did intend to finish the story, seeing that I’d started it. Now, where was I?” Pat was clearing up the debris made by four men eating a picnic lunch. “You’ve got Lindbergh at the Nebraska flying school for a long time.” “Oh, not very long,” said Bob. “You see, he stayed there really a short time. In fact, he never did any solo flying there.” “Well, why not?” asked Hal.