The friendship had weathered a summer, a school year, and was now entering the boys’ summer vacation again. It was at the beginning of this vacation that Bob whistled to Hal and called to him to come down to hear his wonderful news. “Well,” said Hal, “spill the news.” It must be said of Hal that he tried even to master the language of the real boy in his education as a good sport. “Bill’s coming,” said Bob, trying to hide his excitement, but not succeeding very well. “What?” shouted Hal. “Sure, Captain Bill’s coming to spend the summer with us. He’s flying here in his own plane.” “Oh, golly,” said Hal, and could say no more. Captain Bill was the boys’ patron saint. It had been through his uncle Bill that Bob Martin had developed his mania for flying. Captain Bill Hale was Bob’s mother’s youngest brother, the adventurous member of the family, who had enlisted in the Canadian army when he was eighteen, at the outbreak of the war. When the United States joined the big battle, he had gone into her air corps to become one of the army’s crack flyers, with plenty of enemy planes and blimps to his credit. A crash had put him out of commission at the end of the war, but had not dulled his ardor for flying. For years he had flown his own plane both for commercial and private reasons. As Bob’s hero, he had always written to the boy, telling him of his adventures, encouraging him in his desire to become an aviator. He had never found the time actually to visit for any length of time with his sister and her family, but had dropped down from the sky on them suddenly and unexpectedly every so often. But now, as Bob explained carefully to Hal, he was coming for the whole summer, and was going to teach him, Bob, to fly. “Oh, boy, oh, boy, oh, boy,” Bob chortled, “what a break! Captain Bill here for months, with nothing to do but fly us around.” Hal did not seem to share his friend’s enthusiasm. “Fly us around? Not us, Bob, old boy—you. My mother will never let me go up.” Hal’s face clouded. Bob slapped him on the back. “Oh, don’t you worry. Your mother will let you fly. She’s let you do a lot of things with me that she never let you do before. We’ll get her to come around.” But Hal looked dubious. “Not that, I’m afraid. She’s scared to death of planes, and gets pale if I even mention flying. But that’s all right. I’ll do my flying on the ground. You and Bill will have a great time.” “Buck up,” said Bob. “Don’t cross your bridges until you come to them. We’ll work on your mother until she thinks that flying is the safest thing in the world. And it is, too. We’ll let Captain Bill talk to her. He can make anybody believe anything. He’ll have her so thoroughly convinced that she’ll be begging him to take you up in the air to save your life. See if he doesn’t! Bill is great!” Hal was visibly improved in spirits. “When’s Bill coming in?” he asked.