“Well, how in the—how did you get in?” shouted Mr. Martin, pumping Bill’s hand. “We were waiting in the rain for you for hours.” “I know,” said Bill, contritely, “we tried to get in touch with you, but we couldn’t. You see, I came in by train.” “By train!” exclaimed Bob. “By train!” “Why, sure,” laughed the Captain, “Why, aren’t you glad to see me without my plane? That’s a fine nephewly greeting!” “Oh, gee, Bill, of course I’m glad to see you, but—well, I’ve sort of been counting on your bringing your plane.” Bill laughed. “The plane’s coming all right,” he said. “We had a little accident the other day, and the wing needed repairing. I decided not to wait for it, but to come in on the train to be with you. So Pat McDermott is bringing the plane in in a few days. Is that all right? May I stay?” “Yup, you can stay,” said Bob. “But I want something to eat!” “Everything’s ready,” said Mrs. Martin. “You change your clothes, and come right down to dinner.” “Sure thing,” said Bob. But he did not change immediately. He stopped first to put two crossed flags in the window, which meant to Hal, “Come right over.” CHAPTER II—Captain Bill Hal couldn’t come right over. He had to be fussed over, steamed, dosed, and put to bed so that he would suffer no ill effects from his soaking that evening. But he was over bright and early the next morning. It had rained all night, and was still raining in a quiet, steady downpour, when Hal appeared at the Martin home, dressed in rubbers, raincoat, muffler, and carrying an umbrella to protect him on his long trek from his own front door to his friend’s. Captain Bill would have been startled at the strangely bundled figure of Hal, but he had been warned, and greeted Hal without a blink of an eyelash. In fact, as soon as Hal had been unwrapped from his many coverings, and had spoken to them all, Captain Bill discovered that he was probably going to like this boy after all, and was pleased that his nephew had such good judgment in choosing a friend and companion. They talked that morning, of course, about airplanes, and the boys told how they had been reading about the famous flyers, and of their hopes to be flyers themselves some day. Bill had been a good listener, and had said very little, but after lunch Hal said what had been on his chest for a long time. “Captain Bill, we’ve been doing all the talking. Why don’t you tell us a story?” The Captain laughed. “I think that Bob’s heard all my stories. I’m afraid that they’re a little moth-eaten now. But how about the two of you telling me a story? Some of the things that you’ve been reading so carefully. How about it?” “We can’t tell a story the way you can, old scout,” said Bob. “Anyway, we asked you first.” “All right, I’m caught,” said the Captain. “But I’ll tell you a story only on one condition. Each of you has to tell one too. That’s only fair, isn’t it?”