The day of their departure dawned bright and clear. There was a high ceiling, the air was crisp and cool, with a fresh wind blowing. The boys could hardly control themselves in their impatience to be off. Bob’s parents and Mrs. Gregg drove down to the airport with them to see them off. In spite of the excitement of the boys, there was an undercurrent of restraint in the group. Nobody talked very much except Bob and Hal, who never stopped talking. The cabin plane had been taken out and warmed up by the mechanics of the port. It looked sleek and beautiful in the early morning light. Pat was going to fly her. He walked over to the Administration Building to make final arrangements with their friend Mr. Headlund. He took a short cut across the field. The port wasn’t very busy. But there was some activity—activity that Pat, intent upon his business, did not notice. A student pilot, taxiing his plane across the field for his first solo flight, was coming straight toward him. Pat did not notice the student, the student was too rattled to see him. Bob was the first to notice what was happening. “Look put!” he screamed. “Pat, look out!” The student pilot suddenly saw Pat. He veered his plane, but a corner of the wing just grazed Pat’s head, and knocked him flat. He was already getting to his feet when the others got to him. “Are you hurt, old fellow?” Pat was rubbing his head. “No, I don’t think so. That is, no, I’m not at all. Just nicked me. I’ll be all right in a second.” He shook his head to clear it. “Gave me a bit of a bump. I’ll be all right.” The student pilot, white and shaking, came over to them. “Hurt badly?” he asked anxiously. Pat laughed. “No such luck, lad. You missed me that time. Better luck next time. You might try picking on somebody who’s not so tough, next time.” Pat was himself again, and the others, thankful that he had not been seriously hurt, watched him go into the Administration Building. When he came out, Bill asked. “Do you want me to pilot?” Pat looked scornful. “Since when did a little bump on the head put me out of commission? I’m driving the bus.” All the baggage stowed away, the boys, the Captain and Pat got into the plane. They waved good bye to the others outside, the huge craft taxied over the field, turned into the wind and rose into the air. It was pleasant being off at last. There was the grand trip before them, and then the vacation itself, fishing, swimming, shooting. Hank had filled their heads full of the glories of his private mountain, as he called it. The cabin with its huge open fireplace built of stones, the bunks in two tiers like the berths on a pullman. Bob and Hal had already decided that they would have to take turns sleeping in the upper one, because surely the upper one would be the most fun.