“Why, nothing more nor less than one of those new fashioned biplanes. I bought one of the latest improved _Antoinettes_ when I went over to Paris, during the time father was purchasing the arms in Australia. He sent me there on some banking business, you know, and I naturally took in the aviation exhibition. It did not take me long to decide that a biplane would be of great assistance to the revolution and I induced the great Bleriot himself to teach me how to work it. Before I left Paris I could manage the thing beautifully, and I’ve made a good many successful flights. It is all packed in three cases, with bands of red paint around them so they can be identified from the arms, and I have many extra parts in separate cases. It must seem queer to you to realize I have a flying machine in this out-of-the-way place—where we’re shipwrecked on a savage island.” “It is strange,” I admitted. “The _Antoinette_ would make even you fellows stare, I guess,” continued Alfonso. “Oh, as for that,” said Joe, “both Sam and I have done some aërial stunts in our time, and made some pretty long flights. But a biplane’s a new invention to us.” “It occurred to me that I could put the machine together here on deck,” announced Alfonso, “and make a trip over the forest to the Pearl City. I won’t land there, of course, but I’ll circle around and find out what we want to know, and then come back again. What do you think?” he asked a little anxiously. “Seems like a brilliant idea,” I said approvingly. “Will you fellows help me to get it together?” “Of course,” said Joe. “And the sooner the better.” “Then order your men to fetch up the boxes with the red bands. There are three of them.” I went to Uncle Naboth and my father and explained what Little Jim wanted to do. They both considered the thing impracticable and foolhardy, but said we could give the young Colombian whatever assistance he needed. So the boxes were sent for and presently hoisted from the hold by means of the cranes provided for such purposes. Only one was at all heavy, and that contained the motor and tools. The carpenter unscrewed the covers and soon a confused mass of canvas planes, braces, platforms and other odds and ends lay upon the deck. Alfonso, with his coat off and sleeves rolled up, began to select the pieces and connect them. He had written instructions for setting up the machine, but did not need to refer to them often, being evidently quite familiar with the details of its mechanism. It did not seem to me that the thing was at all serviceable; it was very frail and more like a toy than a flying machine; but the boy assured me it was an exact duplicate of the one that held the world’s record for altitude and speed. “Aren’t you afraid to trust yourself to it?” asked Joe. “Afraid! Of course not,” was the reply. “It is perfectly safe if operated intelligently—barring unavoidable accidents.”