“Ours is rather a romantic story,” said Alan. “Our mothers were twin sisters—they married on the same day and went to the same place for their honeymoon. A year later my mother died in giving me birth, and Desmond’s mother died when he was only a few months old, so we were both left babies to get on the best way we could without a woman’s care.” “Poor lads! Poor lads!” sighed the vicar. “When I was five my father died,” said Desmond, “and four years later Alan’s father was drowned. Uncle John then took us to live with him—but as he was a bachelor we were brought up in the care of nurses and tutors, and had no real home life.” “You are fond of your uncle?” queried the vicar. “Rather!” answered Alan. “Uncle John is the dearest old boy imaginable. He’s a bit of a crank though. He has been working for years on what he calls his ‘Petradtheolin’ airship.” “His what?” laughed Mr. Winthrop. “His ‘Petradtheolin’ airship. It’s his own invention, you know, but up to now he has been unsuccessful. He has built a wonderful aluminium airship—most beautifully fitted and upholstered—in fact it is absolutely ready to fly, but up to now it won’t budge an inch.” “What?” “He is under the impression,” went on Alan “that in the near future flying will be an every day occurrence, and it is his greatest ambition to own the most comfortable, most speedy, and lightest airship of the day.” Mr. Winthrop smiled. “There is a great deal of talk about flying now,” said he, “but do you honestly think it will ever come to anything?” “I don’t know,” said Alan thoughtfully, “we have conquered the sea—‘Iron on the water shall float, like any wooden boat’,” he quoted. “We have built ships that can submerge and remain under water and navigate for certain periods of time. I see no reason why the modern man should not also conquer the air.” Mr. Winthrop shook his head. “I may be old-fashioned, but it seems impossible to believe that navigable ships could be built for flying, that were _safe_. I don’t doubt that airships will be built that up to a certain point will be successful—say for a few hours’ flight, but it seems inconceivable to me that man could so conquer the air, that commerce and travel would benefit.” “Well, Uncle John thinks he will conquer it with his ‘Argenta’,” went on Alan. “Surely that was not what you called it just now?” asked the vicar. Alan laughed. “The ‘Argenta’ is the name of the ship itself, but ‘Petradtheolin’ is the name of the power he is experimenting on, that he is desirous of using to propel it.”