plane, or any kind of an aeroplane, isn't an auto or a motor-boat."
"Are you afraid?" demanded Tom.
"Oh, no! Only if we got a flying machine we'd have to be careful about what we tried to do."
"Hurrah! It's settled!" cried Tom, who went headlong into everything. "We'll get a machine to-morrow! How much do they cost?"
"I don't know—several thousand dollars, I fancy," answered his elder brother.
"Boiled umbrellas, Dick! As much as that?"
"I think so."
"Why look at some of 'em," declared Sam. "Nothing but bamboo poles and a few wires, and canvas,—and the engine!"
"Yes, but the poles, wires and canvas have to be put together just right, Sam, and those engines are as powerful as they are light. And then don't forget the propellers, and the steering outfit, and the other things."
"Come on and ask one of the men about them," came from Tom; and a little later they had a long talk with an aviator named Captain Colby, who proved to be a relative to Larry Colby, one of their former chums at Putnam Hall. He had heard about the Rover boys and some of their doings, and willingly told them all they wanted to know.
