He walked slowly along, murmuring to himself.
"Wa'al, I might better have taken one of them wagons at th' depot," he said, "than t' try t' walk. It's quite a stretch out t' Tom Swift's house. I hope I find him home."
He trudged on, and, a little later, his gaze was attracted by a large shed, in the rear of a white house the pretentious appearance of which indicated that persons of wealth owned it.
"I guess that must be th' place," he remarked. "That shed is big enough to hold the airship. Now to present myself."
As he walked up the front path ot the house, he was met by one of the gardeners, who was raking up the leaves.
"Is this the airship place?" asked the miner.
"Yes, that's where the young master is making his triplane," answered the man.
"Is he in?"
"Yes, I guess so. You can walk right back to the shed."
The miner did so. Through the open door of the building he had a glimpse of big stretches of wings, propellers, rudders, and some machinery.
"That's it," he murmured, "though it looks some different than I remembered it. How-
