Part 20 (2/2)

”You are right, sir,” returned that instructor. ”We'll have to make a note of it.” And this was done; and anybody going to Brill can see the record in the ”history book” of that famous inst.i.tution.

”Look who's here!” suddenly cried a cheery voice, and Will Jackson, usually called ”Spud,” because of his liking for potatoes, pushed his way to the Rover boys' side. ”I was upstairs dressing when you arrived, but I saw it all from the window. Say, that flight couldn't be beaten.

You must have come about three miles a minute, eh? Puts me in mind of the time I was caught in a Kansas cyclone. The wind carried me off my feet, and landed me high up on the side of a big building, and there I had to stick until the wind went down! Fact, and if you don't believe it, some day I'll show you one of the bricks from that same building. I keep it to sharpen my penknife on.”

”The same old Spud!” cried d.i.c.k, while the others laughed outright.

”Telling a yarn before he even shakes hands. How are you?” And he gave Will's hand a squeeze that made the story-teller wince.

”We'll have to have some place in which to store the biplane,” said Sam to Dr. Wallington. ”Do you think we could put it in the boathouse for the present--or in the shed of the gymnasium?”

”You may use the gymnasium shed, if you can get the machine inside,”

replied the head of the college. ”I presume we'll have to build regular hangars here,--if the students are going to own flying machines,” he added, with a smile.

”Well, they are good advertis.e.m.e.nts, Doctor,” put in Tom. ”Nothing like being up-to-date, you know.”

”Perhaps, Rover, perhaps. And it will be instructive to all here, to watch you and your brothers manipulate the biplane. But do not let the use of the machine interfere with your studies.”

”Oh, we'll use it like we would our bicycles, or a motor boat, or an auto,” said Sam. ”We came back to make a record for ourselves.”

”I am glad to hear it, Samuel, very glad indeed.” And then the good doctor hurried away to attend to his official duties.

Some of the late arrivals wanted the Rover boys to give another exhibition flight, and for their benefit Tom took a little sail by himself, and then Sam went up for five minutes. Then the biplane was rolled over to the big shed attached to the gymnasium,--a place usually used for housing carriages and automobiles during athletic contests.

Here one end was cleaned out and the _Dartaway_ was rolled in, and the engine was covered with a tarpaulin brought from the boathouse.

During the time that all this was being done, one student of Brill had kept to himself, even though greatly interested in what was going on.

This was Dudd Flockley, the dudish youth who had once been the crony of Jerry Koswell and Bart Larkspur. There was a sneer on his handsome face.

”Great work, eh, Dudd?” said Bob Grimes, one of the students, in pa.s.sing.

”I don't know what you mean,” returned Flockley, coolly.

”Oh, yes you do, Dudd,” retorted the other. ”But I suppose it's sour grapes for you,” he added pointedly, for he was a friend to the Rovers and knew something about the troubles of the past.

”Bah!” came from Dudd Flockley, and he turned and hurried away. ”Now those Rover boys have come back I suppose they'll try to lord it over everybody, just as they did before. How I hate them! I wish I could do something to get them in a hole!” He had forgotten completely the kindness the Rover boys had shown him, and how they had gone to the head of the college and pleaded for him, so that he had been allowed to remain at Brill. Perhaps Flockley was not as wicked at heart as his former college cronies, Larkspur and Koswell, but he was equally ungrateful.

Soon the Rover boys and their chums were up in the dormitory where they had their rooms. As before, Tom and Sam were together, in Number 25, with d.i.c.k and Songbird in Number 26, and Stanley and the others not far off.

”Home again!” sang out Tom, as he dropped in an easy chair. ”My, but this looks natural!” he added, glancing around.

”I want to tell you something,” said Stanley, who had followed the three brothers and Songbird into one of the rooms. ”Maybe we'd better shut the door,” he added, significantly.

”Yes, he's got news,” added Songbird. ”Say, it beats the nation how some fellows hold a grudge,” he went on.

”What's the trouble now?” demanded d.i.c.k, quickly.

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