"You, Mr. Harding!" Roy looked his astonishment. The last vehicle in the world one would have thought of in connection with "Old Money Grubber,"

as he was sometimes called, was an aeroplane. If he had been given to such things Roy would have concluded the old man was joking.

"Yes, sir," snapped Mr. Harding, "I am. But not directly. It's on Fanning's account. He tells me that he has a chance to organize a company to give aeroplane exhibitions and also to manufacture them. But he has not been able to find a suitable machine, or one that was not fully covered by patents till he saw yours in flight the other day."

Suddenly he raised his voice:

"Fanning! Come here a minute."

Almost immediately, through a door which Roy had not hitherto noticed, but which evidently led into an adjoining office, the figure of Simon Harding's son appeared. To his chagrin, Roy realized that almost every word he had said to the father must have been overheard by the son.

Young Harding, who was dressed in a flashy gray suit, with trousers rolled up very high to exhibit electric blue socks of the same hue as his necktie, greeted Roy, who felt suddenly very shabby and insignificant, with a patronizing nod.

"Sorry you're in difficulties, Roy," he said, "but you never were a business chap even at school."

The memory of certain monetary transactions in which young Harding had been concerned occurred to Roy. The other's patronizing air angered him.

He would have liked to make some sharp, meaning retort. But the thought of Peggy and his aunt restrained him. Roy was beginning to learn fast.

"You needn't bother to tell me anything about the case," went on the younger Harding. "I accidentally overheard all that you said. Now, Roy, my father has stated the case to you correctly. I've got a chance to make money with aeroplanes if I can only get hold of a new model. You've got just what I want."

"Come to the point, my boy, come to the point," urged his father.

"I'm getting there, ain't I?" snarled the dutiful son. "Well, Roy, you're in pretty tight straits. We can foreclose on that mortgage any day we want to. But we won't do it if you give us a square deal. Forget the government. Make a deal with us consigning to me the right to manufacture and exhibit those aeroplanes and I'll set aside that mortgage and give you a thousand dollars to boot."

"And suppose I won't accept that offer?" asked Roy, slowly.

"Then we shall have to go ahead and foreclose. We want that land anyhow, but I am even more anxious to set up my son in a paying business,"

exclaimed old Harding. "Our offer is a fair one. It amounts to giving you six thousand dollars for a thing of canvas, wire and clockwork."

"Rather more than that, sir," said Roy, in a steady voice, although he was inwardly blazing.

"Well, what do you say?" asked Fanning, eagerly. "We'll draw up the papers right now if you say so."

But Roy was learning fast. He knew that the offer just made him had been an inadequate one.

"I'd like to have time to think it over," he said, hesitatingly.

"Take all the time you want," said old Harding, with a wave of his shrivelled, claw-like hand.

But Fanning did not seem so pleased. It flashed across his mind that Roy wanted to consult with Peggy, and somehow Fanning felt that in that case his offer would meet with refusal. He therefore resolved to put in a heavy blow.

"But I want to start at once," he said. "I can't wait any length of time.

When you think that if you don't accept my offer you'll all be without a roof over your heads I should think that for the sake of your sister and your aunt you'd accept."

"They'll never be in that position while I can work," rejoined Roy, with a flushed face. He rose and picked up his hat. Somehow he felt that he could not stand Fanning very many minutes more.

"Yes, very fine talk, but what can you do?" snarled Simon Harding.

CHAPTER IV.

JESS AND ROY.

Roy flung back some sort of answer and hastened out of the office. As he made his way up the sunny street outside, however, he could not get out of his mind the words of Simon Harding. After all, they were true; "what could he do?" Mentally, as he walked along, Roy ran over the list of his accomplishments. He came to the conclusion that aeroplane building and flying was where his greatest strength lay. But how was he to proceed to make money with his knowledge?

At this point in his meditations, when, unnoticed, he had almost reached the end of the elm-shaded village street, a loud "Honk! Honk!" suddenly startled him.

He looked up, and his gloom vanished like a summer cloud as he saw smiling down on him from the driver's seat of the big auto which had just rolled up beside him, the sunny countenance of Jess Prescott. She was in automobile attire and looked unusually attractive.

"Oh, I am so glad I've run across you," she exclaimed.

"You almost did," laughed Roy.

"Did what?"

"Run across me, of course," was the response. "But what are you doing in town? And driving your own car, too. Where is Jimsy?"

"Oh, he had to do an errand for father."

"And so you are acting as chauffeur?"

"Yes, don't I make a nice one?"

"You certainly do," rejoined the lad with a great deal of emphasis.

"Well, that being the case, you are commanded to jump in by me at once.

I've got an errand or two to do and then I'm driving home. We'll go by your place and I can drop you there."

"That's very good of you----" began Roy, but Jess cut him short.

"It's really selfish," she exclaimed. "I was looking for an escort. I really need one. You haven't got a revolver with you, have you?"

"Good gracious," exclaimed the astonished boy as he climbed into the big car; "no, of course not. Whatever do you want one for?"

"Why," confided Jess, as they sped along, "I'm on my way to the bank.

Mother is going to a big dinner party to-night and I volunteered to fetch out her jewels for her from the safe deposit vault where she keeps them."

"And you were afraid of robbers holding you up?"

"Of course not," laughed the girl, skillfully dodging a vagrant dog that sped across the road in front of the big car; "but just the same, I'm glad to have a nice big boy like you with me. You see, some of the jewels are very valuable, and one never knows what might happen."

"No," agreed Roy; "but in broad daylight, on the road between Sandy Bay and your home, there could hardly be any risk. For instance, who would know that you had valuables in the car?"

"n.o.body, except some of the servants at home probably," responded Jess.

"But here's the bank."