are at when the engine stalls. Come down in a series of dips from the upper currents. Vol-planing, the French call it, and I guess it's as good a word as any."
"Have you ever done it?" asked the odd character.
"Oh, yes, several times."
"Then, bless my fur overcoat! I can do it, too, Tom. When will you be ready to start?"
"To-morrow morning. Now you are sure you won't get nervous and want to jump, if the engine happens to break down?"
"Not a bit of it. I'll vol-plane whenever you are ready," and Mr. Damon laughed.
"Well, we'll hope we won't have to," went on Tom. "And I'll be very glad of your company. Mr. Fenwick will, no doubt, be pleased to see you. I've never met him, and it will be nice to have some one to introduce me. Suppose you come out and see what sort of a craft you are doomed to travel in to-morrow, Mr. Damon. I believe you never saw my new monoplane."
"That's right, I haven't, but I'd be glad to. I declare, I'm getting to be quite an aviator," and Mr. Damon chuckled. A little later, Tom, having informed his father of the sending of the message, took his eccentric friend out to the shop, and exhibited the Butterfly.
