The old ruin was more picturesque than, ever in its cloak of five-leafed ivy which the autumn had touched with red and gold.

A lean-to had been built against the back wall of the building, fitted with a stout door on the inside and a pair of doors on the outside.
"I rented this plot of land from the farmer who owns the orchard," explained David, taking a key from his pocket and opening the door in the stone wall.

"This was about the best place I could think of for experiments, partly because it's such a lonesome place, and partly because there is a clear open space of several hundred yards back here without a tree or bush on it." It was dark inside until he had opened the double doors in the opposite wall, when the slanting light showed them an aeroplane; not a little gymnasium model this time, but a full-fledged flying machine, a trim and graceful object, even at close view.
"David," cried Anne joyously, "you don't mean to say you've gone and done it at last ?" "I have," answered David gravely; "and I've made two trips with pretty good success each time." Then everyone talked at once.

David was the hero of the hour.
"David, my dear boy," cried Mrs.Gray.

"To think that I should live to see you an aviator!" "I'm a long way from being one, yet, Mrs.Gray," answered David.