“Hello! what’s this?” asked Roy, holding up a dainty cardboard box, and giving vent to a mischievous smile.

“Chocolates!” cried Jimsy.

“It was chocolates,” corrected Peggy reproachfully.

“And yet shall be,” declared Jimsy, producing from some mysterious place in a long auto coat another box, beribboned and decorated like the first.

“Jimsy, you’re an angel!” cried both girls at once.

“So I’ve been told before,” responded the imperturbable Jimsy, “but I never really believed it till now.”

Peggy rewarded him for the compliment by popping a chocolate into his mouth.

Gravely munching it, Jimsy proceeded to interrogation.

“And how did you solve the problem of what to do with the rest of the summer?” he asked.

For answer Peggy pointed to the sky, a delicate blue dome flecked with tiny cloudlets like cherub’s wings.

“By circling way up yonder in the cloudfields,” she laughed.

“But that’s no novelty,” objected Roy, “we’ve been up 5,000 feet already, and——­” “But we’re talking about a tour through cloudland,” burst out Jess, unable to retain the secret any longer, “a sort of Cook’s tour above the earth.”

“Wow!” gasped both boys.  “There’s nothing slow,” added Roy, “in that or about you two.  And, incidentally, just read this letter I got this morning, or rather I’ll read it for you.”

So saying Roy produced from his coat a letter closely written in an old-fashioned handwriting.  It was as follows: 

“My Dear Niece and Nephew:  No doubt you will be surprised to hear from your Uncle Jack.  Possibly you will hardly recall him.  This has, in a great measure, been his own fault as, since your poor father’s death, I have not paid the attention I should to my correspondence.

“This letter, then, is to offer what compensation lies in my power for my neglect.  Having read in the papers of your wonderful flying feats in Nevada it struck me that you and your young friends might like to pay me a ‘flying trip,’ making the excursion via aeroplane.

“We are to have some flying contests in Marysville during the latter part of the month, and you might care to participate in them.  Of course I expect your Aunt Sallie to accompany you.  Hoping sincerely to see you, I am

“Your affectionate uncle,
“James Parker. 
“Marysville, North Carolina.”

As Roy concluded the reading the quartet of merry youngsters exchanged delighted glances.  As if by magic here was an objective point descried for their projected motor flight.

“Well, that’s what I call modern magic,” declared Jimsy glowingly; “consider me as having accepted the invitation.”

“Accepting likewise for me, of course,” said Jess, shaking her black locks and blinking round, expectant eyes.

“Of course,” struck in Peggy affectionately, “the Girl Aviators cannot be parted.”