"Anywhere. I don't care. There'll be the air-ride there an' the
air-ride back, an' that's the main thing with ME. If you say we'll
go, Cap'n, I'll run in an' pack a basket of lunch."
"How'll we carry it?"
"Swing it to the bottom of your seat."
The old sailor stood silent a moment. He really longed to take the
air-ride but was fearful of danger. However, Trot had gone safely to
town and back and had greatly enjoyed the experience. "All right,"
he said. "I'll risk it, mate, although I guess I'm an old fool for
temptin' fate by tryin' to make a bird o' myself. Get the lunch,
Trot, if your mother'll let you have it, and I'll rig up the seat."
He went into the shed and Trot went to her mother. Mrs. Griffith,
busy with her work, knew nothing of what was going on in regard to
the flight of the Magic Umbrella. She never objected when Trot
wanted to go away with Cap'n Bill for a day's picnicking. She knew
the child was perfectly safe with the old sailor, who cared for Trot
even better than her mother would have done. If she had asked any
questions today and had found out they intended to fly in the air,
she might have seriously objected, but Mrs. Griffith had her mind on
other things and merely told the girl to take what she wanted from
the cupboard and not bother her. So Trot, remembering that
Button-Bright would be with them and had proved himself to be a
hearty eater, loaded the basket with all the good things she could
find.
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