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Updated: June 7, 2025
Honeywell is blind," said Bertram, "how could he see to erase the cancellations?" "Ah! That's what I asked myself. Obviously, he couldn't. He'd have to get that done for him. Presumably he'd get some stranger to do it. That's why I advertised for a professional eraser who was experienced, judging that it would fetch the person who had done Honeywell's work."
Ned, still with hat in hand, felt more like a dead bug than a very live boy. Then the white-mustached man smiled, took off his heavy-lensed glasses, and stepped forward with his hand extended. "I am Major Honeywell," he began in a low voice, "formerly of the regular army and later detailed on ethnological work for the Government. You are " "Ned Napier," responded his youthful caller.
So, when the ex-lunatic returned from Europe a year ago, our friend Honeywell here, in some way located him at the Caronia. He matured his little scheme. Through a letter broker who deals with the rag and refuse collectors, he got all the second-hand mail from the Caronia.
"This sort of thing requires practice," he muttered. "Here, Bert, you're cleverer with your fingers than I. You take it, and I'll dictate." Between them, after several failures, they produced a fair copy of the following: "Mr. Alden Honeywell will choose between making explanation to the post-office authorities or calling at 3:30 P. m. to-morrow on A. Jones, Ad-Visor, Astor Court Temple."
One of these, the conductor of the train, consulted his watch, as he had done several times already, holding it close within the glow of his green-shaded lantern. "It's getting pretty close to time, Major Honeywell," he said with some concern. "You're sure he'll be here?"
That was how Ned Napier came to finish the air ship his father had planned, and how it happened all that summer that the papers printed news stories and Sunday specials with pictures of his daring flights, and how Major Baldwin Honeywell and other happened to speak of him as the Ned Napier. To return to the scene of Ned's meeting with the Major
What had taken place was related to Senor Oje, and he left no doubt that he was thoroughly in sympathy with the project. He soon put matters on a business basis. "We are to share alike in what is found, I understand," he said. "Major Honeywell will have a third interest because the secret is his. This young man is to have a third because the risk is his.
"That man was undoubtedly a soldier who marched out of Mexico in 1539 with Friar Marcos, the great explorer," went on Major Honeywell, ignoring the question, "and when others gave up the search for the famed seven cities of Cibola and the wealth of the Aztecs that every Spaniard believed rivaled the treasure of the Incas, this man kept on.
"Put that amount to my personal credit in the First National Bank if you care to trust me." "We are trusting you with more than that," replied Major Honeywell with earnestness. "It will take me six weeks to make my arrangements. In that time, as I need the money, I will draw on the account," said Ned. "Very good," said Senor Oje; "I will draw up the agreement."
"I have no card and I don't call myself 'Mr.," answered Ned, "but you can say that Ned Napier is here and will be glad to see Major Honeywell whenever it is convenient." At the mention of "Ned Napier" the clerk's airiness disappeared. A certain respect seemed to take its place. Then he leaned forward and said a good deal more politely: "You are not the Ned Napier?"
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