"It will be another 'sky cruise,' longer and daintier and lovelier!" exclaimed Jess Bancroft, clapping her hands. "Peggy, you're nothing if not original."
"Well, there are automobile tours and sailing trips, and driving parties-" "And railroad journeys and mountain tramps-" interrupted Jess, laughing.
"Yes, and there are wonderful, long-distance migrations of birds, so why not a cross-country flight of motor butterflies?"
"It would be splendid fun," agreed Jess eagerly; "we could take the Golden Butterfly and the Red Dragon and--" "Don't forget that Bess Marshall has a small monoplane, too, now. I guess she would go in with us."
"Not a doubt of it. Let's go and find the boys and see what they say to it."
"No need to go after them, here they come now."
As the golden-haired Peggy spoke, two good-looking youths came round the corner of the old-fashioned house at Sandy Bay, Long Island, where the two young Prescotts made their home with their maiden aunt, Miss Sally Prescott. One of the lads was Roy Prescott, Peggy's brother, and the other was Jimsy Bancroft.