“The Neptune is a great submarine,” said Bert, “as far as subs go but I’ll take an airplane or dirigible any day. Being shut up in one of those things is like sailing around in a tub. I wouldn’t trade my radio cubby on the Goliath for a dozen jobs on the Neptune.”

“Someone had to go on the Neptune and we’ll give Harry plenty of credit for his nerve,” said Andy. “Will you be able to pick up his message tonight?”

“I promised him I’d tune in every night at eight,” replied Bert. “We ought to hear him plainly.”

Captain Harkins asked Andy to accompany him to the main office to check over the final construction reports on the Goliath while Andy’s father took Blatz on an inspection trip over the big bag. They entered the luxuriously furnished gondola with its lounge and radio room, the dining salon and the glass enclosed promenade. Then to the upper deck of the gondola where the passenger cabins were located. The interior finish was in a cool, pleasing gray, a favorable contrast to the silver of the metalized hull.

After leaving the gondola, they walked down the main runway which was built lengthwise down the middle of the Goliath. In the earlier dirigibles this had been little more than a catwalk and none too safe. A plunge off would have meant crashing through the outer fabric and a fall to earth. In the Goliath the main runway was a substantial affair six feet wide. Made of duralumin, it was strong but light and guard rails proved ample protection for members of the crew or passengers who might be permitted to view the interior of the big airship.

The gas bags were inflated with, helium and held rigidly in place, six of them in the forward part of the ship and six of them in the after section. The transverse rings built of girders of duralumin separated each bag and there was a narrow catwalk between each large gas cell to facilitate the stopping of any possible leaks.

The motor gondolas were built inside the hull with the flexible propeller shafts sticking through the side. There were six of the motor gondolas on each side and each car was carefully insulated so that fire could be confined to one section of the dirigible.

The mid-section of the Goliath was forbidden ground to Blatz for it was here that space had been provided for the storing of airplanes in time of war. A special device which hooked onto the planes while they were in flight and lifted them into the hold in the center of the airship had been perfected by Captain Harkins and Blatz was anxious to see this. He was in for a disappointment that afternoon for Charles High did not take him back that far. Instead, they stopped at the fourth transverse girder where a stairway led to the top of the dirigible. There were six of these stairs all told, each running to the top and giving access to the observation cockpits. There was a runway on top of the Goliath with strong cables stretched along the side but it would be almost worth a man’s life to attempt to walk on it while the dirigible was in motion and especially if the air happened to be the least bit rough. A fine place, thought Blatz, for anyone who was inclined to be seasick.

They walked along the outer runway toward the rear of the Goliath and from this elevation Blatz had a real opportunity to realize the size of the new king of the air—the craft which Reikoff had termed an “air monster.” When they reached the after part of the dirigible with its great fin and elevators, they descended into the interior. Motor crews were busy tuning up the engines and the air was filled with the tenseness of preparation.

At dinner that night Captain Harkins announced that he had received word from the army air corps that the officers who would report on the trial flights of the Goliath would be at Bellevue before noon the next day.