“All right,” grinned Andy. “Cut him in and then listen to him explode.”
Bert made the necessary adjustments and Andy heard Harry’s familiar voice.
“Hello, hello, hello,” said Andy. “This is the dirigible Goliath, now over the city of Washington, in a special broadcast to the Arctic submarine Neptune, en route from Brooklyn, New York, to Plymouth, England, on the first leg of its trip to the North pole where it will be met this summer by the Goliath for an exchange of mail. This is a beautifully clear spring morning with a light west wind. We are paying a surprise visit to the capital after an unannounced departure this morning at three o’clock from the Goliath’s home field at Bellevue, Ky.”
Andy heard an excited exclamation and then Harry, now far out to sea in the Neptune, started plying him with questions.
“Are you really over Washington now? How is the Goliath behaving? Why didn’t you tell a fellow what you were going to do?”
One by one Andy answered them and before he signed off Harry gave three stirring cheers for the Goliath and the success of its first long flight.
“The weather is still bad,” he said as he signed off, “and if you don’t get me at eight tonight, don’t worry. I’m more than a little seasick and I may not feel up to talking with anyone but I’ll be on sure tomorrow morning at eight.”
Andy met his father on the way back to the control room and found him jubilant.
“The army board is more than enthusiastic about the performance,” he told Andy, “and there is no question but what we will get an immediate approval and payment of the balance of the government appropriation.”
“I’m mighty glad to know that, Dad,” replied Andy, “for I realize how much the success of the Goliath means to you. It will prove the practicability of these big ships for commercial service and mean we can build more of them for National Airways.”