"Yes. That you, Vibach?"
"I should think it is. Look here, what the dickens is this tale you've been telling about me?"
He repeated the pith of what he had first told Harden, explaining that he was quite as anxious for my safety as for that of the plane. Harden entered as he was speaking, told me the bus was nearly ready and that he wished to say a word to Schiller when I'd finished. I nodded; and as he could only hear my half of the conversation, of course, I dovetailed it in to fit the position. The result was good enough to incline me to put a saint's halo round the head of the man who invented the 'phone.
"Of course that puts a different look on it, but you really ought to be more careful, Schiller. I'm as sober as a judge, man; Harden's standing by me now and he'll tell you the same in a minute."
"He told me so; but I was bound to take notice of what I heard. We can't risk the life of one of our best airmen and the loss of our newest type of bus——"
"Don't talk rot, man. I was never fitter in my life than I am at this moment. I've just arranged with Harden to prove that by taking up one of the old ones here."
This woke him up. "Eh? What's that?"
"Don't fool like that. Of course I'm not. Just a little spin round to show him that I can take charge of No. 14 all right."
"You'd better not do that, Vibach."
"Of course he does, man. Do you think he doesn't know enough to tell whether a man's drunk or sober. I can't make you out."