Since Wharton left it to his young friend to do the honors, Harvey, pausing a few paces away, exerted himself to play the host.
“I see that your machine is a monoplane; you seem to have it under good control.”
“Why shouldn’t I? I made every part of it.”
“Even to the searchlight?”
“Of course; is that biplane yours?”
“It is; we landed several hours ago, having been kindly furnished a meal and lodgings for the night. I presume you will keep us company; my friend here, I am sure, will be glad to do what he can for you.”
“Kerrect,” added Wharton; “you’re as welcome as the flowers in spring.”
“Don’t you travel by night?” asked the visitor, ignoring the invitation.
“Not when I can avoid it; it is too risky to land in the darkness.”
“Night is the favorite period with me.”