“And you will go with me sure, young man?” he asked, after seating himself in his monoplane, looking wistfully down upon him.
“Just as sure as I secure my father’s consent,—you may depend on that.”
Seated at the front the Professor glanced sharply around. The package of supplies which he had gathered at the hotel in Dawson was secured on the seat behind him, and the controls which governed the uplifter, the searchlight, the rudders and motor were found in perfect trim. Nothing remained to be done except to call a cheery good-bye to the friend whom only a little while before he looked upon as his most execrated enemy. Harvey swung his cap and never were more hearty good wishes shouted to a voyager than he sent after the inventor, who turned his monoplane westward, as if the course was as familiar to him as that between Purvis and the points immediately surrounding it.
The young aviator stood watching the helicopter as it sped away, until it became only a flickering speck in the distance and then faded from sight.
“Poor man!” sighed Harvey, “I wonder if I shall ever see him again.”
He never did. Somewhere in those impressive solitudes, Professor Milo Morgan and his Dragon of the Skies met their fate. On that summer day in 1910, when he steered the astonishing product of his brain toward the setting sun, he passed into the great unknown, from which he will never return. He was only one of the martyrs whose numbers must be added to before the problem of successful aviation will be solved.
Now that he had taken himself out of the affairs of Harvey Hamilton the latter stood for a long time, wondering, speculating, hoping, and yet fearing what the end of it all was to be. The inventor in his haste had not even paused to close the door of his workshop. Harvey gently shut it, but observing no lock, he walked to his biplane and a few minutes later was at the home of Aunt Hep, where he had dinner with her and Ann. When he had told his story of the departure of Professor Morgan he made a proposal.
“I want to surprise your brother, of the Washington Hotel at Dawson, by taking both of you with me. This you know will be only a call, and I can bring Ann back to finish her visit.”
“I never can think of it,” protested the elder lady.