“I would rather have a plane to-day,” said Lawrence. “I want to get used to the country around here. I shall drive the dirigible when it is in order, but I like to take my bearings first. It is funny, I have flown all over the United States and Europe, but this is the first time I was ever in Washington.”
“Well, take one of the little sky-flivvers and have a good time, but be careful about landin’. A nose-dive or a tail-spin makes good readin’ in the Sunday papers, and you get a grand write-up all about the darin’ young aviator So-and-So, but it’s little interest you feel in the article yourself.”
Lawrence took a street car out as far as he could, and after a brisk walk reached the field. Everything was going smoothly. He offered his paper to the man in charge, and that individual, after grumbling a little at letting a kid go up with a perfectly good machine, let Lawrence look the twenty planes over and choose the one he fancied.
Lawrence refused a passenger, and with a good start soared off the field and rose until the city of Washington lay far below him. He had not made a flight for a couple of weeks, and his heart thrilled. After a few wide circles that took in the shipping at the Navy Yard and all the outlying parts of the city, he flew over Baltimore. The return he made low, and studied the woods and landing places, to make himself sure of his ground.
As he neared Washington again, he saw a plane approaching from the south. It came straight for him, and he had an idea that it was trying to communicate with him by means of the wireless. He glanced down and found that, contrary to usage, his own machine was not equipped. So he paid no attention to the stranger other than to swerve out of the way. But the plane turned and followed. Lawrence, curious to know what it was up to, slowed down and allowed it to overtake him. His trained ear told him by the sound of the engine that his own plane was the faster and more powerful but he had no intention of racing as he thought the other pilot wanted to do.
So he slowed down, and as the other machine came alongside he saw that they were flashing messages with a mirror, using the Morse code, which had become one of the requirements in the public schools.
“Who are you?” demanded the stranger. “Who are you?” over and over. Lawrence had no mirror and for a moment was at a loss how to reply. There was something threatening about the manner of the other plane, and Lawrence had no desire to get into a combat in the clouds over nothing. He had an idea, and as the other plane imperiously repeated the words he managed to take off the muffler, and in the roar of the engine he spelled out:
“A tourist seeing the sights. Who are you?”
“Where from?” demanded the mirror.
“Louisville. Who are you?” repeated Lawrence.