“What,” asked Tim, “would be the most thrilling flight to you?”
“A hop over the top of the world,” replied Winslow. “I’ve always wanted to make an Arctic flight and even though Wilkins and Eilson made the trip from Point Barrow to Spitzbergen, I’m not entirely convinced that there isn’t land somewhere up there. It would be worth a try, anyway,” and his dark eyes glowed with enthusiasm.
Tim felt a peculiar warmth and thrill of inspiration and Winslow’s words fell on far more fertile soil than he ever dreamed.
“There’s just one more question?” said Tim. “Didn’t you help train Lindbergh to fly?”
“Yes, some. We were on the same division of the air mail and saw quite a lot of each other before he flew to Paris.”
“What kind of a fellow was he then?”
“Not much more than a kid, quiet and serious minded. If he had any thought of flying to Paris when I knew him, he certainly kept it a secret. He’s a wonderful flyer; uses his head and knows every trick in the game.”
They had completed their dinner and Winslow, who was obviously tired from a long day in the air, asked Tim if he had all the material he needed for his first column.
“Reams of it, thanks to you,” said the flying reporter.
“I’m glad if I have been of any help,” replied the veteran of the air mail. “I think the column will be a fine thing. I hope you make a success of it, and I’m sure you will. I’m going to turn in now and get a few hours of sleep.”