"It's a craft of the smaller English dirigible pattern," Fernald announced, still studying the distant speck in the sky, which, of course, looked much larger in the field of his glass. "Yes, it's an unmistakable 'blimp'."
This latter is the slang name given to the British dirigibles.
"Better have the air-craft gun men at their station," advised Dave, and this was done.
Ten minutes later, however, the "blimp" was so close at hand that there could be no mistaking its identity. It belonged, beyond a question, to one of the squadrons of the Royal Naval Air Service.
"Radio message from the 'blimp,' sir," called a messenger, darting from the doorway of the wireless room. "Do you wish a written copy, sir?"
Lieutenant Fernald glanced at Dave, who shook his head.
"Let's have the message orally," Fernald called down to the deck.
"'Blimp' wants to know, sir, if these two craft are the 'Grigsby' and 'Reed.'"
"Tell the operator to admit the fact," Fernald ordered.
"Officer in charge of the 'blimp,' sir, says that he was to report and help you yesterday, but that the weather was too foggy."