“What airship is it?” persisted Morey, leaning half out of the vehicle.
“They ain’t but one fur’s the army is concerned,” laughed the soldier, shouldering his gun again—“Wright Brothers. Hustle along and make a bluff. Maybe they’ll let old Dobbin in.”
“Is Lieutenant Purcell here?” continued Morey, much excited.
“If he ain’t gone to town, he is,” was the answer. “He ought to be here. That’s his business. He’s the boss of the job.”
A few minutes later Morey and Amos were in the line of spectators making their way toward the reservation parade grounds. But Betty could go only within the limits of the fort, where Morey turned her over to Amos with orders to await his return. Then he hurried after the crowd. Undoubtedly it was a gala day. Hundreds of fashionably dressed women and smartly costumed men were defying the dust of the paths leading to the wide parade grounds and officers with gold, red and yellow facings on their uniforms were hurrying by in mule-drawn military busses.
Near what seemed to be a sort of club-house a group of soldiers stood idly. On the gallery, a number of guests were collected in animated groups. While Morey was debating whether to make his way thither before seeking the parade ground where, he had already learned, Orville Wright was to give an exhibition test of his wonderful aeroplane, there was the sharp blast of a bugle and the clatter of horses’ feet. An open carriage dashed by with three men in it, preceded by a bunch of galloping cavalrymen. Hats flew off in all directions and a few of the spectators cheered.
It was Morey’s first view of a President of the United States. Throwing his own hat into the air he lit out on a run after the swiftly moving carriage, and then, suddenly noticing that there were no other boys present and that no one else was excited in just the same manner, he calmed down and smiled.
“Where’s the airship?” asked the boy, seeing that the President was bound first for the club-house, but figuring that he would proceed to the testing grounds.
The smart young soldier to whom Morey had addressed his remark said:
“The high white tent is where the big bugs’ll be. You keep away from that or they’ll hustle you. Them secret service ducks got to make a flash. They won’t let you in a mile o’ the President. The airship stable is the wooden house between the tent and them barracks. An’ you keep your eye peeled. They ain’t anxious to have kids around.”