“I’m anxious to enlist,” Morey exclaimed at once.
This was Lieutenant Purcell’s chance. He was not slow to express his own views in opposition to Morey’s desires. But, perhaps to his surprise, Major Squiers did not agree with him.
“The science of air navigation,” the elder officer insisted, “is yet in its infancy. In the nature of things the army is intensely interested in the development of both dirigible balloons and aeroplanes. In some respects I think the study of this problem is as important as the solution of new naval problems. As a means of offense and defense the army is compelled to keep abreast if it does not lead in these experiments. And we mean to do it. But, for the greatest success, we must have brains. We must have just the intelligence that this young man possesses. Naturally, those who are to assist us, should be under military direction and control; they should be soldiers. And they must begin in the ranks. But I know of no department in the service where promotion is so sure and certain. Nor do I know of any other opportunity for a young man to get a technical education at so little cost to himself. Instead of dissuading the boy, I think he should be encouraged.”
“There, you see,” exclaimed Morey turning jubilantly to Lieutenant Purcell, “isn’t that what I said? Will you enlist me?” he asked eagerly facing Major Squiers again.
“You’ll have to obtain your parent’s consent. If you can, I’ll be glad to do so. And I’ll guarantee to make an aviator out of you in a mighty short time.”
Until dinner was over nothing was said about Colonel Marshall’s secret. Lieutenant Purcell had not yet seen the packet. But, with a few words of explanation from the younger officer, Morey produced the precious package from his inside coat pocket. The two military experts immediately adjourned to the library and began an investigation. Morey was a little surprised and disappointed that there was no outburst of astonishment. As they proceeded slowly through the faded pages, talking to each other in low tones from time to time, he became nervous. After all, what if his father’s idea meant nothing at all? What if their land was worth no more than Judge Lomax said? Enlisting in the Signal Corps would not help him out of his predicament. In fact, it would be a selfish abandonment of his mother.
When Major Squiers had at last finished the long manuscript, which Morey himself had not attempted to read or understand, he lit a cigar and waited for the younger officer to finish his examination. Again they spoke together. It was in a low tone and Morey refrained from listening. Lieutenant Purcell made a calculation and shook his head. Morey’s heart sank.
At that, the elder officer motioned to the boy to approach.
“My son,” he began, “I assume that you are willing to let me take this matter—I mean these papers.”
“Certainly,” answered Morey. “I have no idea whether they are of value, but if you will be good enough to look into them, I shall be very grateful.”