“Yes. Roses for the crew of the Flyer.”
“From the Herald?”
“Got Mary’s card in ’em.”
There was no response but a scrambling on the metal floor of the pilot room and a sight, through the open store room door, of a pair of legs on the ladder made all the boys smile.
“Don’t come down,” shouted Alan. “I’ll bring ’em up. We’ve got too much to do to be botherin’ with flowers.”
As Alan smiled, crowded the fragments of the blossoms back in the crushed box and hurried away, Buck looked inquiringly at Bob.
“Sure,” said the latter with a wink. “You bet your life. Bad too.”
In the pilot room there was not much time for admiring flowers. With a slight blush and a few words of appreciation both boys gave quick attention to the car, its course and the work before them. The Sound bridges and even the tallest of New York’s skyscrapers had long since disappeared. Quick glances at the land and water beneath and at the compass showed Ned and Alan that Roy knew his business: he was on his course to the fraction of a degree and he was keeping close to the two thousand foot level as directed.
Over the operator’s table hung Course Chart No. 1. On this the distance between the Battery in New York harbor and Ipswich, Massachusetts, was set down as 187 nautical or 215 land miles. And the first leg of this course ended at South Norwalk on the Sound. The true course by compass to Ipswich was N. 51° E. But, with a magnetic variation of 11 degrees W., this made the magnetic course N. 62° E., or, by compass points, N. E. by E. 1/2 E.
Roy repeated his direction, his estimated height and the time by chronometer.