Ned neither showed the letter to Alan nor referred to it. In fact, he had recently reached a point in his acquaintance with Mary Hope that did not inspire conversation in relation to her—least of all with his chum, her brother. When the three boys met in Major Honeywell’s office a busy hour followed. There was not only much talk concerning the new airship but the temporarily postponed business of the Universal Transportation Company demanded consideration. When the matter of the Herald project came up for analysis Major Honeywell and the boys discussed it in all its phases.
When the Herald manager arrived, a little after noon, the visitor was first escorted through the various offices. Although he was acquainted in general with the importance and magnitude of this newly organized company, the details of its operating machinery astounded the journalist. For some time after the Herald manager reached Major Honeywell’s office, he insisted on additional information on this astounding aeroplane transportation service. The route maps, latitude and longitude tables for all cities, magnetic variation and compass deviation tables for aviators, photographs of the newly completed metal monoplanes and the air-line hangars on the 750 mile route to Chicago almost drove the proposed ocean flight out of the newspaper man’s mind.
“At least,” he said, “what you’ve shown, proves to me that we can’t fail in what we’re about to attempt. I’m mighty glad I missed my luncheon. I’ll not be satisfied now till I’ve seen your latest aeroplane.”
“This afternoon!” responded Ned with enthusiasm. “Mr. Russell has just been in wireless communication with the factory. Daylight didn’t show a scratch on the Ocean Flyer. We’d like to have you and Major Honeywell go out with us this afternoon.”
“Delighted,” responded the managing editor. “We’ll pick up a bite on the way. And as that is to be pleasure, let’s get down to business. Of course you’ll want a contract.”
“Only a memorandum,” answered Ned. “Not so much a contract as a record of what we are to undertake.”
Thereupon Ned reviewed the talk he and his friends had had at breakfast, the journalist making brief notes. The plan for picking up the matrices at the start was received with enthusiastic approval. The boys were to deliver the Osborne postal crane to a sea tug to be furnished by the Herald, which was to install the device under young Osborne’s supervision. The question of a landing in London was a harder nut to crack. On this there was prolonged debate. The boys felt forced to put the arrangement of this up to the newspaper.
“I have had but one idea on that,” explained the manager. “It may not be wholly feasible but it is all I have in mind. Hyde Park is the biggest open place near the ‘city.’ It is only about two miles from Fleet Street or ‘newspaper row.’ There is plenty of room in this park to make a landing and a new start just north of the Serpentine—that’s a long, irregular bit of water you know.”
“Will the police permit it?” asked Alan.
“They can’t prevent the landing,” laughed Bob, “but we may all be in the police station when it’s time to start back.”