Buck was listening with both ears. At these words he knit his brows as he checked off figures on his fingers and then, with a pencil, did a problem on an envelope.
The party had just made a close examination of the funnel compressor and the two double acting acetylene and electric search lights. As its members turned, Ned came up with Buck.
“Can I help you?” he asked mischievously, noting Buck’s calculation.
“Yes,” answered young Stewart. “Let me go with you.”
“Where?” asked Ned looking directly at Buck.
“Wherever you carry the Herald flag and wherever one hundred and eighty miles an hour takes you in seventeen hours which is 3060 miles from here—London it might be.”
The major, the editor and Alan were advancing out on the tail runway to examine the big equilibrium plane and the gigantic rudders. Instead of answering Buck, Ned said:
“Do you usually use a pencil to find how much seventeen times one hundred and eighty is?”
“You don’t reckon I’m a lightning calculator do you?” answered Buck. “I use a pencil for anything above the ‘nines’ when I want to be sure.”
“Can you subtract sixty-eight degrees and forty-five minutes from seventy degrees and fifteen minutes?” asked Ned without a smile.