The lieutenant wrote out a brief account of their trip, telling of the stop, and to this Larry added a request that, after it had been read, it might be telegraphed to his paper. Then information was asked for in regard to aerial matters.
"But how are we going to get information from them?" asked Paul. "We can't get our wireless to working, we can't hear them, even with megaphones, wig-wagging won't do, and we're not going to land."
"I've asked them to send up a bunch of toy balloons, carrying any message they can send us," the lieutenant said. "I think we can manipulate our craft so as to grab some of the balloons as they float upward. I've seen it done."
Little time was lost over this. The message was dropped down in one of Larry's leather cylinders. It was seen to be picked up and while Dick and his friends circled about above the aviation grounds their note was read. An answer was hastily prepared to be sent up as Lieutenant McBride had suggested.
Meanwhile a number of the other aeroplanes whizzed past, close to Dick's.
"I hope they don't come so close that they'll collide with us," murmured the young millionaire. But the pilots were skillful. They tried to shout what were probably congratulations, or questions, at the trans-continental party, but the motors of the small biplanes made such a racket it was impossible to hear.
"Here come the balloons!" cried Dick, as he saw a group tied together floating upward. "Now to get them! You'd better handle her, Mr. Vardon."
"No, you do it, Dick. I'll stand out on deck and try to grab them."
"We can all reach from windows," suggested Paul, for there were windows in the cabin.
Dick was so successful in maneuvering his craft that Mr. Vardon had no trouble at all in catching the message-carrying toy balloons. The note was brief. It conveyed the greeting of the aero-club, and stated that a number of competing craft were on their way west.