Colonel Elwin went on without pause, as though he had heard no interruption.
“It is, of course, a disappointment to us to have this serious flaw in your flying ability revealed. Especially since one of you boys had been brought to our notice as having rather a genius for mechanics, a talent for engines and an outlook for the future of motors from an aerial viewpoint. That’s what makes it so heinous, so foolish for one who knows engines to be willing to tamper with them dangerously in mid-air, to risk valuable life and valuable machinery.
“What, may I ask, was your idea in generating peril for yourselves up in the air?”
“We—I mean—I was testing out a sort of aerial telegraphy,” Hal finally got the words out, “and—”
“Aerial telegraphy—what?” both Mr. Rand and Colonel Elwin seemed to ejaculate simultaneously.
“It was my fault, not McGinnis’s,” said Hal, stiffening his back a little, and trying to keep his voice firm. “I thought it up and got him to try it out with me—”
“I was in it as much as Hal Dane,” Fuz seemed to have found his voice. “I’m plumb due to get washed out if he is.”
“Aerial telegraphy—what was your idea—how were you managing it?” Mr. Rand leaned forward.
“You see Fuz McGinnis and I have known each other always. We used to have a secret dot-and-dash code when we lived back home, used to tap each other messages.” Hal seemed to forget for the moment that he was up before the “Benzine Board,” was being washed out of flying forever perhaps. He warmed to his subject. “It just occurred to me that while we were up in the air, it might come in pretty handy sometime to send the other fellow a message. You might need to tell him something, or ask for help quick! The motor running is about all you can hear in the airplane. So it just came to me to take a try at making the motor do the talking, to cut it and race it in a sort of code.”
“Did it work?” questioned Mr. Rand.