It was his only farewell.
As soon as official greetings had been extended to Commander Hammond and the officers, David and Red taxied into the city, the precious plans in David’s pocket.
Red unfolded a telegraph blank.
“See what they handed me back there. It’s a night letter from the Padre. Whatever do you suppose he is up to? He says, ‘Am meeting you at landing field Lakehurst stop most important business stop arrange to spend a day with me stop mother is fine.’ Thank God he added that! I’d have thought he had bad news. Here’s what I’ll answer. ‘Can’t promise as present plan is to take ship back to Ayre immediately. Radio nature of important business.’ That ought to get something out of him.”
Red sent his message from the first Western Union office they passed. Then in the delightful excitement of machine shops that smelled of oil and steel he forgot all about it.
At one-thirty the officers and passengers were hurried off to a civic luncheon, and thence to a meeting of the Pioneer Daughters of California. But David side-stepped the Daughters, and dashed off to see how the accelerators were coming along under the eagle eye of Red Ryan.
He had only time to give a few words of advice, then rushed away to a reception at the Aviation Club. He begged off from the Board of Commerce meeting which came next, and went to the machine shop again. Red had not left since the work started, and David made him go out for a sandwich. At five the shop closed, and David and Red drove back to their hotel, where they put the envelope in the safe.
David dressed for the dinner given by the mayor and council. Four hundred sat down; and for the honor guests, the favors were fountain pens, with cases of California gold. Later they had boxes at a popular show. Still later, when David finally reached his room, he found Red sprawled out in a big chair.
“My dog, boy, do you know what time it is?” demanded David.
“That and more,” said Red, yawning. “I just got in. What’s on for tomorrow?”