“He’s in the salon,” said Red. “I’ll get him.”
As Mr. Hammond came into the control room, he stopped to look at the indicator.
“At this rate,” he said hopefully, “we will make our record after all. Did you want to see me, David?”
“If Van Arden will take the wheel, I’d like to ask you to come to my room; or perhaps you want to turn in now, sir?”
“Turn in!” exclaimed the chief. “With those engines picking up like this, and cities to greet every little while—our last night, and all? Good Lord, no! Never was so wide-awake in my life.”
“We feel like that too,” said David.
Calling Van Arden, the three went to David’s stateroom.
“All right, David,” said Mr. Hammond, lighting a cigar.
“Shoot!” said Red firmly.
“Well, commander, when we recovered the plans, Red and I decided to have a set of the accelerators constructed in Los Angeles, and try them out as we crossed the States. They couldn’t do any harm, and—”