She went into her father’s cabin, and arranged several small bottles and boxes on a shelf. Her father came in.
“Wish I dared take you with me, honey,” he said wistfully. “But I can’t risk you, can I? If anything should happen—”
“It’s just as you say, daddy. I’ve teased all I have the face to. But please don’t wave at me when you start. I might bust right out and cry. So I’ll run right off and get lost in the crowd.”
“You behave yourself while I’m gone, Dulcie, and no running around with that young bounder of a Greene chap back home.”
“I won’t speak to him while you are away,” Dulcie promised. “And I will behave all the time exactly as though you had your eye on me.”
She kissed him lightly, and was gone, leaving him with a feeling of loneliness and loss that overshadowed the pleasure of the take-off.
The engines were adding a deep roar to the human sounds. People strained against those in front, and pushed them into the ropes. Small dogs dodged into the open space and barked. The crew swarmed up and took their places in the ship, with excitement written large all over them. Two of the reporters paused for last-minute shots. Movie cameramen, thanking their stars for the bright sun that had appeared, ground frantically. Automobiles began to toot their horns as at length, the last man on board, the ground crew of five hundred men walked toward the ship from the spread-fan positions they had been holding. The twenty thousand spectators let out a mighty roar; a sea of upturned faces watched as the Moonbeam rose slowly, her motors drowning the noise of the crowd.
From a window Mr. Hammond searched through his glasses for a familiar little figure. “I thought the kid would wave me off, after all,” he said to himself. “Wish now I had brought her along. At least I would know where she was.”
“Couldn’t have had a better take-off, commander,” said Captain Fraine, at his side. “Her engines simply sing.”
“Glad you are pleased, captain,” answered Mr. Hammond. “We’ll soon see how she performs. We are out to make a record, as you know, and that means a steady, day-after-day excellence. From Lakehurst to Friedrichshafen is approximately forty-two hundred miles. We have got to make up some of our time on that leg of the trip. I don’t know Russia at all; in fact, I am a little dubious about it, although Dr. Eckener experienced no trouble whatever.”