"But I take it that the fuel in the 'bus is under pressure," remarked Peter, who was beginning to take a lively interest. "It must be, in order to maintain an even feed to the motor."
"You're wrong there," replied his relative. "I'll explain that when I show you a flying-boat ready for service."
An inspection of the assembling sheds where aircraft were in various states of completion followed, Uncle Brian pointing out various "gadgets" embodied in the design to render the machine practically "fool-proof".
"Now, here's a flying-boat in an advanced stage," he said. "All that is required to complete her is painting and varnishing. That's done in another building. What do you think of this little fellow?"
The "little fellow" was actually one hundred and twenty feet in length, with a wing-span of a little over sixty feet. With the exception of the patent glass scuttles and screens it was constructed entirely of metal.
"There you are," continued the inventor. "A child could fly it once it has 'taken off'. The planes, you see, are on a horizontal axis, and automatically arranged so that should the diving angle become too acute they will adjust themselves and bring the 'bus into a position of safety. The horizontal rudders, too, can either be controlled by hand or set to act automatically. Thus a pilot can set a course and the machine will just carry on, even to the extent of allowing for 'drift' and unequal wind pressure. Get aboard, Peter; I want to show you the motors."
His nephew swung himself up by the open entry-port and found himself in the "cargo hold", or what would be in war-time the bombing compartment. From here a door through an armoured bulkhead led to the pilot's "office" immediately above the for'ard pair of engines.
"Now, Peter, here they are," announced Brian Strong. "See anything remarkable about these contraptions?"
"Sleeveless valves," replied Peter.
"Good. Anything else?"