Garry shook his head. "Too late. We'd never make it to Washington by six." The flyer was gaining speed and altitude.
"What's all this about Washington? What happens there?"
Garry hesitated. "You have to take a trip, Mr. Haworth."
H.D. leaned forward, unable to hear the last words. With their mounting speed the whine of violated air was becoming a scream. Garry reached back over Junior's shoulder and hit a toggle at the right end of the instrument board. It was like shutting off a radio.
He repeated, "You have to take a trip, Mr. Haworth."
"Trip. By heaven, you're as mysterious as that woman. Why don't you speak up? Well, never mind that." His eyes narrowed. "To whom does this airship belong?"
Garry sighed. "To you, Mr. Haworth."
"Tell that oaf to turn around and go back."
Garry sighed again and shook his head. "He won't, Mr. Haworth." The flyer was arching through a dark swirling cumulus layer, still gaining speed.
H.D.'s jaw set hard. He gritted his words.