The chief engineer was alone in the hangar office when Montgomery came down from the plane. He waved a hand through the glass partition and walked into the room without knocking.
“The Ninety-one doesn’t look as if the speed runs shook her to pieces,” he said.
Gunderson was looking half-pleased with the sheaf of papers under his hands. “No, we discovered one small area of vibration near the tail that’s not good. But I think we can clear it up with just a little modification of the frame at that point.”
Montgomery sat down. “Something’s been bothering me. I can’t get out of my head the business you were talking about this morning. This school thing —”
Gunderson nodded. “I’ve found it pretty hard to keep off my mind, too.”
“I’ve been wondering — just suppose the thing does turn out to be on the level, that they’ve really got something there — do you think there’s any chance you might be able to get me in?”
Gunderson looked at the major in surprise. “I didn’t think you would be interested in anything like that.”
Montgomery smiled easily. “I suppose I’ve been a soldier long enough to acquire something of that Army Look, but actually I’m perfectly aware of the truth of the things you said this morning about the unmanageable complexity of the Ninety-one. If this school has got something that will draw men like Norcross and you, I think I’d like to get a piece of it for myself.”
“I don’t know. I haven’t made application yet. Could you get away?”