“As how?” questioned the curious Hiram.
“Well, they stole a photograph of the Albatross. I had the chance to draw a picture of the Dictator, and here it is.”
The young aviator produced a paper roll from his pocket. Dave was a natural draughtsman. As he spread out the paper a well-traced penciled outline was revealed.
“Let me see it,” spoke Leblance, eagerly. “Ah, you have done well.”
The keen eyes of the French inventor scanned the drawing intently. Then, suddenly and with great excitement of manner, he threw it upon the table.
“Preposterous!” he exclaimed. “Nonsense! Absurd! My friend King, we have nothing to fear. The Dictator is a botch, a farce. Whoever constructed it is a novice, a dabbler! That machine could not fly ten miles!”
CHAPTER IX
IN THE LEAD
“Someone here to see you, Dave.”
Hiram greeted the young aviator with this announcement one evening, two weeks after their arrival at Croydon.
“Is that so?” said Dave. “Who was it?”