“Yes, but I have a contract for a private exhibition. There’s good money in it, and I can’t disappoint my people.”
“How’s the next day?”
“I’ve got to go to the Dayton grounds to get ready for the opening day at that meet. Tell you, Mr. Dixon, bring your device up to Dayton, and I’ll see what I can do for you.”
“I am anxious to make a practical test right away.”
“There’s lots of the fellows here who will help you out.”
“Yes, and make a blunder, and queer my whole business. No, sir! The man who won the endurance prize is the man for me, and your recommendation would be worth more to me than that of any ten men in the aviation line.”
“Why don’t you make the trial yourself, Mr. Dixon?” inquired the airman.
“Oh, yes!” laughed the old inventor, “I’d be a fine performer with my clumsy bungling in an airship and my two hundred pounds, wouldn’t I!”
“That’s so. You had better pick out a lightweight for the first trial.”
“Where will I find one?” spoke Mr. Dixon in a musing tone. “You see, I don’t expect a long drop on the first test. You know Boisan never ran his biplane without wearing his padded helmet. All that can do, though, is to break the shock of a fall. My parachute isn’t on the pad order at all, nor to prevent a fall.”