The signal man in the control tower, watching the sky, sent them a triple flicker of the pilot’s spotlight, agreed on as a sign that the mail ’plane was in sight.
Then came the delay that was caused by Garry’s great excitement, so that he did not get the Dragonfly off the runway at the first attempt.
Instead, holding the elevators down too long, he got too near the end of the runway to risk trying to climb above some wires that ran in a diagonal line across the space ahead. Easily cleared in a correct take-off, they might have been the means of snagging the underbody with Garry’s slight experience in climbing angles and control manipulation.
The Dragonfly, just at the end of the runway, had to be turned, taxied back, and given a fresh start.
As he topped the wires on his second attempt, Mr. McLeod prodded Garry. The young, inexpert pilot, cutting the gun, and, fortunately retaining presence of mind enough to drop the nose to a glide as he cut power, looked around.
The man in the second seat pointed aloft.
In a quick look Garry took in the situation.
Fearing the worst, he seemed to sense its imminent arrival.
There, above the edge of the bay, a cloud was glowing. From his point of view he did not see the flickering picture, but he guessed it was either there or soon to appear.
He gave the nose a tilt upward, opening the throttle, as he saw the edge of the marsh seeming to rise up toward the Dragonfly.