“Walters told me a short time ago that a boy had telephoned from Circle T Ranch—wanted to see our air-ship, I believe. Walters is one of my mechanics. Were you the one? No; but belong to a crowd that is over at the ranch, eh? Everything working all right with your new plane, Ogden?”
“Never better, Major Carroll. I think we shall be able to capture several prizes.”
“Undoubtedly. Now, Bob, if you would like to examine the dirigible, come along. Walters!” His voice rose in a loud call. Then he added, quietly, “Ogden, I want to consult with you on several matters, and the aeroplane, or, rather, this crowd of inquisitive visitors, may need a bit of watching.”
A man in blue overalls hove into view.
Leaving the mechanician in charge, the three walked briskly toward the curious-looking hangar. It was a wooden structure completely covering the dirigible and closed at the ends by canvas coverings. These, however, were now drawn aside.
Two mechanicians were hard at work, as the party entered.
“Great Scott; isn’t it a whopper!” cried Bob, surveying the huge cigar-shaped hull which loomed high above them.
“Air-ships very much larger have been built,” said Major Carroll, “but this—the ‘Border City’ it is called—answers my purpose sufficiently well.”
“Have you made any flights yet?” asked Bob.
“A dozen, at least; and most of them satisfactory.”