“Is that your airship?”
“Not exactly, but I am in charge of it.”
“The Gossamer, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Belongs to the Interstate Aero Company?”
“You’re pretty well posted, I see.”
“Ought to be. I’m close to the Interstate people, so I’d like to look the machine over. In fact, if you’ve got an expert aviator on hand, I think I’ll take a little flight.”
John Grimshaw, ex-balloonist and battered-up aeronaut, regarded the foppishly dressed young man before him quizzically.
“Oh, you do, eh?” he observed, very dryly. “Well, it won’t be on this occasion. As to an expert aviator, we’ve got Dave Dashaway.”
“Yes, I’ve heard of him.”