indicated as Stamford. The houses beneath him seemed
companionable; friendly were the hand-waving crowds, and
factory-whistles gave him raucous greeting.

Instantly, now that he knew where he was, the race-fever caught him
again. Despite the strain of crossing the Sound, he would not for
anything have come down to rest. He began to wonder how afar ahead of
him were Titherington and Tad Warren.

He spied a train running north out of Stamford, swung over above it,
and raced with it. The passengers leaned out of the windows, trainmen
hung perilously from the opened doors of vestibuled platforms, the
engineer tooted his frantic greetings to a fellow-mechanic who, above
him in the glorious bird, sent telepathic greetings which the engineer
probably never got. The engineer speeded up; the engine puffed out
vast feathery plumes of dull black smoke. But he drew away from the
train as he neared South Norwalk.

He was ascending again when he noted something that seemed to be a
biplane standing in a field a mile away. He came down and circled the
field. It was Titherington's Farman biplane. He hoped that the kindly
Englishman had not been injured. He made out Titherington, talking to
a group about the machine. Relieved, he rose again, amused by the
ant-hill appearance as hundreds of people, like black bugs, ran toward
the stalled biplane, from neighboring farms and from a trolley-car
standing in the road.

He should not have been amused just then. He was too low. Directly
before him was a hillside crowned with trees. He shot above the trees,
cold in the stomach, muttering, "Gee! that was careless!"

He sped forward. The race-fever again. Could he pass Tad Warren as he
had passed Titherington? He whirled over the towns, shivering but
happy in the mellow, cool October air, far enough from the water to be
out of what fog the brightening sun had left. The fields rolled
beneath him, so far down that they were turned into continuous and
wonderful masses of brown and gold. He sang to himself. He liked
Titherington; he was glad that the Englishman had not been injured;
but it was good to be second in the race; to have a chance to win a
contest which the whole country was watching; to be dashing into a
rosy dawn of fame. But while he sang he was keeping a tense lookout
for Tad Warren. He had to pass him!

With the caution of the Scotchlike Norwegian, he had the cloche
constantly on the jiggle, with ceaseless adjustments to the wind