later the captain of the ship, for the fleet's admiral was
out in a launch inspecting what little of the fallen ZX-2 was still
floating on the surface, was at the operator's side, listening
amazedly.

The operator read off, word for word, what Chris Travers had sent.
"... There was a contrivance planted aboard to blow up the ship and
send it down in flames as the ZX-2 was. The thing that did it is--" he
finished, and fell silent on that uncompleted sentence.

The captain's lined face expressed incredulity. "My God!" he burst
out. "First the ZX-2, now-- That all?"

"Yes, sir. I can't get any answer or connection."

They stared at each other. Finally the captain spluttered:

"Is some maniac loose in this fleet? Don't sit there like a fool, man!
Get in touch with the _Saratoga_; tell 'em what you received; tell 'em
to send some men up to that dirigible, wherever she is. We can't lose
both of them!"

The operator's fingers skipped nimbly; even while he was speaking into
the microphone, the red-faced captain had rushed back into the control
bridge and was roaring:

"Signal the Admiral back here! Hurry!"

* * * * *

Things moved quickly then; small things, but significant. A casual eye
glancing over the ranks of the Black Fleet as it lay around the scene
of the tragedy, waiting for orders, would not have noticed any
difference. The launch containing the fleet's admiral, which had been
fussing about with its load of officers and various dignitaries,
suddenly wheeled and pointed back for the mammoth flagship, in
response to swift signals from the arms of a gob on her bridge; and,
on the broad landing deck of the carrier, _Saratoga_, two three-seater
planes, equipped with automatic clamps for a dirigible's rack, were
wheeled up to the line.

Their props were spun over. But even before their cockpits had been
filled, an officer on the bridge of the flagship, and a dozen others
throughout the fleet, cried:

"There she is!"

Over the eastern horizon, a gleaming sliver in the sunlight, thundered
the ZX-1, straight for the array of the Black Fleet. Only a few men
were aware of the drama-fraught message which had come down from her
radio cubby, but her growing shape commanded the eyes of every sailor
and officer alike who had time to watch. A few telescopic sights were
trained on her as she bellowed ahead; the keen old eyes of a very
perplexed and puzzled admiral were at one of them.

"