nd.

"Hold on, father, don't send that money," said Peter Winn, Junior.
"Number Eight is ready, and I know I've at last got that reefing down
fine. It will work, and it will revolutionize flying. Speed--that's
what's needed, and so are the large sustaining surfaces for getting
started and for altitude. I've got them both. Once I'm up I reef down.
There it is. The smaller the sustaining surface, the higher the speed.
That was the law discovered by Langley. And I've applied it. I can rise
when the air is calm and full of holes, and I can rise when its boiling,
and by my control of my plane areas I can come pretty close to making
any speed I want. Especially with that new Sangster-Endholm engine."

"You'll come pretty close to breaking your neck one of these days," was
his father's encouraging remark.

"Dad, I'll tell you what I'll come pretty close to-ninety miles an
hour--Yes, and a hundred. Now listen! I was going to make a trial
tomorrow. But it won't take two hours to start today. I'll tackle it
this afternoon. Keep that money. Give me the pigeon and I'll follow her
to her loft where ever it is. Hold on, let me talk to the mechanics."

He called up the workshop, and in crisp, terse sentences gave his orders
in a way that went to the older man's heart. Truly, his one son was a
chip off the old block, and Peter Winn had no meek notions concerning
the intrinsic value of said old block.

Timed to the minute, the young man, two hours later, was ready for the
start. In a holster at his hip, for instant use, cocked and with the
safety on, was a large-caliber automatic pistol. With a final inspection
and overhauling he took his seat in the aeroplane. He started the
engine, and with a wild burr of gas explosions the beautiful fabric
darted down the launching ways and lifted into the air. Circling, as he
rose, to the west, he wheeled about and jockeyed and maneuvered for the
real start of the race.

This start depended on the pigeon. Peter Winn held it. Nor was it
weighted with shot this time. Instead, half a yard of bright ribbon was
firmly attached to its leg--this the more easily to enable its flight
being followed. Peter Winn released it, and it arose easily enough
despite the slight drag of the ribbon. There was no uncertainty about
its movements. This was the third time it had made particular homing
passage, and it knew the course.

At an altitude of several hundred feet it straightened out and went due
east. The