aeroplane swerved into a straight course from its last curve
and followed. The race was on. Peter Winn, looking up, saw that the
pigeon was outdistancing the machine. Then he saw something else. The
aeroplane suddenly and instantly became smaller. It had reefed. Its
high-speed plane-design was now revealed. Instead of the generous
spread of surface with which it had taken the air, it was now a lean and
hawklike monoplane balanced on long and exceedingly narrow wings.

*****

When young Winn reefed down so suddenly, he received a surprise. It
was his first trial of the new device, and while he was prepared for
increased speed he was not prepared for such an astonishing increase. It
was better than he dreamed, and, before he knew it, he was hard upon
the pigeon. That little creature, frightened by this, the most monstrous
hawk it had ever seen, immediately darted upward, after the manner of
pigeons that strive always to rise above a hawk.

In great curves the monoplane followed upward, higher and higher into
the blue. It was difficult, from underneath to see the pigeon, and young
Winn dared not lose it from his sight. He even shook out his reefs in
order to rise more quickly. Up, up they went, until the pigeon, true
to its instinct, dropped and struck at what it thought to be the back of
its pursuing enemy. Once was enough, for, evidently finding no life in
the smooth cloth surface of the machine, it ceased soaring and
straightened out on its eastward course.

A carrier pigeon on a passage can achieve a high rate of speed, and
Winn reefed again. And again, to his satisfaction, he found that he was
beating the pigeon. But this time he quickly shook out a portion of his
reefed sustaining surface and slowed down in time. From then on he knew
he had the chase safely in hand, and from then on a chant rose to his
lips which he continued to sing at intervals, and unconsciously, for the
rest of the passage. It was: "Going some; going some; what did I tell
you!--going some."

Even so, it was not all plain sailing. The air is an unstable medium at
best, and quite without warning, at an acute angle, he entered an aerial
tide which he recognized as the gulf stream of wind that poured through
the drafty-mouthed Golden Gate. His right wing caught it first--a
sudden, sharp puff that lifted and tilted the monoplane and threatened
to capsize it. But he rode with a sensitive "loose curb," and quickly,
but not too quickly, he shifted t