rive. He taught him every technical thing he knew. Georges
launched with all his energy into this new career, and soon became
acquainted with every motor in existence. During the school promenades,
if the column of pupils walked up or down the Champs Elysees, he told
them the names of passing automobiles: "That's a Lorraine. There is a
Panhard. This one has so many horsepower," etc. Woe to any who ventured
to contradict him. He looked the insolent one up and down, and crushed
him with a word.

He was overjoyed when the college organized Thursday afternoon visits to
factories. He chose his companions in advance, sometimes compelling them
to give up a game of tennis. Krebs was one of them. For Georges the
visits to the Puteaux and Dion-Bouton factories were a feast of which he
was often to speak later. He went, not as a sightseer, but as a
connoisseur. He could not bring himself to remain with the engineer who
showed the party through the works. He required more liberty, more time
to investigate everything for himself, to see and touch everything. The
smallest detail interested him; he questioned the workmen, asking them
the use of some screw, and a thousand other things. The visit was too
soon over for him; and when his comrades had already left, and the
division prefect was calling the roll to make sure of all his boys,
Guynemer as usual was missing, and was discovered standing in ecstasy
before a machine which some workmen were engaged in setting up.

"The opening weeks of the automobile and aviation exhibition were a
period of comparative tranquillity for his masters, as Guynemer was no
longer the same restless, nervous, mischievous boy, being too anxious to
retain his privileges for the promenades. He was always one of those who
haunted the prefect when the hour for departure drew near. He was
impatient to know where they were to go: 'Where are we going?... Shall
you take us to the Grand Palais? (The Automobile and Aviation
Exhibition).... Wouldn't you be a brick!...' When they arrived, he was
not one of those many curious people who circulate aimlessly around the
stands with their hands in their pockets, without reaping anything but
fatigue, like a cyclist on a circular track. His plans were all made in
advance, and he knew where the stand was which he meant to visit. He
went directly there, where his ardor and his free and easy behavior drew
upon him the admonitions of the proprietor. But nothing stopped him, and