The monoplane heeled over and the pilot went
out of sight behind the wreckage. The graceful white tail stood
high in air.

Running as fast as he could, Harry got to the scene of the accident
before the airman had risen from the ground. The strap which had
held him into his seat had burst, and he had suffered a nasty spill.
Investigation showed, however, that he was but little the worse,
save for the shock and the fright. He was as pale as a sheet.
Harry helped him to his feet and assisted him to take stock of his
injuries. By the time they had discovered that no bones were broken
and the bruises the young fellow had sustained were quite superficial,
Parks, the head instructor, dashed up in a motor car. As he leaped
out beside the wrecked plane, there was a frown on his face. "Another
smash?" he queried.

Harry learned later that the young airman had already smashed up two
machines that week before demolishing the old monoplane.

"What was wrong this time?" Parks spoke sharply.

Without hesitation the young pilot answered: "I must have hitched
the old girl up wrong, some way. This friend here," nodding toward
Harry, "was good enough to tell me before I started that I had mussed
things up before I got into her. I was a fool not to have listened
to him, but," and he paused, smiling, "but he looked pretty young to
be giving advice. I wish now I had listened to him."

Parks turned to Harry. "You knew where the trouble was?"

"The control wires were crossed," Harry answered simply.

"You noticed that, did you?" continued Parks. "When have you seen
this type of plane before?"

"This one is the only one I have ever seen," was Harry's reply. "I
have read up on this type, though, quite a bit. I had a book that
contained an awful lot about this particular sort of machine, and I
could almost put one together. It's easy enough to see crossed wires
if your eye happens to light on them."

"Yes," said Parks. "It's easy enough if you have the right sort of
an eye. That's the real question. You are one of those boys from
Brighton Academy, are you not? Are you in the same bunch that Hill
and Little came from? If you are, I guess I can use you in the way
I am using them. Would you like to get some practical experience
round the hangars? You youngsters seem to be under the chief's eye,
from what I hear, and I understand he wants to see you all get a
chance to push on."

"We all want to get into the hangars