‘Stop a minute—­you don’t know how funny you look!’ She put her hands on her hips and laughed mercilessly.

‘Don’t worry about that,’ said Arnott, and whistled.  A voice answered from the Victor Pirolo in the meadow.

‘Only a single-fuse ground-circuit!’ Arnott called.  ’Sort it out gently, please.’

We heard the ping of a breaking lamp; a fuse blew out somewhere in the verandah roof, frightening a nestful of birds.  The ground-circuit was open.  We stooped and rubbed our tingling ankles.

‘How rude—­how very rude of you!’ the maiden cried.

‘’Sorry, but we haven’t time to look funny,’ said Arnott.  ’We’ve got to go to Chicago; and if I were you, young lady, I’d go into the cellars for the next two hours, and take mother with me.’

Off he strode, with us at his heels, muttering indignantly, till the humour of the thing struck and doubled him up with laughter at the foot of the gang-way ladder.

’The Board hasn’t shown what you might call a fat spark on this occasion,’ said De Forest, wiping his eyes.  ’I hope I didn’t look as big a fool as you did, Arnott!  Hullo!  What on earth is that?  Dad coming home from Chicago?’

There was a rattle and a rush, and a five-plough cultivator, blades in air like so many teeth, trundled itself at us round the edge of the timber, fuming and sparking furiously.

‘Jump!’ said Arnott, as we bundled ourselves through the none-too-wide door.  ‘Never mind about shutting it.  Up!’

The Victor Pirolo lifted like a bubble, and the vicious machine shot just underneath us, clawing high as it passed.

‘There’s a nice little spit-kitten for you!’ said Arnott, dusting his knees.  ’We ask her a civil question.  First she circuits us and then she plays a cultivator at us!’

‘And then we fly,’ said Dragomiroff.  ’If I were forty years more young, I would go back and kiss her.  Ho!  Ho!’

‘I,’ said Pirolo, ’would smack her!  My pet ship has been chased by a dirty plough; a—­how do you say?—­agricultural implement.’

‘Oh, that is Illinois all over,’ said De Forest.  ’They don’t content themselves with talking about privacy.  They arrange to have it.  And now, where’s your alleged fleet, Arnott?  We must assert ourselves against this wench.’

Arnott pointed to the black heavens.

‘Waiting on—­up there,’ said he.  ’Shall I give them the whole installation, sir?’

‘Oh, I don’t think the young lady is quite worth that,’ said De Forest.  ‘Get over Chicago, and perhaps we’ll see something.’

In a few minutes we were hanging at two thousand feet over an oblong block of incandescence in the centre of the little town.

’That looks like the old City Hall.  Yes, there’s Salati’s Statue in front of it,’ said Takahira.  ’But what on earth are they doing to the place?  I thought they used it for a market nowadays!  Drop a little, please.’