“Maybe,” said Kennedy.  “But is that all you see?  Look up in the little window of the gable, the one with the closed shutter.”

I looked carefully.  “It seems to me that I saw a gleam of something bright at the top of the shutter, Craig,” I ventured.  “A spark or a flash.”

“It must be a bright spark, for the sun is shining brightly,” mused Craig.

“Oh, maybe it’s the small boy with a looking-glass.  I can remember when I used to get behind such a window and shine a glass into the darkened room of my neighbours across the street.”

I had really said that half in raillery, for I was at a loss to account in any other way for the light, but I was surprised to see how eagerly Craig accepted it.

“Perhaps you are right, in a way,” he assented.  “I guess it isn’t a spark, after all.  Yes, it must be the reflection of the sun on a piece of glass—­the angles are just about right for it.  Anyhow it caught my eye.  Still, I believe that barn will bear watching.”

Whatever his suspicions, Craig kept them to himself, and descended.  At the same time Norton gently dropped back to earth in front of his hangar, not ten feet from the spot where he started.  The applause was deafening, as the machine was again wheeled into the shed safely.

Kennedy and I pushed through the crowd to the wireless operator.

“How’s she working?” inquired Craig.

“Rotten,” replied the operator sullenly.  “It was worse than ever about five minutes ago.  It’s much better now, almost normal again.”

Just then the messenger-boy, who had been hunting through the crowd for us, handed Kennedy a note.  It was merely a scrawl from Norton: 

 “Everything seems fine.  Am going to try her next with the
  gyroscope.  Norton.”

“Boy,” exclaimed Craig, “has Cdr.  Norton a telephone?”

“No, sir, only that hangar at the end has a telephone.”

“Well, you run across that field as fast as your legs can carry you and tell him if he values his life not to do it.”

“Not to do what, sir?”

“Don’t stand there, youngster.  Run!  Tell him not to fly with that gyroscope.  There’s a five-spot in it if you get over there before he starts.”

Even as he spoke the Norton aeroplane was wheeled out again.  In a minute Norton had climbed up into his seat and was testing the levers.

Would the boy reach him in time?  He was half across the field, waving his arms like mad.  But apparently Norton and his men were too engrossed in their machine to pay attention.

“Good heavens!” exclaimed Craig.  “He’s going to try it.  Run, boy, run!” he cried, although the boy was now far out of hearing.

Across the field we could hear now the quick staccato chug-chug of the engine.  Slowly Norton’s aeroplane, this time really equipped with the gyroscope, rose from the field and circled over toward us.  Craig frantically signalled to him to come down, but of course Norton could not have seen him in the crowd.  As for the crowd, they looked askance at Kennedy, as if he had taken leave of his senses.