The Wright brothers now had to assume in aviation the rôle of cautious business men. The gliding experiments had been a scientific recreation, and had been fairly well reported to engineers, except in those details to be covered by patent claims; but the details of the power machine were withheld, or sparingly disclosed. The brothers had sacrificed time and money. They were making aviation a profession. They must, therefore, be repaid. But if they exhibited too promptly their machine and aërodynamic data, they might jeopardize their financial interests by assisting or stimulating rival aviators. On the other hand, by procrastination and concealment they might, in various ways, forfeit priority and scientific credit. Chanute’s glider was already familiar in Europe, and it was estimated to have ample efficiency for successful flight with existent motors. Their own published experiments were being studied and repeated. They might, therefore, expect that, at any time, some rash or cunning fellow would bolt into the air and proclaim to all the world that their unpublished devices, if they possessed any novelty, were by no means necessary, as they fancied, to usher in actual dynamic flight. The aëroplane would thus appear to be the sudden outgrowth of fertile and mature conditions, rather than the product of uncommon originality. Scores of aviators would immediately spring into being—chauffeurs, mechanics, sporting gentlemen of every dye. Light motors being now available, any intelligent artisan could power a Hargrave kite, or Chanute glider, and soar aloft. Every odd craft, not too absurdly designed, would navigate, with some showing. Publicity and prize money would develop and perfect the various types with feverish haste. But in 1905 the Wright brothers apprehended no portentous or imminent invasion of the sky. The foreign bogie was five years behind, being unfamiliar with sand hill practice and the torsion wing. They would, therefore, chance the result of withholding their data and concealing their machine. It was a curious situation; Langley and Manly, who produced the first aëroplane endowed with all the essential powers of prolonged flight, were bound to official secrecy; the Wrights, who had a finished machine, tried and fairly ready for public exhibition, were hampered by trade secrecy. These silent leaders in aviation presented a gratifying contrast to the shouting fraternity who, in the daily press, announced impending marvels which never materialized.