The man named Welkfurn called, as he approached the balloon: “You guys must ’a’ been working all night, to be out here this time of day. How you making out?” “Fine,” Conway replied. “Set those barographs down and give us a hand here. What’d the jeweler say? I guess he got the oil off all right.” “Should have,” said Welkfurn. “Told me he worked all night on ’em. Got a fine day for a trip like this, eh? Awful cold down here, though.... Say, Charley Redfern ran into a culvert with that big new car of his last night. Saw the wreck a while ago as I was going to town. Tore her up mighty bad; Charley didn’t have it paid for either. Don’t know what he’s--” “Brought everything back from town, did you?” Conway interrupted. “Yeah, everything you sent.... Hello, Kisner! Got you working! How come? Say, Con, what time are you going to take off? Morning papers carried a story on you and the _Marie_; there’s going to be a crowd out to see you shove off. I was talking to that skinny little reporter that covers the field on this kind of stuff: he was looking for you to get a write-up, and he wants to get a yarn and some pictures for a full page for Sunday. Told him you’re busy as hell and that he’d get run off the place if he showed up out here, but he said: ‘Got to do it, Lieutenant; guess I better get out there right after noon and see the Captain.’ I’m going to get me a club and wait for him. Say, Kis, how about a cigarette?” “You through talking?” Conway grinned. “Kisner’s got a lot to do down there before I take off. How about doing a little work yourself?” “Work?”--indignantly. “Say, who was it got up at seven o’clock this morning and drove thirty miles to get those barographs? Battery frozen, too; had to crank the bus by hand. Nearly froze to death! Just got the seat warmed up as I was driving up to the hangar--” “Hand me those instruments,” Conway interrupted. “Be careful with ’em too!” Welkfurn handed the black boxes up, one at a time. Then he turned and squatted beside Kisner, busied himself with the adjustment of a sand-release on an empty sandbag. * * * * * Occasionally Kisner or Welkfurn looked up and directed some question at Conway, queried this or that in connection with the preparation for the flight. Kisner was all engaged with the work he had to do; Welkfurn, on the other hand, kept up a running conversation. From time to time he made some friendly jest about Conway’s ability as a balloonist. “Ought to get the record this time,” Welkfurn called. “Tried it three times now; had lots of practice trying to get it. Better make it on this trip; you’ll be running out of excuses pretty soon.” Conway paused, stopped his work and stood with mittened hands upon his hips. “A helluva lot you know about altitude records, fella! Want to fly this one, for a change? I’ll let you!” “Guess not this time. _Marie_ and I don’t get along so well. I haven’t got the master’s touch.” And Welkfurn laughed.