Once the _Hustle_ had landed, two hustlers changed into very tired and somewhat cross boys. There was a slight drizzle. They were too tired to light the alcohol-stove and cook anything, though they were hungry enough, to quote Poodle, “to eat the wheels off’n the chassis.” So they nibbled at tablets of condensed food, crawled into blankets, and disconsolately dozed, feeling as little like heroes of the air as though they had been merely sailing a boat five miles. It was nearly dawn before they got to sleep. When Hike woke, after only five hours’ rest, he still felt weary and “grouchy.” He reckoned by his watch (still set for Pacific Coast time) that it must be almost nine, and rushed down to the Potomac River, near which they were landed. A crowd of farmers had gathered, staring at the boys as though they had dropped from Mars. Hike paid no attention to them, but, slipping behind a big plane tree, pulled off his clothes and dashed into the river. There he splashed till he felt awake again; then sallied out, and persuaded the farmers to leave them in peace. He bought some gasoline at an automobile station, filled the _Hustle’s_ tank, made coffee on the portable stove, and awoke Poodle. The latter sprang up, trying hard to look as though he “felt like a kink,” as, he insisted, he did feel. His injured shoulder was very stiff, but promised to be well in a couple of days—well enough for Poodle to pretend that it was all right, at least! He danced about in his favorite Highland Fling, and managed to look very much unlike a wounded aviator. Hike, though, had grown serious. He had to face the Army Board of Aviation—and that very morning. Poodle said Hike looked “as if he’d found three hairs on his chin, and wanted to be real’ grown-up, to match his big beard!” Breakfast finished, they packed, and Hike wearily took the _Hustle_ up, circled over Washington, and landed in the grounds of the White House, across from the State, War, and Navy Building. From what he had heard his father tell of Washington, and from what he had seen of it as a child, on a visit, he was sure that the Army Board of Aviation would be meeting here; with Captain Willoughby Welch telling how fine the P. J. Jolls aeroplane was. Leaving the tetrahedral, around which a crowd was already gathering, in Poodle’s charge, Hike hurried across to the War Building, and found the Board’s meeting room. He gave a note to the orderly at the door. * * * * *