General Thorne, commander of the Signal Corps, was hiding a yawn, as he listened to Captain Welch’s long report. An orderly brought him a note from the son of his old friend Major James Griffin. The General remembered young Jerry Griffin perfectly, remembered his lean strong young body and his courteous seriousness; and when he read that Jerry was there, with “something very important that I must tell you, _right away_, about the Monterey tests of aeroplanes,” he stepped out to the anteroom, and greeted Hike warmly. Hike’s eyes flashed joy as he saw the kindliness on the ruddy face of the little dried-up, gray-haired, bright-eyed General. “Glad to see you, Gerald. Your father here with you?” “No, sir. It’s like this. Captain Welch—he’s been reporting on the Jolls aeroplanes? Has he mentioned Priest’s tetrahedral?” “I couldn’t very well tell you the content of his report, my boy. But I can say that he hasn’t said anything about _any_ kind of a tetrahedral.” “He should have, sir, because Lieut ——, one of the officers at Monterey, has been making some experiments with a new tetrahedral sort of aeroplane, on the side, and he’s found it a lot the best aeroplane in the world.” The General smiled. “Don’t you suppose Captain Welch would mention it, if that were the case—and I know he won’t because he gave an outline of what his report would be before he started making it. I think you must have been a little fooled about this wonderful new aeroplane of yours, Jerry.” “Why, General Thorne, that tetrahedral could fly from San Francisco to Washington—say three thousand miles, a little over, maybe—at a hundred and fifty to two hundred miles an hour, without a stop, carrying all its fuel, and a thousand or two thousand pounds of freight or explosives or passengers!” “Well, well, that would be quite a feat—but I’m afraid it couldn’t be done, Jerry.” “Well, it _has_ made the trip in about thirty hours—regular rate of a hundred miles an hour, and going at two hundred an hour when it wanted to. Got a gear-change, you see,” declared Hike. “It has? Well, why didn’t I hear about this wonderful flight, pray? When was it made, and who was the aviator?” The General evidently thought there was something the matter with the mind of “Major Griffin’s boy.” Also he seemed to be in a hurry to get back to the meeting of his Board. His smile was kindly but rather hurried. “Oh, the flight was just finished. Thirty hours. Monterey to here. I was the aviator! And the tetrahedral is resting itself over in the White House grounds, now! If you’ll come to a window that overlooks it, I’ll show you!” The General forgot all about the meeting of the Aviation Board, and hurried to a window, from which they could see the great tetrahedral, resting like a nesting hen, with Poodle busily refusing to answer questions put to him by a great crowd, which the police were trying to keep back.