No one asked him the purpose or object he had in view. Silently, and with eyes averted, the men obeyed his orders; and the officers all kept distinctly aloof, although usually when there was a flight to be undertaken a crowd was very quick to gather. “Never mind,” Grail said to himself. “By to-morrow, if all goes well, the tide will have turned, and they’ll be only too anxious to hear what I have to say.” The preparations completed, he climbed into the light framework under the big, swaying bag, and was just about to give the order “Let go!” when, casting a final glance about, he chanced to observe that two of the cords which held up the car were badly frayed. Had a flight been attempted with them in that condition there could hardly have failed to be a serious accident. Stopping his engine, Grail sprang to the ground, and faced the little squad of men who had been helping him make ready. “This machine was in perfect condition when it was brought out of the hangar,” he remarked to them grimly, as he pointed to the almost severed ropes. “Consequently one of you must be responsible for this damage.” Then, as they hesitated, glancing uncertainly at one another, he took a quick step forward, and caught up a sharp fragment of broken glass which one of them--a new recruit by the name of Simmons--had attempted to drop behind him. “Ah!” he cried triumphantly. “I thought I would be able to smoke out the culprit. Now we will have the corporal of the guard.” He held the offender in a close grip until the corporal he summoned arrived; then turned him over, with an injunction that he be held in close confinement, and permitted to speak to no one, or send out any word, until his own return. Presently the weakened cords were replaced with new ones, under his instructions, and everything was again in readiness for the flight. It may seem strange that Grail did not immediately follow up so serious an affair; but, as a matter of fact, he was so perturbed and puzzled by the dastardly attempt on his life that he wanted a little time for reflection. Was it merely the crazy freak of a simple-minded “rookie,” or did the incident hold a deeper and more sinister significance? Could it be a further development of the plot which had already resulted in the colonel’s disappearance, and was Simmons merely a tool in the hands of the secret conspirators? Revolving these questions and many others in his mind, he gave the word to cut loose, and a moment later he was hovering high up in the air above the grassy parade ground. He turned the nose of his craft due east, and, with his propeller whirring, flew away toward the river’s long, crescentlike curve around the town.