Without the ability to achieve the eminence he aspired to, he longed for a foremost place in the public eye. In his thoughts all heroes wore his own features. Lindbergh, winging his lonely way to France; Byrd, exploring a frozen world; Andrews, forcing the Gobi desert to speak an articulate language of past æons—Cram wanted what they had, but he had grown into a lazy man, incapable of sustained effort. Reading a newspaper in his New York hotel one day, Wally had seen an article that had given him a grand idea—a magnificent idea. At once he called his lawyers in Oklahoma City on long distance, and held a conversation with them filled with so many millions that even the telephone operator was impressed. A week later he was in Ayre, and walking through the lobby of the hotel he heard a familiar voice. “Why, Mister Cram!” it said. “Dulcie Hammond, by all that’s good!” ejaculated Cram. “What are you doing here?” “Looking after daddy, as usual,” Dulcie Hammond laughed. “He’s here in pursuit of his hobby. Perhaps I should call it a life work. You know the new dirigible starts on her maiden trip around the world in two weeks, and naturally dad is going. He says I can’t go; isn’t that wet? In the meantime I am seeing that he takes his bicarb after meals, and making him lay off hot dogs, and pop corn and pie. Heavens, he’s an unruly child! Between times I mostly hang around the plant and watch them put the finishing touches to the ship. Did you know that I named her? She’s the Moonbeam.” “Fine! Why don’t you go along?” “It’s to be a sort of stag party,” said Dulcie petulantly. “I can’t make dad understand that I wouldn’t be a bother. I’ll bet Lady Drummond Hay wasn’t a bother. I met her in New York, and she told me their trip was just too galumptious. And I am just as good a sport as she is, and probably tougher, because I’m younger.” She pondered. “Well, we’ll see! But what are you doing here?” “Just looking after some investments. I have stock in the Goodlow Plant, and I have just invested a lot of money in the Moonbeam; enough, I hope, to get me a berth on her round-the-world cruise. I am going out to the drome now. Won’t you come?” “Got to do some shopping,” said Dulcie. “Sorry. Oh, Wally, the ship is too beautiful for words, even now, while she is still unfinished.” Cram laughed. “Rot! The dirigible is nothing but a balloon.” Dulcie gave him a scornful glance. “You have a sordid soul,” she said, and walked away. That night David and Red had orders to report at sunrise for a short trip in the Dawn, a smaller dirigible which had been in commission for a couple of months. They went up with the usual crew, and Mr. Hammond and Captain Fraine and half a dozen others as passengers. David, to his surprise, was put in full charge of the ship, Captain Fraine preferring to wander around, inspecting. They were out for twenty-four hours, without stops, and David returned the ship to Ayre, making a perfect landing at the hangar.