The engines were adding a deep roar to the human sounds. People strained against those in front, and pushed them into the ropes. Small dogs dodged into the open space and barked. The crew swarmed up and took their places in the ship, with excitement written large all over them. Two of the reporters paused for last-minute shots. Movie cameramen, thanking their stars for the bright sun that had appeared, ground frantically. Automobiles began to toot their horns as at length, the last man on board, the ground crew of five hundred men walked toward the ship from the spread-fan positions they had been holding. The twenty thousand spectators let out a mighty roar; a sea of upturned faces watched as the Moonbeam rose slowly, her motors drowning the noise of the crowd. From a window Mr. Hammond searched through his glasses for a familiar little figure. “I thought the kid would wave me off, after all,” he said to himself. “Wish now I had brought her along. At least I would know where she was.” “Couldn’t have had a better take-off, commander,” said Captain Fraine, at his side. “Her engines simply sing.” “Glad you are pleased, captain,” answered Mr. Hammond. “We’ll soon see how she performs. We are out to make a record, as you know, and that means a steady, day-after-day excellence. From Lakehurst to Friedrichshafen is approximately forty-two hundred miles. We have got to make up some of our time on that leg of the trip. I don’t know Russia at all; in fact, I am a little dubious about it, although Dr. Eckener experienced no trouble whatever.” “Why didn’t you bring your daughter along, commander?” asked Captain Fraine. “The Graf Zeppelin had a woman passenger.” “I know, I know! I suppose I am just fussy over the kid. I wanted her where I knew she would be safe. She’s going to the seashore. Hope she won’t swim out too far.” “Does she drive her own car?” asked Fraine, hiding a grin. “Lord, yes, drives like the very devil.” He turned his back, and looked down. The crowds were far away. “Buck up, buck up, you old fool!” he told himself savagely. “She’s all right—but I’ll bring her along next time.” The sunlight was glorious; glittering and flashing, the ship circled above Ayre, returned to her own field, and dipped low in a graceful gesture of farewell, while the waiting crowds went mad. Rising, she sped eastward toward Lakehurst, her first stop. Under her flowed the lovely panorama of Ohio; gently rolling woodland, wide and opulent farms with dark patches of plowed lands and the lush green of springing crops. Towns appeared here and there, little huddles of houses at crossroads, and large cities, where the smoke of manufactories spiraled lazily upwards, as though pointing indolently at the passing ship. David went into the chart room, and found Red poring over the passenger list. “I see we’ve got a medico with us,” he said. “Yes, Dr. Forsythe; of course the Company would send their own doctor.”