That night the company dispersed very early. The altitude, the crisp untainted air and the novelty combined to make everyone sleepy. Mr. Hammond was in the best of spirits. Tail winds had helped them on, they had used all the engines, and were already three hours ahead of the schedule of the Graf Zeppelin. Thursday morning, the seventeenth of June, found the ship sailing serenely along over a floor of heavy clouds. The sun shone brightly, and the air was even, but there was a low humming in the wires that disturbed David. He found Red in his cubicle, and told him that he looked for a storm. “Well, I’ve a prickling in my thumbs, too,” said Red. “And when it comes, it’s going to be a wow. I think I’ll take a look over the old boat and see that everything is ship-shape.” He commenced to put on the smooth buttonless overalls which, with felt shoes, were always worn by anyone moving about in the hull. They were designed to prevent any scratching or tearing of the fabric of the gas bags and air bags. “God help the man at the head of a gang; he’s every man’s slave. My crew is made up of fine efficient fellas, but this trip has gone to their heads. As soon as they saw themselves crossin’ big water, they all took out little notebooks from their kits, and commenced jottin’ down ‘experiences’. “An’ when I said, ‘You blamed lunatics, what for is that?’ they told me they were ‘writing it up for the papers at home’! Tryin’ to be a bunch of Lindys, and Byrds, and Strassers. I simply said, ‘And have I novelists, or have I mechanics, then?’” David laughed and asked, “Got another ’all?” He slipped into the garment Red threw him, and together they went up into the hull. That afternoon the motion of the ship became a little jerky; and David and Red, on another inspection trip, had some trouble in making their way over the bags, along the catwalk, and among the taut wires and spanners. Occasionally they stood listening to the talk of the ship, with its multitude of little mechanical noises which, to the educated ear, was harmonious as an orchestra. “Singin’ pretty, isn’t she?” Red said finally. “Hey, there, don’t that wire just in front of us sag a bit?” He wormed his way over to the winch and pulled up the offending brace, testing it until it sang softly. “Now for the eggs full of engines,” he said, as he started back, David following. “Honestly, Red, all this isn’t your job,” protested David. Red turned and stared deep into David’s eyes. For the first time David saw pin points of flame in the blue depths. He spoke, and his voice carried a new note. “Any job’s my job, so be it’s for the Moonbeam. There’s going to be a blow, Dave. We’re coming into wind. I have seen too many ‘northers’ in Oklahoma to make any mistake. What I want to know is, why don’t they radio the nearest station and see what weather’s scheduled ahead.” “The receiver’s gone on the blink,” said David briefly. “That’s why they didn’t get any messages through.”