That night, after a formal dinner given at the airport in a great banqueting hall, they listened to the Friedrichshafen Choral Society. Next morning, Dulcie slipped away and explored the city. She was a tireless walker, and her pleasant wanderings took her over miles of clean and charming streets. The business part of the town was lavishly decorated with flags and bunting in their honor. Everyone seemed to move with a snap. There were no loiterers. Robust people did robust work, as though they enjoyed it. In the outlying parts, an exquisite neatness prevailed. Small, even humble homes, had their patches of lawn and tiny vegetable plots that were as lovely as rose gardens, so beautifully were they laid out and cared for. Every building seemed fresh with paint. “Even the skies look awfully blue,” Dulcie told herself. “Just like the babies’ eyes.” Her wanderings were delightful; the people were so friendly. They seemed to know, down to the least little toddler, that the pretty fraulein had come in the beautiful airship, for there were pleasant greetings for her wherever she went. A cheery “_Guten Morgen, Fraulein_,” and as likely as not a posy offered over a fence. When they found that she spoke their own tongue, they would scarcely let her go. She reached the hotel just in time to prepare for a luncheon given for her by the Friedrichshafen Association of Housewives. She found numbers of stiff and crackly ladies, from bright-eyed old grandmothers proudly wearing the fashions of forty years ago, to demure brides with soft eyes and pleasant voices that almost made the German gutturals pleasing. Dulcie had a good time, and when she took leave of her cordial hostesses was presented with a souvenir. She thought it was a small feather bed, but it was an eiderdown quilt! It was a lusty quilt, fully six inches thick, and covered with intricate patchwork, the handiwork of the energetic grandmothers. Dulcie was completely overcome. All that afternoon Mr. Hammond and his staff spent at the landing field, where the Moonbeam was being looked over, inch by inch, by her own crew and the German experts as well. To the surprise of all, two small holes, not larger than lead pencils, were found piercing the very tip of her nose. Inside, the metal was fused! She had been struck by lightning during the storm. The injury was soon repaired. Oil and gas were shipped, every bag looked over, and every instrument tested for the long flight over the Siberian wastes. David thrilled at the thought of this part of the flight. It was largely unknown territory, where there was no aid to be had in case of accident. With Red, he himself went over and over the ship, until they knew that she was tuned up to concert pitch.