"Uh-uh. Not near anything else, either. It's not near any airway routes, and private pilots shun that area because there aren't any fields or meadows available for emergency forced-landings." "Sounds good!" Morrow complimented him. "Where do we camp, here?" "I've knocked together a small cabin back in the woods. Grab your stuff out of the truck and come on--I'll fix us some chow!" Morrow climbed into the rear of the truck and slid his luggage back to the tailgate. Smitty took a couple of suitcases, Morrow the third and his equipment case, and they strode off on a narrow trail winding through the trees. "Now what was it you've been working on?" Smitty asked as he led the way. "I've been working, on?" Morrow echoed blankly, his mind filled with sensations of clear, cool mountain breeze and the smell of tall pines and the eternal silence of the woodland. "Yeah!" Smitty prompted. "When we were having dinner, back in L.A., remember, we were talking about the event of anyone catching us at this, that we'd be finished if they did? You said you'd been working on something that would protect us from discovery." "Oh, that!" Morrow grinned. "I merely figured out a means of camouflage." "Camouflage?" "It's still just in its theoretical stage, but I think it'll work. I'll show you my diagrams." "Show me while we're eating." * * * * * The little shack nestled under the pines was cozy and weather-proof, built out of rough lumber and fitted out with hand-made furniture. The air was filled with the aroma of fried bacon, coffee, and wood smoke. They sat at the small, wooden table and ate out of tin plates, washing it down with tin cups of coffee, and Morrow spread his diagrams between them and explained his idea to Smitty. "--So it's all designed around that propulsion unit," he said. "The gravity-control ring establishes a focus of 'false gravity' inside the tail-pipe so that air is sucked in through the scoops on the ship's hull. The air 'falls' into that focus of 'false gravity' and goes on past it to shoot out the tail-pipe at an estimated sixty-mile-an-hour gale." "Couldn't we do just as well with a large electric fan?" Smitty asked, half-jokingly. "This propulsion unit will cost only a fraction of the price of a large air-conditioning fan and motor," Morrow pointed out. Smitty grinned at the diagrams. "Okay, but you've certainly sketched in a fancy-looking ship, there! Aero-dynamically, I'm afraid it wouldn't be too practical--" "I know," Morrow admitted. "But we'll have to work that out and still keep this fancy-looking ship." "How come?" "Because that's the whole idea, Smitty! Think a minute. Suppose we've built our ship and are flight-testing it. So there's always the possibility that someone will see it--" "--And call the cops!" "Right. Normally, that would bring on an investigation and we'd be finished." "I hope they serve good food at Leavenworth!"