"What do you think of this type of plane?" Ford asked Tim, pointing to the nearest one on the floor. "It looks sturdy enough to me," replied the flying reporter. "What about the speed?" "It will cruise comfortably at 130 and can be pushed up to around 145," replied the sales manager. "The wings are hinged and can be folded back along the fuselage." "Which will mean a saving of space, an important factor with us," put in Ford. "Can you give us an actual demonstration?" "It's a little late to reach the plant out on Long Island in time for trial flights this afternoon. Couldn't we arrange it tomorrow morning?" Ford agreed and they arranged to meet at the office again at nine the next day. "We'll take that type if it proves up to expectations after Murphy has made several test trips," he said. "I've a great many things remaining on my list to do for today," said Ford as they left the office, "and I'm a little hesitant about leaving Pat alone on the _S-18_ all night. Of course the Laidlaw yard has plenty of watchmen but you never can tell what Sladek may attempt. I'd feel a little better if you would take your duffle and go across the river and spend the night with Pat." "I might just as well get used to sleeping on the _S-18_ now as later," said Tim. "I'll get my things and be over at the yard in less than an hour." The flying reporter checked out of the hotel where they had registered that morning and stopped at an army goods store where he purchased three blankets and two kits of utensils. Then he taxied over to Brooklyn, stopped at a food store to lay in a supply of cold meat, bread, butter, potato chips, a sack of fruit and some small chocolate cakes. His arms were filled when he finally reached the gate of the shipyard and was admitted. "You're just in time. I was getting ready to close the gate for the night," the watchman informed him. "Mr. Ford has given strict orders about admitting anyone after six o'clock." "Two of us are to stay aboard the _S-18_ tonight to see that nothing happens," said Tim. "There'll be no one getting through this gate," said the watchman firmly, but he was an elderly man and Tim surmised that he might enjoy an occasional nap in the darker hours of the night. Shouting for Pat to come on deck, Tim threw down the packages of food, the blankets and then his own traveling bag, finally scrambling down the ladder himself. "You look like a land crab when it comes to getting down a ladder gracefully," chuckled the red-haired Pat. "Of course, there's just a chance you may learn while you're on this trip." "You may have the laugh on me when it comes to getting around in a submarine, but wait until I get you into the air. Believe me I'll show you a trick or two in an airplane." "Which is just what you won't do," countered Pat. "I know when I'm well enough off and the _S-18_ suits me. No wings, thank you."