unlike the complaint of a long unused door, "well, Mortlake, we are
getting ahead, I see."

The two men had, by this time, passed within the big sliding doors of the
freshly-painted shed, and now stood in a maze of machinery and strange
looking bits of apparatus. From skylights in the roof--there were no side
windows to gratify the inquisitive--the sunlight streamed down on three or
four partially completed aircraft. With their yellow wings of vulcanized
cloth, and their slender bodies, like long tails, they resembled so many
dragon-flies, or "devil's darning needles," assembled in conclave upon the
level floor. At the farther end of the shed was a small blast furnace,
shooting upward a livid, blue spout of flame, which roared savagely.
Actively engaged at their various tasks at lathes and work-benches, were a
dozen or more overalled mechanics, the most skillful in their line that
could be gathered. Here and there were the motors, the driving power of
the "dragon flies." The engines glistened with new paint and bright brass
and copper parts. Behind them were ranged big propellers of laminated, or
joined wood, in stripes of brown and yellow timber. Altogether, the
Mortlake plant was as complete a one for the manufacture of aerial
machines as could have been found in the country.

"Yes, we are getting along, Mr. Harding," returned Mortlake, "and it's
time, too. By the way, Lieut. Bradbury is due here at noon. I want to have
everything as far advanced as possible in time for his visit. You won't
mind accompanying me then, while I oversee the workmen?"

Followed by Mr. Harding, he made an active, nervous tour of the
work-benches, dropping a reproof here and a nod of commendation or advice
there.