kertons engaged by the
management for the meet, and had also dropped in to see the wireless
operator to ask him to send up a messenger if he saw the same phenomena
as he had observed the day before.

On the roof Kennedy took from his pocket a little instrument with a
needle which trembled back and forth over a dial. It was nearing the
time for the start of the day's flying, and the aeroplanes were getting
ready. Kennedy was calmly biting a cigar, casting occasional glances at
the needle as it oscillated. Suddenly, as Williams rose in the Wright
machine, the needle swung quickly and pointed straight at the aviation
field, vibrating through a small area, back and forth.

"The operator is getting his apparatus ready to signal to Williams,"
remarked Craig. "This is an apparatus called an ondometer. It tells you
the direction and something of the magnitude of the Hertzian waves used
in wireless."

Five or ten minutes passed. Norton was getting ready to fly. I could see
through my field glass that he was putting something over his gyroscope
and over the dynamo, but could not quite make out what it was. His
machine seemed to leap up in the air as if eager to redeem itself.
Norton with his white-bandaged head was the hero of the hour. No sooner
had his aeroplane got up over the level of the trees than I heard a
quick exclamation from Craig.

"Look at the needle, Walter!" he cried. "As soon as Norton got into the
air it shot around directly opposite to the wireless station, and now it
is pointing--"

We raised our eyes in the direction which it indicated. It was precisely
in line with the weather-beaten barn.

I gasped. What did it mean? Did it mean in some way another accident to
Norton--perhaps fatal this time? Why had Kennedy allowed him to try it
to-day when there was even a suspicion that some nameless terror was
abroad in the air? Quickly I turned to see if Norton was all right. Yes,
there he was, circling above us in a series of wide spirals, climbing
up, up. Now he seemed almost to stop, to hover motionless. He was
motionless. His engine had been cut out, and I could see his propeller
stopped. He was riding as a ship rides on the ocean.

A boy ran up the ladder to the roof. Kennedy unfolded the note and
shoved it into my hands. It was from the operator.

"Wireless out of business again. Curse that fellow who is butting in. Am
keeping record," was all it said.

I shot a glance of inquiry at Kennedy, but he was