med
wreckage were interesting. But it all left me cold. I had no further
interest in life. That the world had escaped an overwhelming disaster
was clear, and it gave me a certain pleasure. But for me it might as
well have been completely destroyed.

Nevertheless, I went to Washington. I felt somehow that I owed it to
Hart Jones, the greatest world hero since Lindbergh. I would at least
listen to what he had to say.

* * * * *

A fast plane carried me, a plane chartered by the government. To me it
seemed that it crawled, though it was a sixth-level ship, and made the
trip in record time. Why I was impatient to reach Washington I do not
know, for I was absolutely disinterested in anything that might occur
there. It was merely that my nerves were on edge, I suppose, and
everything annoyed me.

Hart met me at the airport and greeted me like a long-lost brother. He
talked incessantly and jumped from one subject to the other with the
obvious intention of trying to get my mind off my troubles until we
reached his office in the Air Traffic building.

On his door there was the legend, "Director of Research," and, when we
had entered, I observed that the office was furnished with all the
luxury that suited his new position. I dropped into a deeply upholstered
chair at the side of his mahogany desk, and, for the space of several
minutes, Hart regarded me with concern, speaking not a word.

"Jack, old man," he finally ventured. "I can't talk to you of this
thing. But it makes me feel very badly to see you take it so hard. There
are many things you have to live for, old top, and it is to talk about
these that I sent for you."

"You mean work?" I asked.

"Yes. That is the best thing for us all, in any emergency or under any
circumstances whatever. Preston wants you back for one thing, and he
authorized me to tell you that the job of office manager is waiting for
you at double your former salary."

* * * * *

My eyes misted at this. Preston was a good old scout! But I could never
bear it to return to the old surroundings, even in the city. "No, Hart,"
I said, "I'd rather be away from New York and from that part of the
country. Associations, you know."

"I understand," he replied, "and that is just what I had hoped you would
decide. Because I have a job for you in the Air Service. A good one,
too.

"You know there is much reconstruction work to be done on ear