nly limp home under half power. A rather curt telegram
from his Imperial master is said to have been Count von Zeppelin's
first intimation that he had broken an engagement.

However, he kept it two months later, flying to Berlin, a distance
of 475 miles. He was greeted with mad enthusiasm and among the crowd
to welcome him was Orville Wright the American aviator. It is a
curious coincidence that on the day the writer pens these words the
New York newspapers contain accounts of Mr. Wright's proffer of his
services, and aeronautical facilities, to the President in case an
existing diplomatic break with Germany should reach the point of
actual war. Mr. Wright accompanied his proffer by an appeal for a
tremendous aviation force, "but," said he, "I strongly advise
against spending any money whatsoever on dirigible balloons of any
sort."

Thereafter the progress of Count von Zeppelin was without
interruption for any lack of financial strength. His great works at
Friedrichshaven expanded until they were capable of putting out a
complete ship in eight weeks. He was building, of course, primarily
for war, and never concealed the fact that the enemy he expected to
be the target of his bomb throwers was England. What the airships
accomplished in this direction, how greatly they were developed, and
the strength and weakness of the German air fleet, will be dwelt
upon in another chapter.

But, though building primarily for military purposes, Zeppelin did
not wholly neglect the possibilities of his ship for non-military
service. He built one which made more than thirty trips between
Munich and Berlin, carrying passengers who paid a heavy fee for the
privilege of enjoying this novel form of travel. The car was fitted
up like our most up-to-date Pullmans, with comfortable seats, bright
lights, and a kitchen from which excellent meals were served to
the passengers. The service was not continued long enough to
determine whether it could ever be made commercially profitable,
but as an aid to firing the Teutonic heart and an assistance in
selling stock it was well worth while. The spectacle of one of these
great cars, six hundred or more feet long, floating grandly on even
keel and with a steady course above one of the compact little towns
of South Germany, was one to thrill the pulses.

But the ill luck which pursued Count von Zeppelin even in what
seemed to be his moments of assured success was remorseless. In 1912
he produced the