ake him show his stuff or take a beating--if
that is what he wants."

They were in the colonel's office. "You had better go and get warmed
up," he told the flyer: "then come back here for instructions." But
Blake was more anxious for information than for other comforts.

"I'm all right," he said: "just tired a bit. Let me stretch out here,
Colonel, and give me the dope on what you expect of our visitor and
what we will do."

* * * * *

He settled back comfortably in a big chair. The office was warm, and
Blake knew now he had been doing a day's work.

"We will just take it as it comes," Colonel Boynton explained. "I
can't for the life of me figure why the craft was spying around here.
What are they looking for? We haven't any big secrets the whole world
doesn't know.

"Of course he may not return. But if he does I want you to go up and
give him the once over. I can trust you to note every significant
detail.

"You saw no wings. If it is a dirigible, let's know something of their
power and how they can throw themselves up into the air the way you
described. Watch for anything that may serve to identify it and its
probable place of manufacture--any peculiarity of marking or design or
construction that may give us a lead. Then return and report."

Blake nodded his understanding of what was wanted, but his mind was on
further contingencies: he wanted definite instructions.

"And," he asked; "if they attack--what then? Is their fire to be
returned?"

"If they make one single false move," said Colonel Boynton savagely,
"give them everything you've got. And the 91st Squadron will be off
the ground to support you at the first sign of trouble. We don't want
to start anything, nor appear to do so. But, by the gods, Blake, this
fellow means trouble eventually as sure as you're a flyer, and we
won't wait for him to ask for it twice."

* * * * *

They sat in silence, while the field outside became shrouded in night.
And they speculated, as best they could from the few facts they had,
as to what this might mean to the world, to their country, to
themselves. It was an hour before Blake was aware of the fact that he
was hungry.

He rose to leave, but paused while Colonel Boynton answered the phone.
The first startled exclamation held him rigid while he tried to piece
together the officer's curt responses and guess at what was being
told.

"Colonel Boynton