Already the crowd had begun
to collect. Across the field we could see the various machines in
front of their hangars with the men working on them. The buzz of
the engines was wafted across by the light summer breeze as if a
thousand cicadas had broken loose to predict warm weather.
Two machines were already in flight, a little yellow Demoiselle,
scurrying around close to the earth like a frightened hen, and a
Bleriot, high overhead, making slow and graceful turns like a
huge bird.
Kennedy and I stopped before the little wireless telegraph
station of the signal corps in front of the grand stand and
watched the operator working over his instruments.
"There it is again," muttered the operator angrily.
"What's the matter?" asked Kennedy. "Amateurs interfering with
you?"
The man nodded a reply, shaking his head with the telephone-like
receiver, viciously. He continued to adjust his apparatus.
"Confound it!" he exclaimed. "Yes, that fellow has been jamming
me for the past two days off and on, every time I get ready to
send or receive a message. Williams is going up with a Wright
machine equipped with wireless apparatus in a minute, and this
fellow won't get out of the way. By Jove, though, those are
powerful impulses of his. Hear that crackling? I've never been
interfered with so in my experience.
Pages:
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273