Adventure, December 1914 — page 40: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

38 good,”’ he remarked, as he examined the dented and battered aluminum case. “But there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with it except what would naturally happen in such an accident as this.” He continued to examine the machine, aided by Sinclair, more nonplussed than ever. ‘The engine is a mass of junk now,” con- tinued Kennedy with great interest. ‘See how the cylinders are bent and twisted. The gasoline-tank is intact but dented out of shape. No, there was no explosion there.” Craig bent down again. There was something at least that interested him. ‘*Look at this little dynamo that ran the gyroscope,” he exclaimed. “Why,” cried Sinclair, looking also, “the wires in it are actually fused together. The insulation has been completely burned off. What do you suppose could have caused that?” Kennedy shook his head and continued to regard the tangled mass thoughtfully for some time. Then he turned to Sinclair as we began slowly to retrace our steps to the house and said— “I wish you’d have that little dynamo preserved.” Sinclair nodded, speechless, scarcely able to realize that his life-work had been so completely destroyed at a time when he was convinced that he had succeeded. None of us spoke until we neared the workshop again for, indeed, there was noth- ing that we could say. Once Kennedy dropped back with Burke and spoke a few words, but it was not about the air-ship, for a moment later he caught up with Sinclair and myself who were plodding along in silence. “IT believe I'll take a run about the harbor this afternoon,” he remarked. ‘“‘I’d like to have a look at the Seaville House.” “You can take my new runabout the Streamline,” replied Sinclair mechanically. @ boat, as fast as an automobile would have been on land. Sinclair had had her built more for pleasure than for racing, and she was a beautiful craft, man- aged much like a racing-car. He drove the boat himself, and it seemed that in his chagrin at the untoward accident of his aeroplane he took pleasure in letting THE Streamline was a three-stepped Adventure the Streamline out just to show what he coulddo. As she started, the purring drone of her eight cylinders sent her feathering over the water like a skipping stone. She sank back into the upturned waves of her own making, her bow leaping upward, a cloud of spray in her wake, curling out like a waterspout on either side. Even if we had not had the excitement of the day to key us up it would have been exhilarating to shoot down the bay in this buzzing, throbbing shape of mahogany and brass, with her exhausts sticking out like funnels and booming like a pipe-organ. “Do you want to stop at the hotel?” asked Sinclair after what seemed could hardly be more than a few seconds. “No,” shouted back Kennedy. vet.” He was seated back of Sinclair, busily engaged with Burke in comparing notes and taking In just how things were situated at Seaville. “There is the cottage where Ruiz stays,” pointed out the detective, indicating a pret- ty little place on the side of the hill, just above the hotel and cut off from it by a clump of trees which had been cleared in front of the cottage and did not obstruct the splendid view down the harbor. Kennedy surveyed the cottage through a glass, as Sinclair rounded the turn at the head of the harbor and started back. He handed the glass to me. I followed his directions. Among the first things that had caught his eye was what looked very much like the primitive inverted V aerial of a wireless tele- graph on the gabled roof. “Is there a wireless-station near by?” asked Kennedy, leaning forward to speak to Sinclair. “Ves,” he called back. ‘“There is the Seaville station. You can see it in a mo- ment when we round this bend in the shore- line.” The Streamline covered space, it seemed to me, almost as rapidly as one could talk, for it was but a moment when we could see, a few miles distant, facing the Sound, the powerful Seaville station, with its tall steel masts of the latest inverted L type. Be- neath we could distinguish a cluster of little houses, including the plant and the living- quarters of the operators. “A wonderful place,’’ went on Sinclair, “one of the best equipped on the coast.” “Not Gomiicovook C@