"The first things that they built were kites, and then gliders that were flown as kites. The Wrights were after the secret of the birds' flight, and felt that they could apply it to man's flight. Their next step was the construction of a real glider. But the country around Dayton was not favorable for flying their craft. They wrote to the United States government to find a region that had conditions favorable to their gliding. That is how the obscure Kitty Hawk, North Carolina, came to be the famous place that it is. It happened to have just south of it three hills, Kill Devil Hill, Little Hill, and West Hill. Between the hills was soft drifting sand, that would provide a better landing place than hard earth in case of a spill. The winds were steady and moderate.

"To Kitty Hawk the Wrights went. Here they glided to their heart's content, until they decided that they had learned to control their flights, and were ready to build a plane with power. They went back to Dayton in 1902. They designed and supervised the building of the motor themselves, one that would generate twelve horsepower. Satisfied, they set out once more for Kitty Hawk, with the motor and parts of their plane carefully stowed away.

"They got down there in the early autumn, but found so many difficulties to overcome, that they could not make the first tests until December. In the first place, they discovered that a storm had blown away the building which they had built to work in when they first got to Kitty Hawk. However, everything was at last ready, the weather favorable, and the plane was hauled up Kill Devil Hill, and guided toward the single track of planks that had been laid down the hill.

"Who was going to get the first chance to pilot the plane? Who was going to be the first man to fly? Orville insisted that Wilbur be the one; Wilbur insisted that Orville should be the first. They decided it by flipping a coin. Wilbur won. He got into the plane, unfastened the wire that held the plane to the track, and started down. He ended in a heap at the bottom of the hill, uninjured, but with several parts of the plane damaged.

"The Wrights were nothing daunted. They repaired the plane as quickly as possible, and on December 17, they were ready for the second trial. It was Orville's turn, of course. He unloosened the wire; the plane started down the hill; at the end of a forty-foot run it rose into the air. It kept on going, in a b.u.mpy, irregular course, now swooping up, now diving down, for 120 feet, then darted to earth. The flight had taken in all just twelve seconds, but the Wrights had flown.

"I suppose you've seen pictures of that first plane. It wasn't much more than a box in shape, a biplane, with no c.o.c.kpit at all, just the wings held together by struts, and a seat in the center for the pilot. A man had to be tough to fly one of those planes. The wonder is that any of them escaped with their lives. They had to sit up there exposed to all the elements, and pilot the clumsy planes. And yet they grew into skilful and expert pilots, and could loop the loop and figure eight in them! The Wrights themselves were excellent flyers. This seems only natural, with their natural born gift for mechanics. It was well that they were good flyers, because it was up to them to prove to the world that their craft was safe, and practical.

"It was hard at first. People were skeptical as to whether the Wrights really had a ship that flew. Some of their tests were unsuccessful, and they were laughed to scorn. However, France, who had been more advanced than the United States in the matter of experimentation in flying, became interested in the new flying machine, and sent representatives over to the United States to inspect it. With the French approving of it, the United States became more interested. The government offered a prize of $25,000, for anyone who would build a plane that would travel 40 miles an hour, carry enough fuel and oil to cruise for 125 miles, and fly continuously for at least an hour, with two persons weighing together 350 pounds. The Wrights built such a machine, and the government not only gave them the $25,000, but an additional $5,000 besides.

"In the meanwhile Wilbur Wright had gone to France, where he partic.i.p.ated in many flights, and won the hearts of the French people by staying in the air for an hour and a half. At the end of the year, 1908, he stayed in the air over two hours.

"The Wrights were showing what they could do. Flying became the rage.

Society took it up, and traveled to the Wrights to see their planes. But the Wrights, no more impressed by this than they were by anything else, kept right on working. They were financed by a group of able financiers in the United States, and founded the Wright Aeroplane Company for the manufacture of planes, and they were content.

"After 1909, their point proved, the Wrights did very little flying.

They spent their time in engineering problems, making improvements on the planes that they were designing and manufacturing.

"They did some more experimenting with gliders, but this was in order to perfect the art of soaring.

"In May, 1912, Wilbur Wright died, and broke up the famous partnership that had existed for so many years. Since his death his brother has lived quietly. He has not flown, and has acted as advisor to his company as they turn out more and more modern planes. He is one man who has lived to see a thing that he started himself grow into a blessing to mankind. And if the airplane isn't that, I'd like to know what is."

"I think so," said Bob.

"Who are you to think so?" asked Bill, sitting up very suddenly.

Bob was non-plussed for a moment, but then saw that his uncle was joking, and laughed. They were interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell.

"Well," said the Captain, "who could be out in weather like this?"

They heard the front door open, voices, and then the closing of the door. In a short while the footsteps of Mrs. Martin sounded on the steps, and she entered the library.

"A telegram for you, Bill," she said, and handed it to him. "My, you three look cozy up here. I suppose you've been yarning, haven't you?"

She gave her brother a playful poke.

Captain Bill, who had risen when his sister came in, offered his chair before he opened the telegram. "Join us, won't you, Sis?"

His sister laughed. "I really can't go before I see what is in the telegram," she said. "Of course, I suppose I should be polite and pretend not to be interested in it, but I am. We all are, aren't we, boys?"

Bob and Hal grinned.

"Well, then," said Bill, "I guess I'll have to see what's in it." He opened the telegram, and glanced hurriedly over it. "Pat's landing tomorrow," he said. "He wants us to be out at the airport to see the _Marianne_ come in."

"Hurray!" shouted Bob, and went into a war dance.

His mother looked at him tolerantly. She was used to Bob's antics. "What time is Pat coming in?" she asked.

"He didn't say. In fact, that's all he didn't say in this telegram. But I guess he'll start out about dawn and get here around noon. Anyway, we'll be going down to the airport tomorrow morning to look around.

We'll stay there until that Irishman rolls in."

"What will you do about lunch?" asked the practical Mrs. Martin.

"Why, we'll eat at the airport restaurant," said Bill. "Don't worry about us, Sis."

Mrs. Martin looked dubious. She glanced at Hal. She knew that Hal's mother liked to supervise her son's meals, and did not care to have him eat at strange places. Mrs. Martin felt that it would be a shame to spoil the expedition for such a trivial reason, so she said, "I have an idea. I'll pack a lunch for all of you tonight, and you can take it with you tomorrow. How will that be? You can eat it anyplace around the airport. It'll be a regular picnic. There are some nice places around the port that you can go to. How about that?"

Bob answered for them. "That will be great. Gee, Bill, do you remember the picnic baskets that Mom can pack? We're in luck."

"Do I remember?" said Bill. "How could I forget? You fellows had better be up pretty early tomorrow."

"You bet we will, Captain," said Bob.

Then Hal said, "I guess I'd better be going. My mother will be wondering if I'm never coming home. I hope that I can come with you tomorrow."

"Hope you can come with us? Why, of course you're coming with us. We won't go without you," Captain Bill said explosively.

"I'll see," said Hal. "I'll ask Mother. Maybe she'll let me go. But anyway, I'll let you know. I'll put up the flags in the workshop window.

All right?"

"Sure," said Bob, and walked out with Hal. He saw the boy to the door, and warned him again to be sure to come.

When the two boys had left the room, Captain Bill turned to his sister.

"Say," he said, "do you think that Hal's mother really won't let him come, or is the boy looking for a way out?"

"Why, what do you mean?" asked Mrs. Martin.

"Just this," said Bill, and puffed vigorously on his pipe. "I've been watching the boy, and I think that he's afraid."

"Afraid of what?"

"Afraid of actually going up in an airplane. I feel that a change has come over him since there has been an actual chance of his learning to fly," explained the Captain.

His sister looked pensive. "But he's always been so interested in flying. That's all the two of them ever talk about."

"Perhaps. When there was no immediate chance of his going up in a plane.

Now that there is, I think he'd like to back out."

"There is his mother to consider, of course," said Mrs. Martin. "She would undoubtedly object very strenuously if he merely went to the airport. You must remember that he's all she has. She's always so careful of him."

The Captain snorted. "Too careful," he said. "She's made the boy a bundle of fears. Bob has helped him get over some of them, but I think that they're cropping out now. It will be very bad for Hal if he funks this. I think that it will hurt him a great deal. If he succeeds in overcoming his fears now for once and for all, if he learns to go up in a plane, even if he may never fly one himself, he will be a new boy.

He'll never be afraid again. But one let-down now, and he will be set way back-even further back than when Bob first met him."

"I think you're right, Bill," said his sister. "But what are we going to do about it?"

The Captain shrugged his shoulders. "I think the best thing to do with the boy is not to let him know that we know he's afraid. Treat him just as if he were the bravest lad in the world. I'll take care of that. But I can't take care of his mother. I never was a lady's man," smiled Captain Bill. "You'll have to attend to that."