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 a minute, I estimated, and the drift of the sky favored us as I could witness from the smoke of steamers as we swept out to sea. It was not yet twenty minutes since we had risen from the lake in the hills and we were over the ocean in force, commanding the sky and the water with power to work whatever we wished.

Because the machines in my immediate squadron flew in four pairs, I supposed that the four subordinates of the luncheon table on the terrace were the pilots—Boggs and Donley, Mendell and Kinvarra. Bane was not in this formation, I believed. I was sure, at least, that he was not piloting me; for the impulses which swung me to right or left and increased or decreased the speed of my engine, to keep me in position, reached me in manner unlike yesterday. Another hand held me. Other hands held Pete and the two effigies in the other radio-controlled machines. The dawn was displaying them to me.

In front of me flew, first, a monoplane with a dummy in the pilot's pit; behind it flew Boggs, I believed. On my right flew another