"I was with Monsieur Cheval, Sir, the night he got hurt, and I brought
the machine home, under his direction of course. You ask him if I am
not competent to handle that Bleriot. I'd much rather be in it than in
the big biplane I used last time."
"But - but -- you're too young, too inexperienced, too - too --"
"Now, Sir, please ask Cheval! You know what his judgment is. If I am
to have an observer, let Cheval go. He can sit, and - and observe --"
"Dash your bally impertinence!" Anson was putting up a tremendous
bluff. He knew it, and he knew that Blaine probably knew it, but "What
do you know about Bleriots, anyway?" he asked.
In five minutes by enticing talk and really export fingering of the
various parts of the admirable mechanism, Blaine half convinced his
superior. More, for by adroit manipulation of a certain lock, with
wrench and a pair of tweezers, he readjusted a certain valve hinge in
the petrol tank which he had heard Monsieur Cheval grumbling about
before. This he did with such dexterous rapidity and ease that Anson
expressed approval, adding:
"Where did you pick up so much mechanical knowledge, Blaine?"
"At Mineola, in the States. They kept every applicant in the shops --
some of them for weeks, others permanently."
"How happened it they didn't keep you there?" Anson was grinning now.
"Well, Sir, I wanted to learn to fly -- high.
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