The three in the monoplane caught a fleeting glimpse of Harry as they sped past. The Neptune was off, headed for Plymouth, England, on the first leg of its long and adventurous trip into the Arctic.
The return flight to Bellevue was uneventful and the monoplane settled down beside the Goliath’s hangar shortly after noon. Andy taxied the plane up to the apron and they piled out and hurried into the main hangar to see what progress had been made on the Goliath since their departure.
Even in the short time they had been away the crews had put on the finishing touches. The great silver hull gleamed in the softened light of the hangar. The main gondola had been completed, the observation cockpits on top of the big bag were in place and hundreds of helium tanks were piled along the walls of the hangar—empty. That meant that the gas cells had been filled with the precious gas. The Goliath was almost ready to take the air.
Charles High and Captain Harkins hurried up to them.
“How does the Goliath look today?” Andy’s father asked.
“Wonderful, Dad, simply wonderful,” replied Andy. “When will you make the first test?”
“We may walk it out of the hangar tomorrow but we won’t make a real flight for several days,” replied the vice president in charge of operations for the National Airways. “The army has a finger in the pie and when we actually take the air several members of the general staff and a dozen air corps experts will want to be aboard to see if it behaves to specifications.”
“I’m sure it will,” put in Blatz. “I’ve seen a good many of Doctor Eckener’s ships at Friedrichshafen and with all due respect to the Herr Doctor, the Goliath is the finest, most carefully designed and built aircraft I have ever seen.”
“That’s a real compliment,” chuckled Bert. “It isn’t very often a European will concede superiority to an American in anything.”
“Blatz is right,” said Captain Harkins quietly. “There is no question about the Goliath being the finest airship ever built. I expect it to live up to our every hope in its performance in the air.”
“We were surprised when Gilbert Mathews informed Harry of the advance in sailing plans,” Andy told his father.
“I was a trifle surprised, too,” admitted the vice president of National Airways. “Mathews wired me the same day of the change in plans and I replied that the Goliath would be able to advance its air tests and keep the date to meet him at the pole even with the earlier sailing. I can’t blame him, though, for wanting to take advantage of the favorable ice conditions which are reported in the north now.”