"Well, off at last, Jack," said Raynor, entwining Jack's elbow in his own as the two leaned, side by side, on the railing, bidding good-bye to New York's wonderful skyscraper skyline as it slid past. "How does it feel to be a passenger?"
Jack's eyes sought the lofty wireless aerials swung far above them between the two masts.
"It feels mighty odd to think of somebody else sending out the T. R." he said slowly, naming the wireless method of saying "Good-bye," on sailing.
"Well, I never saw such a fellow!" exclaimed Raynor. "For goodness' sake forget your everlasting coherers and keys and converters and the rest of them and enjoy taking life easy. But--hullo!" he broke off, "there's someone we know."
Approaching them was a dapper little man, with a neat black moustache and dressed in a careful, almost dignified manner.
"Why, it's Raymond de Garros, that French aviator we saved from the sea off Florida when we were on the old _Tropic Queen_!" exclaimed Jack.
"That's the man. But what in the world is he doing here? I thought he was in France organizing an aeroplane corps for the army."
"So did I. The newspapers have had several despatches about his work. But we shall soon find out about the reason for his being on board."
A minute later they were warmly shaking hands with the little Frenchman, who, with many gesticulations and twirlings of his moustache, assured them how glad he was to "greet zee two brave boys zat save my life from zee sea."
"You're the last person we expected to see," said Jack, when first greetings were over. "We didn't even know you were in America."
The little Frenchman shrugged his shoulders and looked about him uneasily. Then he buttonholed the boys confidentially.
"No one know zat I am here but my government," he said in low tones.
"You are on a secret mission of some kind?" asked Jack.
"Can I trust you to keep somethings to yourselves if I tell you what I am do in Amerique?" asked the aviator.
"Of course, but if you don't wish---- I didn't mean to appear inquisitive," Jack hastened to say.
"Zat is all right, my friend!" exclaimed de Garros. "You save my life. I should be ungrateful if I seemed secretive wiz you. I have been in Amerique buying and shipping aeroplanes to France from one of your manufacturers."