Expressionless
though that terribly mutilated face had to remain, you could sense in
the man's whole attitude the exultation of the expert ace as he beheld
the perfect machine.
The droning of the engines came distinctly to them all, a low, steady,
powerful note, beautiful in its steady undertones of strength. Behind
the little group, a few involuntary exclamations of astonishment and
joy became audible, as some of the Legionaries came into the second
enclosure.
Without, blows on metal sharply resounded. The Master smiled again, as
he realized his orders were going on with exact precision.
"That's the wireless they're putting out of commission," thought he,
glancing at his watch again. "No mere untuning of wave-lengths.
Good, old-fashioned hammer-blows! This station won't work again for a
while!"
Bohannan, meantime, was trying to get some general impression of the
giant plane. Not all the Master's descriptions of it, to him, had
quite prepared him for the reality. Though he well knew all the
largest, biggest machines in the world, this stupendous creation
staggered him. By comparison with the Handley-Page, the Caproni, the
D.H.-4, the Gotha 90-120, the Sikorsky, it spread itself as an eagle
spreads beside a pigeon.
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