CHAPTER II IN THE OFFICES OF THE NEW YORK HERALD
The managing editor of the New York _Herald_ received the engraved visiting cards of Alan Hope and Ned Napier with mingled pleasure and surprise.
“The Airship Boys! Send them right in,” said he to the young woman who had announced them from the outer office. Then the great newspaper man turned with an apologetic smile to the gentleman who still stood, hat in hand, beside his desk, as he had been about to leave just before the boys’ cards were brought in.
“Please excuse me, Mr. Geisthorn, for seeming to hurry you away in this manner, but I believe our little interview was about terminated anyway.”
“Yes, it is so,” replied the other, speaking with a strong German accent. “It is not for me yet to take too much of your precious time. As I have before said, I am myself a journalist, and know the value of even a minute’s time.”
The editor of the _Herald_ arose to shake hands in parting with his visitor. At the door the latter turned, hesitated momentarily, and then said:
“My excuses again, mein herr, but what was it that you called these gentlemen? The Aeroplane Children? What is that?”
The managing editor permitted a smile to edge his lips as he turned and pointed to a framed front page of the _Herald_, dated over two years ago. It was double headlined in heavy, black-letter type, and profusely illustrated with photographs of the coronation of King George V of England.
“I called them the Airship Boys,” said the editor. “That is a title they have won as a result of their astounding feats and innovations in aerial navigation. The page of the _Herald_ which you see there on the wall represents a bit of newspaper history as well as the beginning of a new epoch in aeronautics. Those two young men, Ned Napier and Alan Hope, two years ago last June accomplished a flight from London to New York in twelve hours, bringing back with them photographs of the coronation ceremonies, and enabling us to publish them nearly a week earlier than any other American newspaper.”
“London to New York in _twelve hours_! Impossible!” ejaculated the visitor, gaping at the picture.
“I don’t wonder at your surprise,” responded the managing editor, “but that’s exactly what they accomplished in their _Ocean Flyer_--the largest and highest-powered aircraft ever devised--a vessel capable of carrying six or seven passengers at a consistent velocity of two hundred miles and more per hour; an airship which can be easily operated at a height of eight or ten miles, where the driver of any other machine would either freeze to death or die from lack of oxygen.”