if he were prepared to have them say their worst. They seemed between
the impulse of reprimanding and embracing him.

"I hope that you are not surprised at the result," said the oldest of
the officers, a man of late middle age, rather affectionately and
teasingly. He wore a single order on his breast, a plain iron cross, and
the insignia of his rank was that of a field-marshal.

"Not now. I should be again, sir," said Lanstron, looking full at the
field-marshal in the appeal of one asking for another chance. "I was
wool-gathering. My mind was off duty for a second and I got a lesson in
self-control at the expense of the machine. I treated it worse than it
deserved, and it treated me better than I deserved. But I shall not
wool-gather next time. I've got a reminder more urgent than a string
tied around my finger."

"Yes, that hand needs immediate attention," said the doctor. He and
another officer began helping Lanstron into the automobile.

"The first flight ever made over a range--even a low one! Thirty miles
straightaway!" remarked the civilian, making a cursory examination of
the wreck of the machine which was a pattern known by his name.

"Very educational for our young man," said the field-marshal, and at
sight of Mrs. Galland paused while they exchanged the greetings of old
friends.

"Your Excellency, may we send back for you, sir?" called the doctor. He
was not one to let rank awe him when duty pressed. "This hand ought to
be at the hospital at once."