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Craig painted a brush of electric light over the vague outlines of the Air Trust machine, a steel racer of the latest kind. "A Floriot biplane," said he. "Will hold two and a passenger. Familiar type. I guess all of us, here, can operate it." They all even the women could.
The Floriot rolled easily forward, speeded up, and gathered headway. Gabriel suddenly rotated the rising-plane. The great gull soared, careened and took the air with majestic power. The watchers on the mountain-side saw its hooded lights, that glowed upon its compass and barometric-gauge, slowly spiralling upward, ever upward, as Gabriel climbed with his two passengers.
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