But Father knows as much as any one not an expert in
aeronautics can know. When the Government wouldn't believe
in Harman, Father financed him by my advice. I left home for
France before the trial machine that was to convince officialdom
had come into being; and I didn't even know whether it had
made good. But the minute I saw what lay on the ground,
surrounded by a ring of Germans, I said to myself; 'Good old
Leroy!'
"I'd seen so much of his plans that they remained printed on
my brain, and I could--if I would--set that biplane on its wings
again almost as easily as if I _had_ invented it.
"Odd that the Bosches and I both trusted Herter, seeing he
must be false to one side or other! But he's that sort of man.
And I always take a tip from my own instinct before listening to
my reason. Maybe that's why I didn't do badly in my brief
career as a flier. Anyhow, I played up to Herter; and I got the
job of superintending the reconstruction of poor Harman's
damaged machine. It was a lovely job for a prisoner, though
they watched me as a German cat would watch an Allied mouse.
Herter was nearly always on the spot, however, for he'd made
himself responsible for me. Also, he'd offered to pump me about
what was best in the air world on my side of the water: how
many aeroplanes of different sorts America could turn out in
six months, etc. We contrived a cypher on diagrams I made.
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