At first no effort was made to keep the public from the scene of the activity, but as time went on and things thereabouts took more tangible form, the new flying grounds were carefully fenced in, and a guard from the State National Guard was put on the gateways.  So far only construction men and contractors had been in evidence.  Such few actual army officers as were seen had to do with the preparation of the ground rather than with the Flying Corps itself.  The closing of the grounds woke up the Brighton boys to the possibility of the fact that they might be shut out when flying really commenced.  A council of war immediately ensued.

“A lot of good it will have done us to have watched the thing get this far if, when the machines and the flying men come, we can’t get beyond the gates,” said Harry Corwin.

“I don’t see what is going to get us inside any quicker than any other fellows that want to see the flying,” commented Archie Fox dolefully.

“What we have got to get is some excuse to be in the thing some way,” declared Bob Haines.  “If we could only think of some kind of job we could get inside there—–­some sort of use we could be put to, it would be a start in the right direction.”

Cudgel their brains as they would, they could not see how it was to be done, and they dispersed to think it over and meet on the morrow.

Help came from an unexpected source.  After supper that night Harry Corwin happened to stay at home.  Frequently he spent his evenings with some of the fellows at the Academy, but he had discovered a book which made some interesting comments on warping of aeroplane wings, and he stayed home to get the ideas through his head, so that he might pass them on to the other boys.  Mr. and Mrs. Corwin and Harry’s sister, his senior by a few years, were seated in the living room, each intent on their reading, when the bell rang and the maid soon thereafter ushered in a tall soldier, an officer in the American Army.  The gold leaf on his shoulder proclaimed him a major, and the wings on his collar showed Harry, at least, that he was one of the Flying Corps.

The officer introduced himself as Major Phelps, and said he had promised Will Corwin, in France, that he would call on Will’s folks when he came to supervise the new flying school at Brighton.  Mr. Corwin greeted the major cordially, and after introducing Mrs. Corwin and Harry’s sister Grace, presented Harry, with a remark that sent the blood flying to the boy’s face.

“Here, Major,” said Mr. Corwin, “is one of the Flying Squadron of the Brighton Academy.”

The major was frankly puzzled.  “Have you a school of flying here, then?” he asked as he took Harry’s hand.

“Not yet, sir,” said Harry with some embarrassment.