The Graveyard of the Flying Machines Part III

Morgan thought, sight unseen, that the other prop would still be good, assuming the trainsmen and ballonsmen had protected it in it’s travels. It was the boiler that had blown, so no hope of salvaging that, but he thought that, depending on which way the explosion went, the pistons, valves and flywheels might be still usable. But only to older models of airships, like this old iron giant before him. The new models had multiple expansion engines, so the parts would be useless to them.

The oxen went another few feet, and when they stopped one of them took the opportunity to spray a stream of urine that could have been used to put out a small house fire. Johnson got hit and jumped back, cursing. Reynolds and Payne nearly hit the dirt laughing.

Morgan guessed that they would have the ship in the strip bay by noon. He would let the others take a long lunch and a short nap, while he got to work for a bit in silence.

Then we’ll see, he thought. Then we’ll see what you got to offer, ya old iron bird.

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