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Wilbur Wright sat glumly in the stern of a small, wooden dinghy watching with growing trepidation the ever-increasing amount of oily water sloshing between the ribs of the tiny craft. A thin man, lean and lanky with a square-set jaw and a penetrating gaze, Wilbur looked up from the liquid that had now soaked his shoes and peered grimly at the grizzled older man pulling on the oars. Despite the slowly increasing water level inside the boat, its disheveled commander, a certain Captain Perry, grinned unconcernedly at his anxious passenger. Wilbur, not reassured by Perry's happy-go-lucky demeanor, looked again at his sopping wet shoes before asking Perry if he was sure the ...