In a cavernous armory in Manhattan, two days last week, a hundred-odd boys of high-school age moved quietly about the floor, some carrying tiny, fragile model airplanes, others standing with heads thrown back, gaping anxiously at the roof. Up under the lofty girders, slowly and silently circled little gossamer shapes. At intervals an announcer boomed a number through a megaphone. The only other noise in the hall was an incessant metallic undertone like the sound of a score of egg-beaters. This came from a number of gadgets not unlike egg-beaters in the...
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