AROUND THE WORLD IN TEN DAYS by CHELSEA CURTIS FRASER Author of "Work-a-Day Heroes, " "Secrets of the Earth, ""Boys' Book of Battles, " "Boys' Book of Sea Fights, ""The Young Citizens Own Book, " etc. The World Publishing CompanyCleveland, Ohio ------ New York City Copyright, MCMXXII, ByThe World Syndicate Publishing CompanyPrinted in the United States of America PREFACE In the infancy of aviation, the early 1920's, no one dreamed that the close of the decadewould see it firmly and permanentlyestablished--a leader among the nation's industries. Heavier-than-air flight is perhaps the mostamazing contribution of the 20th century. It is easy to thrill to the seeming marvels ofour own times, but only the short-sighted thinkerbelieves in the perfection of present scientificprogress. The 300-mile-an-hour airplane whichFraser conceived in this book for the speed ofthe Sky-Bird II was little more than so manywords when he wrote it. . . . Today we have400-mile-an-hour fighting planes. Today we havein this country an intricate highway system, butperhaps within your own lifetime our highways, and the automobiles which skim over them, willbe laughed at as obsolete and useless. Thus it is that "the seemingly impossible ofthe fiction of today becomes outdone by the factsof tomorrow, " as the author aptly phrased it. In 1920 the idea of going around the world inten days was as preposterous as that projectedby Jules Verne in 1873 when he wrote _Aroundthe World in Eighty Days_. But time has a wayof hurling ridicule back as effectively as aboomerang. For we have seen and marvelled at theshattering not only of the mythical eighty-dayrecord but even the ten-day record, as progresswends its ceaseless, ambitious, difficult andalmost fantastic way through the years. And so it will be gratifying and, no doubt, amazing to many to read this book and realizethe advancement made in aviation since this storywas written by Mr. Fraser, and how many of theideas he prophesied for airplane advancementthat have materialized in less than a score of years. Around-the-world flyers, even the most recent, have all flown more or less northerly routes, notfollowing the equatorial belt, which is, as we allknow, the earth's greatest circumference. It isthis course that our four young heroes take inSky-Bird II, a plane designed and constructedby themselves, containing many features thataeronautics now takes for granted, and some notyet realized, which are, nevertheless, "within thescope of mechanical science, " as Fraser says. So, it is our opinion, young readers, that inaddition to enjoying an exciting story, you willbenefit by carefully reading the technicalpassages, and in doing so, learn to observe yourpresent-day surroundings with a greaterperspective--thus adding infinitely greater interestto your view of the world today! THE PUBLISHERS. CONTENTS CHAPTER I PAUL AND BOB II THE BROTHERS' INVENTION III THE SUCCESSFUL MODEL IV PLANNING A BIG AIRPLANE V AN AIR RACE FINISH AND A CHALLENGE VI THE MISSING BLUE-PRINTS VII WHO'S AT THE WINDOW? VIII THE SKY-BIRD II IX THE TEST FLIGHT X FINAL PREPARATIONS XI OFF FOR PANAMA XII FIGHTING A DEVIL-FISH XIII THE STRANGE AIRPLANE XIV A FAMILIAR FACE XV THE START XVI TRICKED BY RIVALS XVII ACROSS THE ATLANTIC XVIII AN IRRITATING DELAY XIX SAVED BY THE SEARCHLIGHT XX A JUNGLE ADVENTURE XXI THE DOUBLE LOOP XXII ABOVE THE CLOUDS XXIII BOMBED BY ROCKS XXIV RIDING AN AIRPLANE'S TAIL XXV ENGULFED IN A VOLCANO'S DUST XXVI IN AUSTRALIA XXVII PAUL VERSUS PETE XXVIII A MIX-UP IN DATES XXIX A FLYING RESCUE XXX AN ALARMING DISCOVERY XXXI THE FINISH Around the World in Ten Days CHAPTER I PAUL AND BOB "Did you say this big Air Derby around the world takes place thiscoming summer, Bob?" "So dad told me at the breakfast table this morning, Paul. The planshave just been completed. He said full details would be in to-day'spapers. " "And the afternoon edition is out now, for there's a newsie just aheadof us who is calling out the _Daily Independent_. That's your father'snewspaper, too. " "It will be in there sure pop, Paul. " "Then I'm going to get a copy right now. " The two youths, who but a few moments before had come out of the broaddoors of the Clark Polytechnic Institute along with a noisy throng ofother students, paused when they reached the newsboy in question, andthe taller of the pair bought a newspaper which he shoved into an innerpocket of his raincoat. "We'll look at this in the car on our way home; a fellow can't do anyreading in a storm like this, " said the purchaser. "Let's hurry up abit, Bob; I'm so eager to see what it says about that Derby that I canhardly wait to get to the station. Say, just think of it--a racearound the world by air! Won't that be great?" "I'll say so, Paul old boy! They ought to smash all existing records. You know that a man named Mears made the circuit in thirty-five daysabout seven years ago, and he had to depend on slow steam trains andsteamships, aided by a naphtha-launch. " "That's true, Bob. Now that we have planes we ought to do a lotbetter. But the big oceans are the trouble for aircraft. The Atlantichas been crossed by Alcock and Brown in a Vimy-Vickers biplane, andalso by our NC-4 flying-boat under the command of Lieutenant Read, andby the big English dirigible R-34; but the Pacific, with its greaterbreadth, has seemed so impossible that it has never been attempted. " "Why should it seem impossible?" "Because they can't carry sufficient gasoline to cross the Pacific. " "But how about the islands?" "The majority are not level enough to permit a landing, and others aretoo widely scattered. I have made quite a study of transoceanic flightsince Harry Hawker and his partner, Grieve, made their unsuccessfulattempt last spring to cross the Atlantic in a Sopwith machine, and formy part I can't see how this proposed Derby around the world can all bedone by air, when no machine has ever yet been able to hop the Pacific. " "Well, Paul, we'll soon be at the station out of this storm, and thenwe can see what the paper says about it, " was the philosophicalconclusion of his companion. With that they hurried on down the street, bowing their heads to wardoff the sharp sleet as much as possible, while they gripped theirschool-books under their arms. They were a splendid-looking pair ofyoung Americans, probably about eighteen years old, and the manner inwhich they swung along through the disagreeable drizzle, paying scantattention to it as they laughed and talked, showed them to be full ofthat boundless energy and gaiety of spirits which only perfect healthand participation in athletics can bestow. As Paul Ross and Robert Giddings approached the next corner, a youngman with umbrella held low in front of him hurried around it and raninto a small Italian girl who was carrying a basket of fruit. She wasstaggered by the collision; her basket was knocked from her arm, andthe oranges began to roll in every direction. The child broke intotears, but the cause of her misfortune only paused long enough to sayangrily, "Confound you, you careless little beggar! Why don't youwatch where you are going?" and hurried on his way. "Say, Paul, did you see the way that swarthy-faced chap used thatlittle girl?" cried Bob indignantly. "I certainly did, " was the no less indignant answer. "That lazy dogought to be horse-whipped. Let's help the child. " Both boys fell to work with a will, rescued the escaping oranges, andtucked them back in their owner's basket. Then, with her gratefulthanks ringing in their ears, they hurried on once more. After they had gone a few steps, Paul Ross observed: "Bob, I've seen that fellow before. That was Pete Deveaux. He used tobe an Air Mail pilot on the same run as my brother John, but wasdischarged for drunkenness. Since that he has blamed John, and haswritten him several threatening letters, but is too cowardly to facehim. " By this time they had reached the West 137th Street station of thesuburban railroad which runs between the metropolis and various shoretowns along the picturesque Hudson. They were just in time to catch atrain, and found a comfortable seat in a rear coach. Then Paul broughtforth the newspaper he had purchased. What they sought was found onthe very first page, prominently displayed under a black-faced heading. "Read it aloud, Paul, " suggested Bob, and his friend proceeded to doso. The article was to the effect that the Aero Club of America, inconjunction with eminent aviation associations of the kind in Europeand Asia, had planned to stimulate interest in flying by holding anaircraft race around the world, which would start on the morning ofJuly 4th. All contestants must be at least twenty-one years of age, and furnish an entrance fee of two hundred dollars. They might use anytype of aircraft they chose, and could carry as many assistants as theywished, even utilizing trains or steamships, if not less thanthree-fourths of their journey were made by air; and they must stop atleast once in each of four continents, and cross the Atlantic andPacific oceans. Aside from these provisions, the selection of routewas left entirely to each contestant. Then followed an imposing listof names of well-known flyers who, it was said, had signified theirintention of competing. The article wound up with the statement thatprizes aggregating a million dollars would be offered the winners. "One million dollars!" exclaimed Bob Giddings. "Paul, old man, you'dbetter go in for this!" Paul Ross's eyes sparkled, but the next moment he laughed and shook hishead. "I surely would like to, " said he, "but there are just threelittle things in the way of it. " "I suppose you need a machine for one thing?" "Yes--and you must admit that's a good-sized item. Second, I need twohundred dollars to enter--something I don't happen to have, andsomething I know mother can't spare in such a hazard. Third, I needthree years added to my age in order to be eligible. " "It does look rather hopeless for you, that's a fact, " admitted Bob. "That second handicap might be overcome with my father's help, but theother two are real obstacles. " "It's mighty nice of you and your father, Bob, to wish to help me outin this fashion, " said Paul; "but, as you state, the other drawbackscannot be swept aside so easily. Perhaps later on, another 'round theworld Air Derby will be pulled off, and I shall have a chance to enterit. " "Well, if you do, don't forget to count me in as an assistant, "declared his friend. "Nothing would please me better than to make atrip like that with you, Paul. " "You certainly shall be welcome if the time ever comes. By the way, Bob, John and I have designed a new type of monoplane in our sparetime, and for the past two months I have been busy making a three-footmodel of this. I hope to finish it in a day or two, and I want you togo with me over to the old fair-grounds next Saturday afternoon andgive it a test flight, if you will. " Bob Giddings was all interest at once, and plied his friend with manyquestions concerning his new model, many others of which he had intimes past helped Paul fly with the keenest delight. The truth is, Paul Ross and his brother John, the latter a pilot in the governmentAir Mail service, were known all over the State of New York as makersof the best-flying model airplanes to be found anywhere. Ever sincethey were small boys in grammar school, the brothers had beenconstructing miniature monoplanes, biplanes, and seaplanes, which theyhad pitted against the best product of other lads in the neighborhoodand surrounding towns, without once meeting defeat. Many of thesespecimens of youthful ingenuity they still preserved, suspended inbedroom and attic, where they were a never-ending source of interest tovisitors at the Ross homestead in the outskirts of Yonkers. The war had called John into the aviation service of his country, butPaul had still continued his experiments in making tiny airplanes, getting his friend Robert Giddings, who lived in a fine house onShadynook Hill, to assist him in the flying. Thrown together by theirmutual love for mechanics, and being in the same classes all throughhigh-school, Paul and Bob had formed a strong attachment for eachother, although the latter's home was far more pretentious than theformer's, since Paul's mother was a widow in only moderatelycomfortable circumstances, while Bob's father was the editor and ownerof the _Daily Independent_, one of the leading evening newspapers ofNew York City. When John returned from the war it was with an incurable passion forflying, and within a few months he had re-entered the service of hiscountry in the peaceful but dangerous work of carrying Uncle Sam'smails between Washington and New York in a big Martin bomber. He foundthat his younger brother's love for aviation had also developed, aswell as his skill in constructing and flying model airplanes. Some ofthese recent ones were so novel in design and of such wonderfullyingenious workmanship, that John, who had won unusual honors as anaviator on the French front, was quite thunderstruck, and determined toencourage Paul's talents in this line in every way he could. Therefore, when the boy graduated from the Yonkers high school, andexpressed a wish to take up a special course in aeronauticalengineering at Clark Polytechnic Institute, John backed him up, and themother, who would have preferred a less hazardous profession for heryounger son, sighingly consented. Paul's chum, Robert Giddings, had also gone to Clark Polytechnic uponleaving high school, his ambition being to become an electricalengineer. Thus both boys continued to be thrown in daily contact. Itwas their habit to go into the city to school each morning in the sedanwith Mr. Giddings; but as he left the city late in the afternoon theyusually took the train back. As the friends now parted, Bob Giddings' last words were: "Don't forgetto get that new model airplane done by Saturday, Paul. I'm crazy tosee it. " "I'll be ready for you, " was Paul's assurance; "but remember to keepthis under your hat. It's to be a secret test, you know. " "Trust me, " said Bob. CHAPTER II THE BROTHERS' INVENTION When Paul Ross reached home that afternoon, it was to find someonethere whom he had not expected to see. A tall, broad-shouldered youngman, with a bronzed face and pleasant blue eyes, sat in theliving-room, talking to his mother. Paul rushed forward and joyfully grasped his brown hand. "Why, John!"he exclaimed, "I didn't expect to find you here!" "Of course you didn't, Buddy, " was the smiling response of the youngman, who was wont to call his younger brother by this affectionatewar-mate term. "The fact is, as I was just telling mother, two daysago I didn't know myself that I would be anywhere at this hour exceptspeeding through the air between New York and Washington on my usualmail run in my trusty old Martin-bird. As it is, Buddy, it looks nowas if neither you nor I would ever handle her controls again. " Therewas a note of sadness in John's voice as he said this. "Why, what's the matter, John?" asked Paul quickly. "It's this way, lad: You know I told you and mother a couple of weeksago, when I was here on my last regular lay-over, that Congress wastalking about cutting a big slice out of the Air Mail appropriation, inorder to reduce expenses. Well, the upshot of it all is, they made thecut, and not having enough money to carry on the service as it hasbeen, the head of the Air Mail has ordered the abandonment of allflying divisions except the main line between New York and SanFrancisco. Only those pilots will be kept. So that's why I am here. " "Won't they take you on again soon, John?" asked Mrs. Ross. "I fear not, mother, " replied her elder son, shaking his head soberly. "Our field-superintendent did say that he would give me the firstopening in the transcontinental line, since my records lead the bunch, and he even offered to displace one of the boys on that route and putme in his place, but--" "But you refused, " interrupted Paul, with conclusive pride in his bigbrother. John grinned. "Well, put it that way if you like, Buddy, " said he;"anyhow, as I said before, here I am. Some chap may quit or 'goWest'--you know a round dozen of the poor chaps have been killed in thelast year--and that may let me back in again. But I won't wait for it;I'll get after some of the commercial flying companies next week andsee if I can't land a berth with them. I simply can't think of workingon the ground. I guess I should have been born a bird, mother, insteadof a human being, I love flying so much. " "I really believe you would be safer if you were a bird, John, "asserted Mrs. Ross, with an uneasy smile. "Birds have no motors tofail them, no fire to ignite and burn them up, as our presentairplanes. How many of your own unfortunate associates can lay theiruntimely deaths to either one of these causes! It was only the lasttime you were here that you were telling Paul and me about the terriblefall Howard Smith had because his motor stopped, and how his machineignited, and how he was burned past recognition. " "I know, " said the veteran airman; "those things will happen at times, mother, even with the most careful fellows. The time will come, Ithink, and very soon, when stalled motors can be restarted in the air, and when accidentally ignited fuel will burn itself out with no harm toeither the machine or its occupants. The fact is, Paul and I have someideas now as to how to overcome those very troubles, along with otherimprovements, and the first chance we get we are going to build anairplane along these lines and put it to the test, aren't we, Buddy?" "We surely are, " was Paul's enthusiastic response. "One of these finedays, mother, when we get our patents and sell them, you shall live inas fine a home as the Giddings's over on Shadynook Hill, and when youwish to go into the city to do any shopping, John or I will take you ina beautiful sedan airplane which will be safer than an automobile, andwhich will be guaranteed not to raise a dust or wear out tires. " Mrs. Ross laughed heartily at the glowing picture her second son haddrawn, more because he spoke with such seriousness, and because Johntoo wore a matter-of-fact look during the prophecy. "Oh, I have some great dreamers here in this little family, " she said, as she arose to resume her household duties. "We will hope that someof your dreams come true. " Her sons laughed good-naturedly; then Paul turned to his brother. "Come on down in the basement, John, " he said; "I wish to show you ourlatest miniature model, the Sky-Bird. Another day's work ought tofinish it. " John followed him downstairs. In one corner of the large basement wasa good-sized workbench, lighted by two windows, and equipped withseveral neatly-arranged shelves, which now held a divers collection ofchisels, bits, countersinks, etc. In a splendid oak cabinet attachedto the wall above was a more extensive array of wood- and metal-workingtools, some of which the brothers had bought with money earned at oddjobs when they were still small boys. Since, they had added to theirset from time to time, as they needed this tool or that, until now fewprofessional mechanics could boast of a finer assortment. Suspended from a hook directly over the bench was a beautiful six-footmodel of a racy-looking monoplane of peculiar and striking design. Itwas glistening in several coats of spar-varnish, and so light anddelicate was its spidery frame that, as John reached out to take it inhis hand, the exhalation of his breath set it swaying away from him. "My word, it's a light boy all right!" exclaimed John admiringly, as hecarefully took hold of the pretty thing. "That's just the featurewe've tried to get, too, Buddy, --lightness. " He looked closely at thelong, graceful pair of wings, which were of an unusual thickness and aslight upward thrust like those of a bird, and which widened batlike asthey ran back and joined the rear fuselage or body of the craft. "Haveyou put the helium-gas in these wings yet, Paul, as we planned? I seeyou have installed the valves. There's a valve in the after-fuselage, too. " "The wings and fuselage are both filled, " said Paul; "that is whatmakes the Sky-Bird so light. If you had brought more helium the lasttime you were here, I could have pumped in twice the quantity, I think, and that would have made her so light she would rise of her own accord, I really believe. As it is, she now weighs less than a half-ounce. Ihad the scales on her yesterday. " John shared his brother's enthusiasm. "Fine!" he cried, with sparklingeyes. "Why, that's almost a neutral condition, as she is! Buddy, ifwe can apply this principle to a full-size machine--and I don't knowwhy we can't--we shall have solved the biggest problem facing airplanedesigners to-day. With a machine weighing only a trifle more than herload of fuel and baggage, she will not only fly a lot faster but go alot farther, with a given supply of fuel, than the present-day planes. And what is more, she could attain good speed with a single engine ofreasonable power, where now many machines are handicapped with theburdensome weight of an extra power-plant. When will she be ready totest out?" "I had planned to give her a trial in the old fair-grounds Saturdayafternoon, " said Paul. "I've asked Bob Giddings to go along. " "That's all right; Bob is a fine lad, " said John; "but since you haveset the trial for Saturday afternoon, and Bob's father is usually athome at that time, why don't you ask him to view the affair also? I'msure he would enjoy it. He's a great sportsman, you know, like mostnewspaper men, and considerably interested in aeronautics. " "I had not thought of it; I'll do it, " was the prompt response of Paul. "But we must warn him to silence, John. Whatever happens, we don'twish this to get into the _Daily Independent_. " "I'd say not, " rejoined the former Air Mail pilot sententiously. "Mum's the word; we've got something here, Buddy. Unless I'm greatlymistaken we'll be consulting with the Patent Office at Washington muchsooner than little mother anticipates. " He poked Paul in the ribs ashe spoke, and both young men gave vent to a low chuckle of intensesatisfaction. It was an even greater pleasure to look forward tosurprising their mother than to astonishing the world and winning itsplaudits. As good an airplane mechanic and flyer as John Ross was, his youngerbrother was little behind him in the matter of skill in handling amodern machine. It had been John's habit to return to Yonkers everytwo weeks for a week's lay-off, as customary with other pilots in theAir Mail service. On these occasions he had arrived in his plane, andduring the term of his stay had often taken Paul up into the air forpleasure flights, as well as his chum Bob Giddings. Both boys werekeen students, and it was not long before John could trust them tooperate his big Martin with every confidence. Once, indeed, he andPaul had been caught over Long Island Sound in a bad storm, when thelatter was in the pilot's seat, but Paul had brought the craft throughlike a veteran, winning his brother's unstinted praise and undyingrespect. CHAPTER III A SUCCESSFUL MODEL Mr. Giddings was glad to accept the invitation to the trial flight. Heand his son met the Ross boys at the old race-course Saturdayafternoon. This immense, level field, with its one-mile oval and greatempty sheds, at one time had been the county's boasted fair-grounds, but two years prior to the opening of our story it had been sold to Mr. Giddings, whose residence property stretched down the side of ShadynookHill and joined it. New fair-grounds had then been established inanother and more centrally located section of the district. In the oldgrounds the boys of the neighborhood now went to fly their kites andmodel airplanes, to hold impromptu bicycle and foot races, and to playtag and hide-and-go-seek in the cavernous sheds and around the numeroussagging stables. It was late in the afternoon--just before dusk, when the winds would beat their quietest, and others not likely to be present--that ourfriends arrived at the field. There was not a soul to be seen. Paul, who had carried his precious Sky-Bird, freed it from the wrapper andheld it up for Mr. Giddings to see. The night before he and John hadput the finishing touches to the delicate structure by adding anothercoat of varnish and attaching the little rubber-tired aluminum wheelsto the axle. As Paul now held it up before the gaze of the great newspaper man, Mr. Giddings made no effort to restrain his admiration. "What a littlebeauty!" he cried. "Why, it's almost a perfect mechanicalrepresentation of a bird!" "Isn't she a dandy, dad?" put in Bob, his eyes snapping. "The Sky-Bird is really more of a bird than you may think, Mr. Giddings, " declared Paul. "Yes, " added his brother John. "As you probably know, sir, a bird getsits great buoyancy from the fact that every bone in its body is hollow;in flight it fills these bones with a very light gas, which is formedby an action of its lungs in drawing in air. We have adapted thisprinciple in the wings and fuselage of this little machine. They areairtight and filled with compressed helium-gas, which isnon-inflammable and nearly as light as its highly volatile rival, hydrogen-gas. " "Hydrogen-gas is surely a dangerous commodity around fire, " said Mr. Giddings. "I understand that when the big English dirigible R-34 cameacross the Atlantic last summer she was filled with hydrogen, and thather commander and crew all wore felt-soled shoes, so that they wouldnot by any chance cause a spark when they walked over her metal floorsand ladders just beneath her great bag. " "That is true, " vouched John Ross. "One little spark reaching any ofthat stored hydrogen would have torn that great dirigible intofragments in one gigantic blast. " "We have handled recent newspaper copy containing mention of this newgas, helium; but I must confess I am in the dark regarding its natureand source, " said Mr. Giddings. "What is it, anyway?" "I will refer your question to Paul here, " replied John. "He is theone who worked out this idea of using helium in an airplane and givingit the best properties of a dirigible without any of the dirigible'shandicap of clumsiness and excessive wind resistance. He has beenstudying the properties of helium in school, also the flight of birds. " "Well, not to get into a tiresome discourse, as Professor Herron wouldsay, I shall make this description very rudimentary, " said Paul, with asmile. "During a total eclipse of the sun in India in 1868, Lockyer, aBritish astronomer, saw in the spectroscope a bright, yellow line oflight around the sun. He called it _helium_, after the Greek word forsun. So much for him. Twenty-seven years later an element was foundon earth in natural-gas in Kansas, which gave the same bright, yellowlight viewed through the spectrum. The people, finding it would notburn, disgustedly let millions of barrels of this valuable elementescape into the air, before a scientist told them that it was of untoldvalue for balloon and airship purposes. It is thought the gas comesfrom radium deposits. It has never been found in any country exceptthe United States, and only here in Kansas and northern Texas, where itoccurs in sands from 14, 000 to 16, 000 feet deep. Our government is nowsecuring about 50, 000 cubic feet of helium per day, refusing to sell itto foreign countries, as it is all needed here, besides which it mightbe used against us in case of another war. " While Paul had been telling this, Mr. Giddings had been busy jottingsomething down in shorthand in a notebook. "Pardon me, Paul, " he said, looking up with a smile, "but this is somighty interesting that, before I knew it, my old-time reportorialinstinct had gotten the best of me, and I found my pencil at work. Ifyou have no objection I should like to use this in the columns of the_Daily Independent_ some time when it seems to fit in. " "No objection at all, sir, " assured Paul. Mr. Giddings began twirling the little twelve-inch two-bladed propellerat the nose of the model airplane. "What do you use for power to turnthis propeller?" he asked, after admiring its perfect proportions for amoment. "I don't see any rubber-bands, such as Robert here has alwaysused on his little machines. " John deftly lifted off the thin veneer hood of the airplane, anddisclosed a very small four-cylindered rotary pneumatic engine ofbewitching simplicity and lightness, which a baby could have held outin its pudgy palm. "Paul has worked this little motor out of aluminum and brass and steel, from odds and ends, " said John. "With more or less help on the part of my elder brother, " interjectedPaul. "Well, perhaps with a little, " admitted John, "more suggestive thanotherwise. " "What sets it going?" questioned Bob, curiously. "The fuselage is divided into three sections, " said Paul. "The forwardsection contains the engine here; the rear section is an airtightchamber containing helium; and the central section is also an airtightchamber, but contains ordinary air which has been pumped into itthrough a valve, using the bicycle pump John is carrying, until it isunder strong pressure. When I turn this little valve an outlet isopened for the air to escape by a tube into branches communicating witheach of these four cylinders. This works the tiny pistons, much thesame as gas in a gasoline-motor, and they turn the little crank-shaftto which they are connected, and the crank-shaft in turn revolves thepropeller on its end. " "Wonderfully simple!" Mr. Giddings exclaimed. "Wonderfully ingenious, too! Is this your invention, young men?" "Partly, sir, " replied Paul. "I understand, a company in New York ismaking a somewhat similar pneumatic motor for model airplanes, but Johnand I have made some radical improvements, to our notion. To-day'stest will tell the story. " "Let's see the propeller spin 'er up once for the fun of it, " suggestedBob. "It won't do any harm, will it? Dad and I will hold on to theairplane. " "Get a good grip then, " warned John Ross, "for you will find there's aterrific pull to the little rascal. Paul and I tried her in thatfashion early this morning down in the basement. " Bob and his father secured firm holds of the little Sky-Bird, one oneach side, where the propeller could not strike them. "Ready?" asked Paul, with a smile. "Ready!" came the answer in unison. Paul touched the little valve in the tank chamber of the fuselage. Thenext moment there was a quiver, and then the propeller began fairly tohum. A strong, steady gust of air began to blow in the faces of theGiddingses, while they had to hang on grimly in order to keep theirlittle charge from jumping out of their arms and dashing away into theair. For fully three minutes the propeller continued to whirl withundiminished speed, then slowly it began to slow up, and finallystopped. Both Mr. Giddings and his son wiped their hot brows as they handed theplane over to its makers. "Whew!" said Bob, "that little mule has got a lot of pull to her. " "That she has, " supplemented his father. "What sort of material is herframe made of?" "Balsa-wood, " said John. "I never heard of that. Is it something new?" "Yes, --to the arts of civilization, but I presume it has been used bythe Indians of Ecuador, where it grows, for scores of years in themaking of rafts, for which it is particularly well adapted. The treelooks much like our southern cottonwood, and the wood apparently has nograin. It has a surprising toughness and strength, and is a trifleover half the weight of cork, weighing only 7. 8 pounds per cubic foot, while the same sized piece of cork weighs 13. 7 pounds. " "Has this wood ever been used in constructing full-sized airplanes?"asked Mr. Giddings. "I think not; but Paul and I believe it will be the coming wood forthem, " said John with enthusiasm. "We have used it plain on thismachine. On a large airplane it ought to be reinforced with transversesections of very thin spruce laid latticewise. That would addconsiderably to its natural strength, and increase the total weightvery little. " "H'm, h'm!" said the great newspaper publisher, "this is veryinteresting, I am sure. Now let us see how this little affair behavesitself in the air. " Paul and his brother led the way out into one corner of the big field, so as to bring what slight breeze might spring up into the head of theairplane, explaining that machines without a pilot would keep a betterkeel under such conditions. John then carefully attached thebicycle-pump and recharged the air-tank, following which he took outhis watch to time the flight. Mr. Giddings and Bob also took out theirwatches. Paul set the little Sky-Bird down on the hard earth, in a spot wherethere was no grass or other obstacle, and with his finger on theair-valve, said: "Practically all rubber-band motors require startingthe model airplane off by picking it up and tossing it away from you upinto the air; but I think this machine will rise from the ground like alarge plane, on account of its great lightness and unusual power. Wewill now see if I am right. " To tell the truth, this being the first time he had really tried theSky-Bird in a flight, Paul was nervous as he turned the valve, removedhis hands from the graceful little plane, and straightened up. With a whirr like the wings of a partridge as it is flushed out of thegrass by the huntsman's dog, the small machine shot forward a few feetover the smooth ground, then gracefully arose in the air and startedaway toward the opposite corner of the field. As it proceeded itcontinued to rise, until it reached a height of possibly ninety or ahundred feet, when it began to dip unsteadily. "It's a gust of wind striking it, " remarked John uneasily. "I hope sheweathers it. If there was only a pilot in her now, he could----" But even as he spoke the Sky-Bird seemed to recover her balance. Making a pretty circle, away she sped on her course, neither rising norfalling. Like a real bird she sailed onward, the noise of her whirringpropeller now lost to her fliers, but her little pale-yellow silk wingsagainst the blue sky plainly tracing her course for them. Paul wasrunning after her now as fast as his legs could carry him. What if sheshould keep right on and go over the far fence?--he might lose thelittle darling! That fence was a good half-mile away. For his pet to cover such adistance had not seemed within the bounds of probability to eitherhimself or John at the start, for all of their great confidence in theflying powers of the new model. Now, as he kept on running and theSky-Bird continued going with no sign of dropping, Paul really becamealarmed for her safety in landing. But just before it reached the boundary of the grounds, the youth sawthat the airplane was slowly settling. Into the next field it flew, and the high board fence shut it from Paul's view as he came up to it. With a jump he caught the top boards, and scrambled up, springing downon the opposite side. It was to see his little machine just miss thebranches of an oak tree and settle down into some long grass about ahundred yards beyond. He found it undamaged, and hurried back to his friends in thefair-grounds, his heart beating jubilantly at the splendid results ofthe flight. He hugged the small airplane to his heart as if it werethe most precious possession in the world, as indeed it was to him. Mr. Giddings and Bob were loud in their praise, and John smiled in thatquiet way that told the younger brother how well pleased he was. Itwas found that the Sky-Bird had passed over the lower fence in just oneminute and three seconds, which was certainly good speed for such adiminutive contrivance. Several other flights were then made, all ofwhich were equally successful. At the conclusion Bob Giddings was soexcited that he could hardly stand still. "Dad, isn't this little thing simply a wonder?" he exclaimed. "I'dgive anything in the world if I could own a big fellow built on thisprinciple. I'll bet it would pass anything now made. " His father looked thoughtful for a moment. Then, turning to the Rossbrothers, he observed: "Do you think, boys, that these features could be successfully appliedto a full-sized airplane?" "There's no doubt at all about it, to my mind, sir, " replied John Ross. "That's the next thing Paul and I propose doing, although I expect weshall have a hard time getting enough money to meet the expense ofmaterials. Of course we shall have the regular type of gasoline enginein place of this pneumatic arrangement, as this principle won't applyto big machines. I figure a 400 horse-power Liberty engine would carrysuch a machine two hundred miles an hour. " Again Mr. Giddings was silent a moment. Then he resumed: "John, I hearthat you have been laid off from your Air Mail job. Is that right?" "It is, sir. " "Well, then, I am going to make a proposition to you and Paul, and in away Robert may consider himself involved, too, I expect. As you mayknow, Robert plans to be an electrical engineer, and Mrs. Giddings andmyself are anxious to encourage him in every way we can. For some timehe has been experimenting with wireless telegraph and telephoneapparatus, and has made some sets of the latter which it seems to meare an improvement over anything now on the market, particularly a setfor airplane use, which he has no means of properly testing out onaccount of the lack of the airplane. Now my proposition is just this:I will meet every expense of making a first-class full-sized airplanelike the Sky-Bird, and pay you, John, a wage equal to that which thegovernment allowed you as a pilot, if you three young men here will dothe construction work secretly, and if Robert may be allowed aone-third interest in the venture, both in the plane to be made, and inany future benefits to be derived from the patent rights. " Of course the delighted John and Paul accepted this splendid offer, andBob Giddings was so happy at the prospect of a fine big airplane inwhich to install his wireless apparatus that he actually hugged hisfather. They repaired to the Giddings home, and there, in truebusiness form, a contract was drawn up and duly signed by allinterested parties, with a notary's seal attached. With a copy in their possession, the Ross boys hurried home, afterhaving dinner with the Giddings family, to acquaint Mrs. Ross with thegood news. CHAPTER IV PLANNING A BIG AIRPLANE As planned, the much-talked-of Air Derby around the world took placefrom Mineola Field, New York, on the 4th of July. A great crowd hadbeen attracted, owing to the extensive accounts of the affair in thebig newspapers for the past several months, and a thrilling hush fellover the assemblage as, at high noon, one after another of the famousflyers took off in various types of aircraft. There were four bigdirigibles, two of which started to cross the Atlantic at once, whilethe others took a northerly course with the intention of making thefinal hop from St. John's, Newfoundland, in accordance with severalprevious attempts of other aircraft. Besides these, sevenheavier-than-air machines started, all making for Newfoundland also. Four of these were flying-boats, two were seaplanes, and the other wasa double-propellered biplane. Needless to say, the Ross boys and Bob Giddings and his father werepresent to see the machines off. They had arrived in the bigautomobile of the publisher, and were greatly interested in everydetail of the departure. Several of the contestants John Ross knew, having met them at some time during his flying periods, and it gave hima chance briefly to renew old acquaintanceship and personally to wishthem good luck on their long journey. Of course our friends would havegiven a whole lot to have been able to compete in the novel contestthemselves, but that was out of the question. When the last machine had disappeared from sight, they took theirdeparture. Mr. Giddings left them at the office of the _DailyIndependent_, following which Bob drove Paul and John out to some ofthe city's beautiful parks. Late in the afternoon they again stoppedat the newspaper building and picked up Bob's father, thereupon turningthe car in the direction of Yonkers. Altogether they had passed a verypleasant holiday. "Robert tells me that your plans for the new airplane, the Sky-Bird II, are just about finished, John, " remarked Mr. Giddings, as they spednorthward along the smooth surface of Riverside Drive, with itsbeautiful greenery on the left and its fine residences at the right. "Yes, sir, " said John; "we have been devoting every spare moment tothem. Of course a good many changes had to be made to adapt conditionsfrom the little airplane to the big fellow, and to incorporate theextra pet features we all agreed upon were desirable. You know itnever pays to start building an important and costly affair like anairplane without having every detail thoroughly planned out, andperfect working drawings in hand. I think Paul will complete thedrawings early next week, including copies for accompanying thespecifications when we apply to Washington for patent rights. As soonas the drawings are done, we will drop in at your home in the eveningand show them to you. " "Good!" said Mr. Giddings. "I shall await them with great interest. Isuppose as soon as I approve these drawings, you fellows will all pitchinto the actual work. " "We surely will, sir, " laughed Paul, while Bob, at the wheel in front, having caught some of the conversation, called back with energy:"That's just the size of it, dad. " "We have everything all ready, " continued Paul. "The balsa-wood andspruce we ordered some time ago is on hand, and that will keep us busyuntil other needed materials arrive. We have repaired the bigexhibition building in the old fair-grounds, put on new double doorsand purchased a good Yale lock for them. John and I have taken ourworkbench and tools over there, and Bob has helped us rig up a nicelittle five-horse power motor and small handsaw, also a circular saw, home-made sand-drum, a small planer, and a boring-machine. Thatbuilding is dry, and has lots of room in it for housing the newairplane as it grows to maturity. When cold weather comes we caneasily install a couple of heating-stoves to keep ourselves comfortableand protect our materials and the machine from frost damage. " Mr. Giddings expressed himself as well pleased with these arrangements. As he noted the foresightedness of the young mechanics his confidencein them expanded. "Don't hesitate to order anything you need, young men, " he said warmly. "Have them send the bills to me. If my trust in you is misplaced, I amwilling to stand the consequences. This is not only the best kind of apractical education for Bob, but it is good business training for allof us. Go ahead; go ahead!" With such strong encouragement, is it any wonder that the three youngmen continued their operations vigorously? Not one of them scarcelywanted to stop long enough to eat and sleep, _a la_ Edison; and as itwas now summer vacation time, Paul and Bob were able to be with Johnall day long in the old exhibition building. Neighboring boys and evenolder people hung around the open doors to watch operations, but thebuilders were careful not to let them get close enough to gain anyideas which might be harmful to their interests. On Tuesday evening of the week following the start of the Air Derby, John and his brother put on their best clothes and hied themselves overto the Giddings home. In Paul's hand was an envelope containing theprecious plans for the Sky-Bird II--completed at last by the youngdraftsman, and ready to be shown to the financial member of the quartet. When they were all seated in the Giddings library a little later, Mr. Giddings scrutinized the plans with every evidence of satisfactionwritten upon his strong features. Now and then he would ask aquestion, as Paul explained view after view and detail after detail. At length he pointed to an oblong object situated in the pilot'scockpit just under the dashboard. "What is that?" he asked, curiously. "That is what John and I call an 'automatic pilot, '" answered Paul. "It is a new form of stabilizer, and made so as to overcome the defectsof others which are on the market. A stabilizer should automaticallykeep an airplane on a fairly level keel no matter how air conditionsare, even so steady that it will travel along on its course for aconsiderable distance with the pilot paying no attention to hiscontrols, perhaps eating his lunch or reading his orders. " "A mighty useful contrivance, " commented Mr. Giddings. "I should thinkthat would also prevent lots of accidents in bad winds. " "It will--if it turns out as we expect, " Paul remarked. "Give me the full details of this, " was the request. "Remember, I amnot much of an airplane man. " "Well, " said Paul, "you know, sir, that it is far more difficult todrive an airplane than to guide an automobile, not merely because youhave two steering-gears or rudders to take care of, one for sidewiseand the other for up-and-down travel, but also because there aremovable planes in the wings of the machine, which have to be worked totip or 'bank' it when making a turn or to keep it on an even keel whena gust of wind strikes it. The 'rudder' is the vertical plane at thetail of the machine, and is used for steering sideways, while the'elevators' are the two horizontal movable planes just below therudder, which are used for steering up and down. Similar planes to thelatter, one situated in the back edge of each upper wing, are called'ailerons, ' and one or the other is raised or depressed according towhether the aviator wishes to bank to the right or left. "The driver of an automobile has nothing to do but watch hissteering-wheel, and be ready to touch a pedal when he wishes to slow upor go faster or stop. If he makes a curve he does not have to bank hismachine owing to his comparatively slow speed; but the aviator, traveling much faster through the air, must do this, bringing hisairplane to a steep angle if he makes a very short turn. If he doesnot calculate just right, he is likely to turn upside down and meetthis death in a nasty fall. "While the careful automobilist can always see the road in front of himand avoid rough spots or obstacles before he reaches them, the aviatorcannot do this. It is true that he can see another airplane if it getsin his way, or a church steeple when he is flying low; but his greatestdangers are in the clear air itself, where they cannot be detected. Hemay suddenly drop into a 'hole, ' which is really a downward current ofair, or he may get a terrific bump when he strikes a rising current. Afreakish whim of the winds may unexpectedly take away the air supportfrom under one of the wings, and he will lurch and dip sharply to oneside. " "And I suppose sometimes lose all control?" said Mr. Giddings. "Yes, sir; that has very often happened, " put in John. "A flyer friendof mine took a nasty tumble that way near Cleveland last year, breakingthree ribs. It's a wonder he wasn't killed. " "The pilot is blind to these pitfalls, " went on Paul. "He must controlhis machine largely by intuition and the sense of feeling, although theveteran airman, John says, can tell a good deal about what to expectfrom the nature of the earth or clouds below him. " "That's true, " averred John. "The closer you are to the earth the moreyou will feel the 'bumps, ' as we call them. They are a whole lot likethe waves of the ocean, only invisible, and there will be one straightover every protuberance or depression of size in the surface of theearth. Mountains, hills, houses, lakes, valleys, rivers, forests, allcause bumps or holes in the air up above them. At one thousand feetthey are pretty bad. At ten thousand feet they are scarcelynoticeable. That's why most pilots prefer to fly high whenever theycan. " "What causes the air to act in this way over such configurations?"propounded the publisher. John looked helpless, and smiled. "You've got me there, " he admitted. "I haven't had the opportunity to study aerostatics the same as Paulhere. He can probably tell us. " "I'm not through my course yet, " reminded his brother, "but I think Ican answer that. The air surrounding the earth is a great belt fortyor more miles through and is of an even thickness. As our globe sweepsthrough it, the lower stratum of air naturally sinks down into thevalleys and like depressions. This action pulls down the upperstretches of air, thus creating what are termed 'air-pockets' or'air-holes. ' Very dangerous they are, too. " "That is plain enough, " declared Bob. "Now, dad, let Paul go onexplaining this 'automatic pilot. '" "If the aviator is enshrouded in fog or tries to sail through a heavybank of clouds, he is quite likely to lose all sense of direction, "continued Paul. "He will not know whether he is banking or travelingon an even keel. Sometimes pilots have come out of a low cloud to findthemselves dangerously close to the earth and in an awkward position, perhaps in a steep bank, a side-slip, or even in the terrifyingnose-dive, and they have not had time to right themselves beforecrashing to earth. So you see that before flying can become reasonablysafe, some way must be found of keeping the machine automatically on alevel keel. "To operate this stabilizer of ours all the pilot will have to do is toguide the rudder with his feet. The automatic pilot works the elevatorand the ailerons. It takes care of 'bumps' and 'holes' and sees thatthe machine banks at just the right angle on the turns. This makes theoperation of an airplane containing the stabilizer even more simplethan running a motor-car, because you do not have to worry about goinginto different speed gears when climbing or descending. You willnotice on this drawing that strong piano-wires connect the instrumentswith all the necessary controlling planes of the machine. " "Instruments?" interrogated Mr. Giddings. "I thought there was butone. " "No; there are two stabilizers, as you will see, --here, and here, " wasPaul's response, pointing his finger to the parts. "But, as each oneis exactly like the other in its construction, only the one has beendrawn in detail. The other stabilizer runs lengthwise of the cockpitand takes care of the elevator. Both of these are operated bycompressed air, which proceeds from a little tank, right here. Thetank is kept supplied by two tubes which lead into it, and each ofwhich joins a small pump operated by a fan which is right here on eachside of the fuselage where the onrush of wind will keep it humming asthe airplane travels. "Each equalizer has a bore in it half-filled with mercury, working agood deal like a carpenter's level. If the airplane tilts to one sideor the other, the mercury will try to keep its level and willimmediately flow to the high side of the bore. At each end of thismercury tube there are electrical contact points. As one becomessubmerged in the mercury by a tilting of the plane, a connection ismade whereby two electro-magnets are energized on that side. One ofthese magnets closes an exhaust-valve, and the other opens aninlet-valve, in the compressed air tank. At once air is forced intothis double cylinder, which you see at the bottom of the stabilizer, filling the half which is to operate its own set of rudders; and apiston begins to work inside. The piston is connected to a toothedrack, as you will note, causing this to turn a sector engaging it. Thecontrol wires connect with this sector. " "Very clever arrangement; but I don't quite see how, in banking, theailerons can be brought back automatically to a neutral position assoon as the turn has been completed, " ventured Mr. Giddings. "John and I have provided for that, while Bob is responsible for theelectrical features I have just mentioned, " said Paul. "You willnotice that at the top of the mercury channel there is a dividing wall. A tube runs from the left side of this wall to the right wing of theairplane, also from the right side of the wall to the left wing. Atthe end of each tube there is what we call a 'venturi tube. ' This is akind of suction device operated by the wind. The wind which blowsthrough the left venturi tube sucks the air out of the right-hand sideof the mercury tube, and the right venturi tube sucks the air out ofthe left-hand side of the mercury tube. The stronger the wind, thegreater the suction. Now, when making a turn to the right the leftwing must travel faster than the right wing, and so there must be moresuction in the left venturi. This produces a greater suction in theright-hand side of the mercury tube, which draws the mercury up on thatside and down on the other, until the proper electrical contact isbroken and the ailerons are returned to neutral position. " "Can the mechanism be thrown out of gear when desired? I should thinksuch a feature might be desirable, " remarked Mr. Giddings. "Indeed it is desirable, sir, " declared Paul. "No red-blooded pilotwishes to sit still and let his machine run itself all the time, nomore than an automobilist. That would spoil all the sport. By merelydisengaging the automatic pilot's wires here at the sector--the work ofa couple of seconds--the airplane is ready for hand control. " "How much does it weigh?" was the gentleman's next query. "A trifle less than a hundred pounds. " "That oughtn't to handicap an airplane any. " "Not a bit, " said Paul. CHAPTER V AN AIR RACE FINISH AND A CHALLENGE All in all, Mr. Giddings expressed himself as more than pleased withthe drawings for the Sky-Bird II. At the end of the explanation, heput the papers back in the envelope, and asked: "Have you another set of these drawings in ink, Paul?" "Yes, sir; this is a copied set; the original drawings from which wewill make our tracings and blue-prints are at home. " "You had better leave them there in a safe place, and work from yourblue-prints in the old exhibition building at the fair-grounds, beingcareful to lock them up in your workbench every time you depart. Ithink you boys have a valuable thing here, and it is to your interestto keep others from knowing your plans or seeing the airplane until wehave full government protection in the shape of patent rights. I shallturn this set of drawings over to a patent attorney in the city and askhim to make application to the Patent Office in Washington withoutdelay. " The next morning all three boys, filled with new confidence and energy, met at the fairgrounds as soon as they had had their breakfasts. Paulcarried two rolls of fresh blue-prints, which he and John had madewhile their mother was preparing the meal. One of these sets he gaveto Bob to take home as his own special property, and the other one hespread out on the workbench for consultation as their needs required. Up to this time no effort had been made to keep children and curiousadults out of the grounds, but as their machine was now beginning totake on real form, they determined to do this. On a piece of board, Paul printed in large letters, "Private Grounds; Keep Out, " and Bobnailed this up on the outside of the high board fence at the entrance. The gate itself they closed and barred on the inside. "Guess that will be a sufficient hint to the grown-ups, " said Bob witha grin. "If the kids climb over, we'll fasten a red flag to the frontof our big hangar and paint 'Dynamite' in letters a yard long acrossthe front of the building. " "Yes, and if that doesn't keep them away we'll turn the hose on them, "laughed John. Then they fell to work on the new airplane, applying themselves likebeavers. All three boys had had the splendid benefits of manualtraining when they were in the public schools, and knew how to handleevery machine they had set up. In addition to this, Paul and Bob werefirst-class amateur machinists, as their courses of engineering inClark Polytechnic embraced the use of metal-working appliances of thelatest design, as well as wood-working machinery, and they could haveoperated other machines had they needed them. That evening the workers went back home tired but well satisfied withtheir progress. The next day the shavings flew again, and by thelatter part of the week they had begun to assemble portions of thefuselage, using a waterproof glue which had been especially preparedfor airplanes, and applying galvanized screws to withstand rust in dampatmospheres. As the days went by, the boys, like almost everybody in the country, watched the newspapers eagerly for reports of the progress of thecontestants in the big Air Derby around the world. Only four of theeleven aircraft to start had succeeded in getting across thetreacherous Atlantic, two of these being dirigible balloons, one aflying-boat, and the other a Vickers-Vimy biplane. After landing onEuropean soil one of the lucky airships came to grief in Italy inmaking a stop for fuel, but the driver had obtained an Italian Caproniplane and was making his way eastward with all haste. The otherdirigible, commanded by Americans, had reached Teheran, Persia, wheregas-bag troubles had compelled her crew to continue by train. Aboutthe same time the flying-boat, piloted by a Boston man, and thebiplane, in control of two Englishmen, had reached Yokohama, Japan, within a few hours of each other. It was said that these contestantswould wait there for the first steamship going to San Francisco, asthey feared it would be impossible to fly across the great Pacificstretch of almost five thousand miles. Upon reaching San Franciscothey planned to continue the journey to New York in airplanes furnishedby California aeronautical friends. The newspapers shortly after this announced the sailing of the rivalparties at Yokohama. Storms and fog delayed the vessel. Finally shearrived at the Golden Gate, and then came the mad race across the NorthAmerican continent in fresh airplanes. Near Cheyenne, Wyoming, theAmerican plane was forced to the ground by engine trouble, allowing hercompetitor to get ahead several hours. This lead the American couldnot overcome, and the race ended at 5:15 o'clock on the afternoon ofJuly 27th, with the English crew first and the American crew second. Three days later the belated French crew, who had met with mishap inItaly, came in, winning third prize. The Ross brothers were at work in the hangar when Bob Giddings, who hadgone into town on his motorcycle after some more screws, came backwaving the copy of the _Daily Independent_ containing this last account. "Cartier and his bunch have arrived, " he cried, springing from hismachine. "Here it is on the first page. That accounts for all theprize-winners, and the excitement is practically over. The others willjust lob in now--and they might as well. " He tossed the paper to John. "Here, read it, you fellows, " he said. "You can quit on the Sky-Birdlong enough for that, I guess. I'll work while you lay off a fewminutes. " Bob rolled up his sleeves, and John and Paul spread out the newspaperon the bench and interestedly read the article in question. As theyfinished, and were turning around to resume work, Bob observed: "Dad's got a rattling good editorial on this Air Derby, if I do say it. Take a look at page 5 and see how he rips 'em up the back. " Shoulder to shoulder, the two brothers leaned over the bench and readas follows: "AROUND-THE-WORLD" RECORDS The world has just witnessed the finish of another effort on the partof mankind to circle the globe in record-breaking time. And once morethe newspapers of the universe, and the sporting chroniclers, areregistering a new record in this class of human endeavor. When, threedays ago, the English team, headed by Chester Hodge, dropped out of aCurtis plane into Mineola Field, it was just 23 days, 6 hours and 15minutes after the same crew had left that field in their Vickers-Vimy. This beats the former record of 36 days and some odd hours, made in1913 by John Henry Mears, by the substantial margin of approximately 12days. It is a big gain--a startlingly short time for encompassing theworld as compared with the efforts of the past. All of the three contesting crews to finish have broken Mears's record, and deserve great credit for their praise-worthy performance. Thesponsors for this first great Air Derby around the world, the prominentaero clubs of this country and the Eastern Hemisphere, also deservemuch praise for conceiving and promoting such a successful contest, andin posting such magnificent prizes. But, in the interests of other similar tours likely to follow, thisnewspaper thinks it high time to declare itself opposed most vigorouslyto two fundamental features governing the competition just closed. First, why was this contest called by its promoters an "Air Derby"? Inour opinion, with rules allowing the use of other modes of travel aswell as aircraft, the title is a decided misnomer. It should have beentermed a "Go-As-You-Please Derby. " Not a single one of thesecontestants accomplished the girdle by airplane alone; every winnertook a steamship across the Pacific. Here's hoping that when another'round-the-world contest is pulled off it will be tagged with a titlewhich fits. Second, when a specific record trip around the world is promulgated, isit scientifically correct to take a route which is approximately 30 percent shorter than the actual circumference of the universe on which welive? In a foot race around a circular track judges do not letsprinters pick out their own course and "cut across lots" whenever theychoose. Nor is it allowed in horse races, auto races, or any form ofsport where time records are registered on curving courses. The _Daily Independent_ contends that beginning with Jules Verne'smythical hero Phileas Fogg, who in the story negotiated the journey inthe improbable time of 80 days, back in 1872, every record-maker in theflesh and blood has followed northerly routes averaging the 30thparallel, thus traversing only about 16, 000 miles of the world's actualcircumference of 24, 899 miles; and these records have gone down as trueand complete accomplishments! But, because a wrongful practice, onemisrepresentative of its purpose, has been carried on for almost acentury, is it any reason for arguing that the process should continuein this advanced and enlightened day? We say NO! It is time for this practice of around-the-world humbug andcheatery to stop right now. If it takes our fastest modernglobe-trotters a whole year to go around the world by a route equal toor approximating the equatorial girth, then let it take them a year;for the sake of our pride and all that is good and sincere let us doour stunts on the square. There are no records of an equatorial trip around the world. Who willbe the first to establish one? Let us run a pen through all theseshort-cut records of the past, and turn a clean page for the entry ofthe first real journey around the fat old world's belt. As Paul finished the editorial his heart was beating very fast. He wasa true sportsman, and he realized the truth in the bold stand taken bythe _Daily Independent_. His brother John was no less favorablyaffected by it. "Bang me, if that isn't a good article!" said John enthusiastically. "Mr. Giddings may get a lot of criticism for this from a certain classof people, but he's taking the right course. " "He certainly is, " approved Paul. "I had never thought of it before, but he points the error out so clearly that almost anybody ought torealize the need of a fairer route after reading his statements. Justas he says, it's never too late to correct matters which have beengoing wrong, no matter how long. " "I'd give anything I've got if I could be the first fellow to go aroundthe world's belt, " declared John, his brown cheeks glowing with deepercolor at the thought; "I wouldn't care so much about beating theseother chaps in the matter of time, just so long as I made a fair trail. " "Oh, John, wouldn't that be a great trip!" cried Paul. "Say, look at here, " broke in Bob Giddings, who had been near enough tooverhear all of this conversation. His face was glowing, too, as heturned toward the brothers. "When we get the Sky-Bird II done, whycouldn't the three of us pick out a new course around the globe in her?If she's as good as we think she will be, we could travel over any kindof land or water with her, and I think we could pick out islands in thePacific so that we could cross that and make the entire journey by air. " "I believe this old ship could do it all right, " said John, full ofconfidence and thrilled at the idea, as he stepped back and looked atthe partly-assembled fuselage with a loving eye. "But, Bob, a triplike that would cost a lot of money just for gas, and you know Paul andI could hardly afford it. " "I'm going to speak to dad about it, anyhow, " decided Bob; "he has beentalking airplanes and world routes at home to mother and me for thelast three months, and maybe he will be interested enough to back usup. He never stops at anything when he once sets his mind on it. " It was several days after this that Bob Giddings came to work withanother newspaper in his hands. "Things seem to be coming our way as fast as they can, " he said, with amysterious smile. "Take in what Mr. Wrenn, the editor of this paper, says in this framed insert on the front page. " John and Paul did as directed. The article was prominently displayed, and was to the effect that the _Clarion_ disagreed very strongly withthe attitude adopted by its contemporary, the _Daily Independent_, inregard to around-the-world routes. It declared that it was physicallyimpossible by any mode of modern travel to follow a route along, oreven within twenty degrees of, the equatorial line, and said it was ashame to assail the creditable records made in the past. In conclusionit stated: If our esteemed sheet, the _Daily Independent_, feels so cock-sure ofits position, why does it not do a little demonstrating? Why does itnot organize an expedition, and prove its claim? This is all bunk! Weare so sure of it, that we right now challenge our misguided friend torun us a race around the world on a course of his own selection, at anytime, by any mode of travel he may choose. There! we have knocked thechip off of the _Daily Independent's_ shoulder. Now let's see if ourfriend is really a bluffer or a fighter. "You know the _Clarion_ is a powerful evening newspaper, too, " saidBob, when the Ross boys looked up from their reading. "It has alwaysbeen a hot rival of dad's paper, but it never got quite so sarcastic asthis before. Dad was good and mad when he read this last night. 'I'llshow both the _Clarion_ and the public whether I'm a bluffer or not, 'he said to mother. 'If it takes the last cent I've got I'll organizean expedition to meet their challenge and prove my theory to be thecorrect one. ' Then I woke up to our opportunity. I suggested to dadthat if the Sky-Bird turned out as we hoped, she would be the verything to pioneer such a route and give the _Clarion_ people a race tomake their eyes stick out; and I said John Ross was willing to head acrew including Paul and myself. " "What did he say?" asked John and Paul, almost in the same breath. "Well, he gave a little gasp; his eyes snapped, and he quit walking thefloor and sat down on the davenport. 'Robert, ' he said, 'I'll thinkthis matter over. ' Then he lit a cigar and went to smoking. Dadseldom smokes except when he's got something heavy on his mind. " John and Paul now joined Bob in putting a knee-brace in the newairplane body. Somehow they had a feeling that the parts they wereassembling with such care would one of these days go on a very long andarduous journey. CHAPTER VI THE MISSING BLUE-PRINTS The Air Derby created interest all over the world. People in foreignlands talked about it and read about it in their newspapers, just asthey had done in the United States and Canada. With the keenest kindof interest they had followed the reports of its progress and itsfinish. Several nations had hoped to have their own representativescome in first, only to be disappointed. All this interested world pricked up its attention anew when the boldeditorial of the _Daily Independent_ was widely copied. As John Rosshad predicted, and as probably Mr. Giddings knew before he wrote it, this particular article caused a furore of comment editorially andotherwise. Much of this, --indeed, it seemed the most of it--wasfavorable to the stand taken by the New York publisher. But when therival sheet, the _Clarion_, arrayed its strong force in opposition, theconservative element of the public felt vastly encouraged, and manywere the heated personal arguments as well as newspaper duels, whichensued. Aviators all over the land were particularly concerned, and itgoes without saying that the winners of the late competition were alllined up with the _Clarion_ contingent. This paper's challenge to the_Daily Independent_ for a two-party race around the world on the_Independent's_ own conception of what it considered a fair route awokegreat joy in the hearts of the leave-things-as-they-have-beenadherents. Few, if any of them, particularly the publishers of the_Clarion_, thought Mr. Giddings would ever take up the challenge. Therefore, judge of the surprise of everybody, and the dismay of the_Clarion_ staff, when a few days following the flaunting of itschallenge, the front page of the Giddings paper contained thefollowing, under a heavy black type heading: THIS PAPER ACCEPTS THE "CLARION'S" CHALLENGE A short time ago the _Daily Independent_ in an editorial stronglycriticized the methods or rather routes used in the past in makingworld tours for a time record, stating that such journeys had all beenmade unfairly, in that the routes adopted were about a third less thanthe actual circumference of the globe, and that in our opinion the onlylegitimate around-the-world record could be made by followingapproximately the equatorial line. We expected a good deal of criticism, of course, when we came out thusboldly against a custom which had prevailed since the beginning ofso-called "around the world" record trips. But we did not expect to bechallenged to prove our sincerity by ourselves making such a journey incompetition with our esteemed but rabid contemporary, the _Clarion_. To show the _Clarion_ that we are not "bluffing, " and that we areperfectly willing to demonstrate practically any position we ever take, we herewith accept its challenge. Even now we have in process ofconstruction a new type of airplane, by means of which we are confidentwe can fly approximately straight around the belly of this old worldentirely by air. A little later we shall announce a time, place, androute, in our columns, and sincerely trust the _Clarion_ will besatisfied with them. It is quite unnecessary to say that Paul and John Ross read theforegoing article with the keenest pleasure the night they reached homefrom the hangar and found their mother just finishing its perusal. Naturally Mrs. Ross felt all of the average mother's anxiety at thethought that her sons would be exposed to the perils such a longjourney would invite, but on the other hand she was very proud to thinktheir talents had placed them in such an honored position. It had onlybeen an evening or two before that Mr. Giddings, in company with hisson Robert, had called at the Ross homestead, and after a longconference with the boys as to the suitability of the new Sky-Bird IIfor making a world cruise, had taken his departure with his mind fullymade up as to how he should meet the rival paper's challenge. A few days subsequently, Bob Giddings found, upon reaching home forlunch, that his motorcycle, which he was in the habit of riding backand forth to work, so that he could rush into town on short notice andget emergency materials for the airplane, had a flat tire. As he couldnot fix the tire then, he decided to walk back to the fair-grounds. As he emerged from the big front yard of his home, he chanced to looktoward town, and observed an orange-colored taxicab standing near thefirst crossing. This would not have especially attracted Bob'sattention, except for the fact that a man sitting on the front seat wasjust at that moment pointing his index finger toward the Giddings'place, and a slender-looking man just descending from the cab waslooking that way and nodding his head. It seemed to Bob that he had seen the passenger before, but a secondlook made him think he must be mistaken; at least he could not placehim. "It's probably somebody to see dad. If so, he'll get disappointed, asdad won't get back from the city before evening. " Dismissing the incident from his mind with this thought. Bob hurrieddown the road, eager to reach the hangar and get to work again on thenew airplane. A few moments after he had passed the home of a youth he knew, he hearda familiar salutation, and turned around to wave his hand in a greetingto this friend, who had come to the front door. As he turned, his eyefell on a slender figure some distance behind, a figure which steppedbehind a tree and stopped. "Humph! that's funny, " mused Bob. "It looks a lot like that fellow whogot out of the taxi back there by our house; I wonder what he's up to, anyhow?" He continued his way, but as he reached the fair-grounds gate and gotout his key to unlock it, the whim to look back again seized him. Ashe turned, his gaze once more rested on the slender form of thewayfarer, who had crossed to the opposite side of the road, and whonow, finding himself observed once more, promptly stopped and began tofuss with his shoe-lace. "Say now, this is funny!" ejaculated Bob under his breath, vainlytrying again to recall the identity of the lean figure and darkcomplexion. "I believe that chap is trying to shadow me. I wonderwhat in the dickens he really is up to?" It was the second time Bob had asked that question of himself, but ashe was a poor source of information just then, he was forced to passinto the fair-grounds and relock the gate in as mystified a state ofmind as before he put the query. A little later, when he reached the big hangar he whirled about again, as if half expecting to see the stranger still skulking behind him inthe grounds. To his relief he did not detect this situation exactly, but he did see a dark face, which had been peering over the top of thehighboard fence near the gate, drop down from view on the other side. Bob gave a grunt as he passed into the hangar and took off his coat. "As I live, I believe he's up to some sort of mischief, " growled theboy. And when, shortly afterward, John and Paul Ross appeared he toldof his experience and repeated his suspicions. "That is funny, " asserted John; "Paul and I saw nothing of any such manwhen we came along, and we passed down the same road. Perhaps hemistook you for somebody else. " "I hope so, but I don't like his actions a little bit, " declared Bobstoutly. With that he picked up a try-square and pencil and began laying outsome work for Paul to cut on the circular saw, while John busiedhimself at the boring-machine in putting a hole through the center ofthe big twelve-foot balsa-wood propeller which a little later would bereinforced with a thin jacket of a new metal called "salinamum, " whichwas made chiefly from salt but whose fused components made it as lightas aluminum and stronger than tool steel. Soon the queer actions of the stranger were quite forgotten in the deepinterest of the three young men in their work. With the prospect of aworld tour before them if the Sky-Bird turned out well, they now hadmore incentive than at the beginning to build the machine with theutmost skill and attention to every detail. Some changes, calculatedto make the craft better adapted to the peculiar conditions she wouldbe likely to meet in such a varied temperature were put into effect, but on the whole they found their original plans so well laid that noimportant features seemed to require modification or abandonment. But if the man who had followed Bob dropped out of their minds the restof that day, he was soon to occupy a prominent place in their thoughts. For the very next morning, when Paul and John arrived at the hangar, they were met at the door by a very agitated Bob Giddings. "Fellows, what do you think has happened?" cried Bob, clearly very muchexcited. Without giving his friends time to answer the question heblurted out: "Somebody got in here last night and stole our plans!" "Stole our plans!" reiterated Paul and John in the same gasp. "That's it, " said Bob, --"stole the set of blue-prints we have beenworking from. What's more, they must have seen the airplane beforethey got out. I went to take the plans out of the bench drawer herewhere we have kept them locked up, and there was the drawer wide open, the lock picked, and the drawings gone. I'll bet a herring we canthank my dark-skinned shadow of yesterday for this little visit!" "It does look as if he might have had something to do with this, "agreed John soberly. "I wonder how the rascal, whoever he is, couldhave gotten in the building. There's a heavy Yale lock on the doors. " "The doors were locked all right when I came this morning, " vouchedBob. "I don't see myself how--" "Here you are, gentlemen!" called Paul, who had stepped to a good-sizedwindow near the head of the workbench. "Here's the fellow's privateentrance!" And he pointed to where a heavy nail locking the lower sashhad been forced aside, also to a series of indentations in the outersill, where some prying tool had obviously been recently at work. "It's a clear case of theft, that's sure, " observed John; "and sinceits only our plans that have been taken, it goes to show that this chapis very much concerned about this new airplane. " "Perhaps he wishes to beat us out in getting the patent rights, " Bobhinted darkly. "No, I don't think it's that, " differed Paul; "our application was sentin to Washington some weeks ago, and you know the first one to applyfor a certain patent gets the attention. " "Well, then, he could use our plans and make and sell airplanes oftheir pattern, couldn't he?" asked Bob, whose ideas of patent laws werestill a little vague. "Not at all; if he did we could sue him for infringement, " was Paul'sanswer. "The only way he could profit by this theft, so far as I cansee, would be to construct a machine for his own private use, or togive to another person. We could not touch him for that. " "And that would be bad enough for us--if such a machine were usedagainst us in this proposed race around the world, wouldn't it?"demanded Bob Giddings. Paul and John Ross looked at him in dismayed astonishment. They hadnot thought of this contingency before. CHAPTER VII WHO'S AT THE WINDOW? The making of a big airplane is a good-sized job. Especially is thisthe case with the first airplane made up from new plans. And when thejob has to be done by no more than three young men, it becomes anunusually formidable task. The loss of the blue-prints did not hold up the progress of our friendsin the least, as it was only the matter of fifteen or twenty minutes'work for Paul to make a new set from the tracings he had at home; butthere were unexpected difficulties met here and there in theconstructive work, as is always the case in large mechanicalundertakings of an original nature, besides which the young buildersran into the usual delays caused by slow deliveries of parts andmaterials from distant dealers and manufacturers; and sometimes therailroads were tardy in transporting shipments. All in all, the summer slipped away only too quickly, and it came timefor Paul and Bob to go back to school again with Sky-Bird II not morethan half finished. It is true that the long fuselage of the craft wasdone, with its graceful curves and splendid, roomy, enclosed cabin, accommodating five persons; but all concerned were a littledisappointed that more progress had not been made. Mr. Giddings hadbeen quite a frequent visitor at the fair-grounds all through thesummer, lending a voice of encouragement throughout the operations. Helooked really concerned, however, when Paul and Bob had to return toClark Polytechnic Institute for the new term of study. "This is rather hard on us, isn't it, boys?" he observed, with a lightlaugh in which he unsuccessfully tried to conceal his anxiety. "Herewe are with a half-completed airplane, a race staring us in the facefor next summer, and two of our workmen snatched away for the wholewinter by the inexorable demands of school life, leaving only one lonefellow to finish the job. " "We'll be able to work Saturdays, dad, " ventured Bob, trying to wedge alittle bit of cheer into the gloomy prospect. "And evenings. I'd be willing to work after supper every night for acouple of hours, " proposed Paul. "You won't do any such thing, " came the firm answer. "While you are atschool you two fellows need your evenings for rest and study, and yourSaturdays for the school-team sports. Only when there isn't a game onin which you are a contestant will I allow you to help John on themachine--even if it isn't finished for five years. I have beenthinking this situation over for some time, for I have seen it coming, "went on the great publisher after a moment's pause; "and I have come tothe conclusion that the best thing I can do to hustle our ship along isto call in another workman on the job, some chap we can trust and whoknows how to handle tools. In fact, if he were a regular airplanemechanic it would be all the better. " John Ross spoke up at once. "Mr. Giddings, " he said, "I think you havethe right idea. Bob and Paul can't help me much from now on, and if wetake that trip around the world next summer this machine must be donesome weeks ahead, so that we can have a chance to test her out and tuneher up. Now, it happens that Paul and I have a cousin--Tom Meeks--whois about my age and who flew in the same squadron with me over on theFrench front during the war. I will vouch for Tom's ability as amechanic and flyer, also as to his trustworthiness. It happens mymother just received a letter from Tom's folks in Illinois the otherday in which she said the factory had closed down in which he wasworking and he was out of a job. " "And you think this Tom Meeks would be willing to come up here, then, and help you this winter for the salary I am paying you?" questionedMr. Giddings with interest. "I think he would, sir. " "Then write to him immediately, and tell him to come right on. " In less than a week a strapping big young man, suitcase in hand, gotoff the train at the Yonkers depot, and was warmly greeted by hiscousins, Paul and John Ross, who then introduced him to Bob Giddings. Bob had been so eager to see the new helper on the airplane that hecould not wait for a later meeting with him. He took instant liking tothe jolly newcomer, who seemed to be ever smiling, and after a shortexchange of conversation with him hurried home to tell his father whata splendid fellow Tom Meeks was. Tom was domiciled in the Ross home, to which he had been a visitor inother years, and of course for the rest of that evening was kept busyvisiting with Mrs. Ross and looking at the numerous miniature airplanesof Paul's. His praise of the little Sky-Bird, and particularly of thedrawings of Sky-Bird II was very strong, and when he went to thefair-grounds the following morning with John and actually saw what afine-looking ship the big craft was, he was stumped for words toexpress his full admiration. Then while John and Tom went industriously to work, Paul and Bob rodeaway to Clark Polytechnic in New York with Mr. Giddings. Just beforestarting into the city that morning, the newspaper man had met Tom, andthere was little doubt that he was well pleased with this addition tohis force of workers. Of course Paul and Bob were sorry to have tointerrupt their labors on Sky-Bird II, but there was no help for it, and there was some consolation in the thought that undoubtedly theirinstructors would let them work on some of the airplane's smaller partsas a portion of their school mechanical practice. This suppositionindeed proved correct, and as the fall days passed they found the twostudent chums not only partaking with full spirit in the sports oftheir comrades, but also contributing in no small measure to theprogress of the work on the new airplane. As a rule, Paul and Bob managed to stop in each Saturday for at leastan hour or so to lend some assistance to John and Tom, and when therewere no school contests on, they spent practically the entire holidayin the hangar. The cool days of November soon compelled the boys to install a coupleof heating stoves in the big building, and after that the place waswarm and cheery throughout the working day, no matter how blustery andnippy the weather. At night the coals were carefully banked withashes, to keep up a fair degree of warmth until the following morning. Up to this time nothing had been seen of any suspicious person lurkingaround the premises, but one afternoon late in the month, when TomMeeks was working alone in the hangar and John had gone to town aftersome bolts, Tom thought he heard a strange sound at one of the twowindows near the workbench. Turning quickly from the wing-strut which he had been setting in place, Tom faced the window just in time to see a swarthy-looking countenance, adorned with a toothbrush-like mustache, pulled out of range. Themechanic had been informed of Bob's experience with the man who hadevidently followed him to the grounds during the summer, also of theblue-prints which had been stolen, and now as he observed thesimilarity in looks between this eavesdropper and the reported shadowof Bob, he became quite excited. With that lack of coolness and presence of mind characterizing a morereserved temperament, the impulsive Tom rushed straight up to thewindow, and peered out. Of course he could see nothing, for the peeperhad been cute enough upon finding himself observed to keep close to theside of the building as he moved swiftly toward its rear. Tom now seized the lower sash and tried to throw it up, so as to get asidewise view. To his disgust he found it double-spiked, and realizedthat he had put that very second nail in himself upon first learning ofthe loss of the blue-prints. "Huckleberry pie!" sputtered Tom, using his favorite expression whenexcited. He whirled about and started for the door of the building. On accountof the extensive size of the structure it was quite a little way tothis. To make matters worse Tom dashed forward in such haste andflurry that he did not watch his step very closely; when he was abouthalf-way to the door, his toe caught the protruding leg of an innocentsawhorse, and the next moment Tom Meeks and the sawhorse were bothoverturned. "Huckleberry pie!" gasped the big fellow. His right shin hurt likefury, but he would not stop to examine it, and covered the remainingdistance to the door in very ludicrous limping jumps. Dashing aroundthe front of the building, he reached the corner which gave him a viewof the side. Not a soul was in sight. Not to be outdone completely, Tom hurriedalong the side of the building. As he came near the rear end he saw aslender figure just clambering over the highboard fence of the field inthe rear of the hangar. Lame as he was, big Tom knew there was no chance of his overtaking thefleet-footed and cunning stranger, so he returned to his work very muchcrestfallen in spirit. When John heard what had happened, on his return to work, he wasconsiderably disturbed, and suggested to his comrades the advisabilityof placing a night-guard on the premises for a while at least, sincethis unknown enemy might make an effort some night to burn orirreparably damage the Sky-Bird. The others sanctioned thisprecaution, and thereafter took turns in watching, although thisvigilance was apparently all for naught, as no suspicious characterappeared. CHAPTER VIII THE SKY-BIRD II "Well, Mr. Giddings, what do you think of Sky-Bird II?" asked JohnRoss, one memorable day. There was a smile of deep satisfaction on John's own bronzed featuresas he put the question, a smile which was duplicated on the faces ofhis three co-workers--Paul, Bob, and Tom Meeks. It was the latter partof March, Easter vacation week for Paul and Bob, and the two chums hadbeen working every one of the last three days helping John and Tom putthe finishing touches on the big new airplane. And now this Fridaymorning it rested gracefully upon its own rubber-tired wheels, itsgreat stretch of wings spread out as airily as those of a monster bird, its huge two-bladed propeller glistening like burnished silver, and itsbody running backward in a splendid symmetrical taper, to end at thewell-proportioned tail. Sky-Bird II was done at last. Mr. Giddings was so lost in admiration at the beautiful lines of thecraft that he did not reply immediately to John's question. He had notseen it for almost two weeks, and in that time, under the onslaughts ofthe four boys, it had changed appearance in a striking way, numerousfinished parts having been connected and paint and varnish having beenapplied. "All I have to say, young men, is that if she performs anywhere near aswell as she looks, I shall be thoroughly satisfied with the money Ihave invested thus far, " declared the great newspaper man with anenthusiasm which he did not try to conceal. His eyes were shining, ashe walked around the craft looking at it from all sides. He rubbed hisfingers lingeringly over the smooth fuselage, and smiled quietly as heregarded the name "Sky-Bird II" lettered in large blue characters onher sides and underneath each long bird-like wing. Then he mounted afolding step and went through a neat door into the glass-surroundedcabin. This was deep enough to stand up in, and provided comfortableupholstered cane seats for the pilot and four passengers or assistants. All of these seats except the pilot's and observer's were convertible, forming supports for the swinging of as many hammocks, and in a smallspace at the rear was a neat little gasoline-burner, and over it abuilt-in cupboard containing some simple aluminum cooking ware. "Well, I declare!" said Mr. Giddings in amazement at the convenience ofthings, "it looks as if you fellows hadn't left out a single itemneeded in a long and enjoyable cruise. " "There's nothing like being fixed up for all emergencies, sir, " laughedJohn. "As you notice, we have everything for night-flying as well asday-flying. With such a machine as this there is no reason why a crewof four or five could not run nights as well as days, two operatingwhile the others sleep in the hammocks. Cold foods can be cooked orwarmed up on the gas-stove when needed, and the enclosed cabin protectsall hands from the worst effects of bad storms. " "Wouldn't this glass break in a hailstorm?" asked Mr. Giddings. "Itseems to be pretty thin. " "It is thin, " said Paul; "that is to give it lightness. It might checksome in a hailstorm, but it could not break out, as it is made of twolayers of glass between which is cemented a thin sheet of celluloid. " "I think you had two Liberty motors here in the hangar when I was herelast. I neglected to ask you the power of these, and what you need twofor, " observed Mr. Giddings. "I thought you said in the beginning thatyou considered one 400 horse-power engine of sufficient strength tocarry this plane at a fast clip. " "It is this way, sir, " responded John. "The regular big biplane of thebomber type carries two propellers with an engine for each propeller. If one motor fails them when flying, about all the other is good for isto make a landing with. By reason of the great lightness of ourairplane one good 400 horse-power motor is all we need for pullingpurposes. But suppose this should fail, as any motor might do? Wecould not continue, any more than the other fellow, and would have tovolplane to the ground. Again, suppose we wished to fly continuouslymore than twelve hours? We could not do so, as such a steady run wouldheat the best motor and ruin it. These two Liberty motors, which wehave, overcome all these troubles. Both are so arranged that a simpleswitch connects and disconnects either one with the propeller, and bothcan be put at work at the one time if needed in a bad storm. If onestalls, the other can immediately be thrown in and a forced landingobviated. Moreover, if we could get fuel when needed, with thisarrangement I am safe in saying we could fly steadily day and night, resting one motor and working its mate, for a week or more. " "What is this?" As he spoke the publisher touched a peculiar-lookinghelmet hanging from a hook near the pilot's seat. Bob laughed. "Why, don't you recognize the products of your talentedson, dad?" he cried, as he took the object down and clapped it over hisfather's iron-gray head. "That's my new wireless telephone headpiece, and right underneath it here is the mahogany cabinet containing thesending and receiving instruments. You see, these two wires run fromthe plug up to the receivers, there being one receiver in each side ofthe helmet, right over your ear, pressing against the ear tightly bymeans of a sponge-rubber gasket. " "A man looks like a padded football player with this thing on, " saidMr. Giddings with a smile. "Why is a helmet required at all?" "We wouldn't require it so much with these motors, as they are equippedwith a new kind of muffler which shuts out about four-fifths of thenoise other airplanes get, " explained Bob. "But for all that there arealways noises in airplanes; for instance, they say the whirr of thepropeller when it is revolving about 1450 revolutions per minute, or atthe full speed of this one, makes quite a roar; so you see the need ofthe helmet to shut out all undesirable sounds possible. In ordinaryplanes the crew cannot talk to each other except by using phones orputting their lips to each other's ears and yelling at the top of theirvoices, according to what John and Tom tell me. But we don't expect tohave that trouble in this enclosed cabin and with this new mufflerworking, do we, fellows?" "I'm sure we won't, " said John. "Not if I'm any judge, " grinned Tom. "Can you talk with a ground station when you're flying, say a couple ofmiles high?" asked Mr. Giddings, examining a transmitter attached to ayoked wire support which his son slipped over his shoulders. "Farther than that. With this particular vacuum tube, which willamplify sounds three or four times over any other I have tried, weexpect to talk with ground stations or other aircraft at a distance ofthree thousand miles. Notice what a simple thing it is, dad, " and Bobindicated a little glass bulb which looked a lot like an ordinaryincandescent light, but which had a peculiar arrangement of wires andsubstances inside. "Is the transmitter or receiver made just like the ordinary kind?"asked Mr. Giddings. "Practically the same, dad. The wireless transmitter, like that of thewire telephone, contains a sensitive diaphragm which your voice strikesand sets to vibrating. These vibrations compress and release a capsuleof carbon granules which agitate and set in motion an electricalcurrent in two magnets connecting with them. The magnets convey thesound-waves in the form of electrical waves, along wires out to the tipof each wing, where the wires hang down a little way. When a messagecomes in it is caught by a webbing of antennae wires in our wings. " "Then I suppose these sound-waves, in other words the words one speaks, run out of the end of these wires into the atmosphere?" "Exactly, sir, " agreed Bob. "That is, the electrical waves areprojected into the air and disturb this air in a way to make it pulsatein the same manner as your voice makes the diaphragm pulsate. Thesewaves are then carried through the atmosphere in every direction, andsooner or later reach the antennae wires of some station equipped toreceive them. Down these wires they dash, are registered and magnifiedin the wonderfully delicate vacuum tube, and from it are carried upinto the receivers at your ears. " "I should think they would be electrical impulses when they reach thereceivers, " argued Mr. Giddings. "How can a person hear _words_ fromelectrical discharges?" Bob smiled. "Easy enough, dad, " he went on. "You see, this vacuumtube does the business. The electrical current agitates this inunison, and the impulses are immediately converted into wordsagain, --and there you are!" "I acknowledge my understanding now, " admitted Mr. Giddings, with ahearty laugh; "but there's just one thing yet I want light on: Where doyou get your electrical current? It takes a dynamo to makeelectricity, else storage batteries. I don't see either. " "Come outside here a moment, dad. " Bob smiled as he led the little party out of the Sky-Bird's cabin. When they once more stood on the hangar floor, he pointed to a peculiarT-shaped object just beneath the nose of the airplane. This hadescaped the gentleman's observation until now. "It looks like a small propeller with a torpedo sticking out from themiddle of it, " laughed Mr. Giddings. "So it does, dad, " agreed Bob. "Well, that's our wireless dynamo. Youwill notice that the propeller faces ahead, like the big fellow here. When the airplane is flying, the rush of wind spins the fan at aterrific rate, its axle operates a little dynamo in this torpedo-likecase and manufactures electric current. The current then passes intothis small apparatus here with a bulb attached, which regulates thevoltage and sends it up to the instruments in a uniform flow, no matterat what speed the airplane may be going. " "That's a cheap way of getting current, " declared the newspaper man, "and a mighty good one, too. " He now changed the subject by asking:"How much do you suppose this machine weighs?" "I have been in smaller ones which weighed, unloaded, as much as threethousand pounds, " admitted John Ross, with a peculiar smile. "Put yourhands under the Sky-Bird's nose here and see if you can lift her, Mr. Giddings. " "Don't joke that way, John, " expostulated Mr. Giddings. "Why, herengines are right above this portion of her, and I couldn't lift one ofthem alone. " "Just try it anyhow, dad, " persisted Bob, who also wore that queersmile. More to accommodate them than because he expected to accomplishanything, the publisher half-heartedly braced himself in a crouchingposition and pushed upward on the airplane's front. To his amazementthe whole forward part of the machine rose upward a foot in the air, asif it were made of paper. "My word!" exclaimed Mr. Giddings, letting the craft back upon itswheels. "Who would have thought such a thing? I had faith in thisprinciple of the hollow wings and helium-gas, boys, but I never thoughtit could reduce the normal weight of the plane to such a vast extent, It is truly a wonderful idea. " "You might not believe it, but the Sky-Bird weighs less than twohundred pounds as she stands, " said Paul. "Just before you came today, Mr. Giddings, Bob and I, one at each end, easily lifted her clear offthe floor. " "It's what we aimed for, and we've got it, " added John withsatisfaction, while Tom Meeks nodded his head and ejaculated, "I'd sayso! I'd say so!" his whole broad face abeam. "This feather lightnessmeans great lift, great speed, and great cruising range. " "I should think so surely, " was the decided response of the newspaperman. "I notice you have installed that 'automatic pilot' too. Andwhat's that up here in front on top of the cabin? A searchlight, as Ilive!" "Yes, dad, " said Bob; "we thought that would be a good thing in case wedo any night traveling on this tour of the world. It ought to havegood power, being operated with current from the storage batteries ofthe wireless wind-dynamo. " After a little more inspection and further questions, Mr. Giddings tookhis departure, promising to be on hand at the hangar the followingmorning for the test flight. CHAPTER IX THE TEST FLIGHT John, Paul, and Tom reached the fairgrounds a good full hour ahead ofthe scheduled start that Saturday morning. In fact, Mrs. Ross hadgiven them an earlier breakfast than usual, so that they could give theSky-Bird II a general going over before it came time for her to makeher initial flight. Of course all three young men were a good deal excited, although theywere careful not to let each other know it, for fear of being thetarget for a little fun from the others. In this effort at reserve, the irrepressible Tom was the least successful of the trio, as might beexpected, and when he caught John and Paul slyly winking at each otherand glancing in his direction as he nervously tried the same controlfor the third time, he blurted out: "Oh, you fellows needn't laugh atme! You're just as much on edge as I am, now that we're really goingto fly this old bird!" "Come, Tom, don't try to cover up your nervousness by accusing us ofthe same thing, " protested Paul. "You're as agitated as a young kid with his first electric toy train, Tom, " laughed John. "How much gasoline have we got in the tanks now?" "The gauge shows ten gallons, " said Tom, bending down and looking atthe instrument-board in front of the pilot's seat. "That isn't enough for a decent flight, " declared John. "We'llprobably be out for at least an hour, and we may use as much as fifteengallons in that time; that's about half the consumption of ordinaryairplanes, you know. We'll shove in twenty gallons more so as to be onthe safe side. " "We haven't put in any oil yet, " reminded Tom. "We'd better put inabout two gallons, I should say. Most planes use about a half-gallonto the hour; if we use half as much, that will give us plenty ofgrease. " The tanks were in the lower part of the forward fuselage. With thecaps removed, a hose was inserted by Paul, and then John forced thegasoline up by a small but powerful handpump until the gauge told thatthe required additional twenty gallons were in. The same pump wouldwork with the oil also, and soon the viscid fluid had been transferredfrom the storage can on the hangar floor to its proper tank in theairplane. Thence it would feed itself up into the carbureter of theworking engine by a force-pump attached to the engine, as with thegasoline. The boys had just finished putting in the fuel when Mr. Giddings andBob drove up in the former's automobile. "I expect this is a great day for you young men?" said the publisher, with a smile of greeting to all. "I know it is a time I have lookedforward to myself for a good many months, --ever since I accepted thechallenge of the _Clarion_, in fact. Is the Sky-Bird supplied withgasoline?" "Yes, sir, " said John; "we just got through with that job. We haveeasily enough fuel aboard now for a couple of hours' flight, and thatwill be long enough for a first one. New engines are always 'stiff'and should not be run too long at a stretch. " "Have you run this pair yet?" "Oh, yes, " said Bob. "We have tried them out several times, dad, andin connection with the propeller, too. They work tip-top, eitherconnected or disconnected. I tell you, when they're in connection theycertainly do make this big propeller hum!" "I can't understand how you can operate the propeller in here, " saidMr. Giddings, much puzzled. "All the airplanes I have seen have alwaysdashed forward as soon as their propellers began to revolve underimpulse of the motor or motors; there was no restraining them. Ishould think this machine would run through the front end of the hangarhere as soon as you--" "Pardon me, sir, " interrupted John, "but we have gone those fellows onebetter. You forget that in the drawings we showed you there was a setof brakes designed to be worked by a control within reach of the pilot, brakes which will engage these ground wheels a good deal the same asbrakes work on automobiles--by a flexible band of steel and grit-filledcotton which is made to compress over a large sort of hub on the innerside of each wheel. " "Very good, " said Mr. Giddings; "but I understand that has been triedbefore, with the result that the airplane at once tipped forward andstuck its nose into the ground, or rather tried to, smashing itspropeller to smithereens. " "They will do that every time unless something has been devised tocounteract this tendency to pitch over, " explained John. "We havedevised the thing to prevent it, Mr. Giddings. " "See here, dad, " put in Bob at this point. "Stoop down a bit and lookunder the forward end of the body here. " His father did as requested, and Bob pointed out a circular openingabout the size of a saucer, from which protruded the end of analuminum-encased shaft bearing a small rubber-tired wheel of verysturdy proportions. "That is our preventer, dad, " smiled his son. "In a few minutes we'll show you how it works, " added John Ross. "Isee you are wearing a cap, sir, as I suggested. That is all thespecial dress you will need, as our enclosed cabin makes helmets andclose bundling unnecessary. We fellows will wear our regular workingtogs. " Everything being in readiness, the four young men easily pushed the bigairplane out of the building and to a place where it would have asmooth runway for a hundred yards ahead. The weather was ideal for thetrip. There was little wind, and the few strato-cumulus clouds whichwere visible showed great stretches of azure-blue sky between them. "Everybody climb in, " ordered Tom, with a wave of his hand. "I'llcrank her up. You take the joy-stick, John. " All hands complied. Then Tom began to turn the big burnishedpropeller, just as John threw a lever from the inside which caused theauxiliary ground wheel to shoot down and engage the sod. At the sametime the movement of another lever by Paul set the airplane's brakes. Several times Tom turned the propeller around. Then, with a pop, theengine cylinders began to fire, Tom jumped swiftly back, and thepropeller whirred like a mad thing. At the same time the Sky-Bird gavea start, as though to dash forward; but beyond a steady, slightvibration of her whole body, as Tom slowed down the motor to fourhundred revolutions per minute, there was no indication to her inmatesthat she was straining to get away. Tom now quietly mounted the step, and came into the cabin, pulling the step up after him and closing theself-locking door. "That shows you how this third ground wheel acts, dad!" cried Bobtriumphantly to his father, who sat in a chair adjoining. "Now watchthe old girl jump ahead when Paul throws back the brake lever and hisbrother lifts the third wheel and gives her more gas!" The changes were made even as he spoke; the propeller's hum grew into amild roar through the cabin walls, and the Sky-Bird leaped away overthe ground, gaining momentum at every yard. To the surprise of eventwo such veteran flyers as John Ross and Tom Meeks, the airplane hadgone less than fifty yards when she began to rise as gracefully as aswallow in response to her up-turned ailerons and elevators. In lessthan ten seconds she was well up over the fair-grounds, and the roofsof all the buildings in the neighborhood were seen below them. John kept the machine mounting at a good angle until the altimetershowed them to be up two thousand feet. Then he straightened out theailerons and elevators, and began to run on a level keel. The otherinmates of the cabin noticed, by looking through the observationwindows, that he was gradually bearing in a great circle about the townof Yonkers. Off to the northwestward were the rugged blue crags of theCatskills, covered with patches of milk-white snow, and just in front, winding like a huge serpent among the picturesque foothills, was thesparkling Hudson, dwindling away to a mere silver thread in the north, tapering away in the same manner toward the south, where it lapped thepiers of the city of New York and immediately afterward lost itself inthe waters of the Upper Bay. Although the great skyscrapers of the bigcity itself could be dimly seen, they looked very small at thatdistance. Directly below them our friends could make out the familiar buildingsand landmarks of their own town as they swept past one by one, Johnpurposely flying at reduced speed so that a clearer vision could behad. He also shot down to within a thousand feet, presently, as he sawhis own home approaching. Someone, whom both John and Paul immediatelyrecognized as their mother, stood in the door waving a handkerchief. In recognition, Paul drew down one of the sliding windows, and put outhis head and fluttered his own handkerchief. Shortly afterward--itseemed not more than a minute--the machine was over Shadynook Hill, andBob and his father were waving a similar salute to Mrs. Giddings. As they swept on, men and women and children could be seen looking upfrom the streets beneath. Most of these people were used to seeingairplanes, but obviously the bright finish of the Sky-Bird II, and itsstriking eagle-like appearance created more than passing notice. Those in the cabin were amazed to note how effectually the new mufflerand the walls of the cabin shut out the sounds of operation. It wasvery easy for them to talk back and forth with each other by using afairly strong pitch of voice, even when the machine was running at agood rate, as it now began to do, for John once more gave the enginemore gas, and turned the airplane skyward. Up, up they shot like arocket. The hand on the dial of the altimeter moved along steadily--itreached 2 again, passed to 3, 4, 5, 6; the earth seemed literally to befalling away from them. All at once, when they were between six andseven thousand feet high, and watching the minute patches of color farbelow, which represented buildings, houses, hills, and the like, theseobjects were swept away, and through the glass plates of the cabinfloor they could see nothing but a gray vapor below them. It was alsoaround them. "We're passing up through a cloud, " said Bob to his father, who hadnever been in an airplane before. A moment or two later, the boyadded, as the blue sky could once more be seen below, "Now we're aboveit, dad. " "It seems to be getting colder, " remarked Mr. Giddings. "It always gets colder the higher one goes, " informed Paul. "I hope you're not getting cold feet, dad?" grinned Bob. "Oh, I'm comfortable, thank you, " laughed his father. "Say, son, isn'tthis as good a time as any to try out the merits of that wireless'phone of yours? Can you work it from this height?" "I don't know why I can't--and three times higher, " Bob said; "we'lltry it right now. When I left home I told Sis to mind the set there inmy room, and watch for my signal. We'll see now if I can get in touchwith her. " So saying, Bob put on the wireless helmet, threw the switch, and keptrepeating, "Hello, Sis! hello, Sis! hello, Sis!" for a few moments inthe transmitter. Then he said, after a brief silence: "I get you, Betty. Won't answer you now, as I want dad to talk to you. " With that Bob smiled, removed the headpiece, and slipped it over hisfather's head, exchanging seats with him. Mr. Giddings now heard a voice--the voice of his own daughter--askingquite distinctly: "Do you hear me, daddie?" "I certainly do, Betty, " said he; "where are you?" "Here at home--up in Robert's room. I never thought I'd be sometimetalking with you when you were flying through the air. Mother justcalled upstairs and says she can't see the Sky-Bird any longer. Whereare you now?" "Up above the clouds somewhere just north of Yonkers, " replied Mr. Giddings laconically. "Oh, goodness! I must run right down and tell mother. Please don't gotoo high or too far, daddie, will you?" came the clearly agitated tonesof the daughter. "Is Robert all right?" "Indeed he is. We'll soon be back with you and tell you all about it. Everything is working perfectly. Good-bye, Betty!" And Mr. Giddings arose with a pleased laugh, and hung up the helmet. "I'll take off my hat to you, Robert, " he said. "I never thought yourfussing at home all these years with electric batteries, buzzers, andwhat not, would amount to anything like this. " The Sky-Bird II was now running straight ahead with the speed of thewind, John giving the craft more and more gas, and crowding her prettyclose to the limit. The wind swept by both sides of the streamlikecabin with a rushing sound like the distant roar of a huge cataract;the flexible window glass gave slightly to its pressure, but there wasno sign of it breaking. One minute they were in the midst of a cumuluscloud; the next, through it. Now they saw the faint outline of theearth, now sky; now the earth was screened by cloud, but above were theblue heavens. "Guess how fast we're making it now?" cried John, one eye on the dialwhich connected with the propeller-shaft. "A hundred miles, " ventured Mr. Giddings. "Hundred and thirty, " guessed Paul and Bob. "Hundred and eighty, " stated the more experienced Tom. "All too low, " said John. "We're going just exactly two hundred andfifty, if this speedometer doesn't lie!" He now announced that he was going to throw in the idle engine. Thiswas done successfully, and under the extra power they were soon makingthe remarkable speed of three hundred miles an hour! John then slowedup and disconnected first one motor and then the other, the airplanecontinuing to fly with unimpaired smoothness. As a last test, he dropped to a level of three thousand feet, at whichtime they were considerably north of Albany, and throwing theautomatic-pilot into operation calmly removed his hands and feet fromevery control except the rudder. In this fashion they ran for fifteenor twenty miles on a perfectly even keel, the apparatus automaticallyworking the elevators and ailerons of the craft as various windcurrents tended to disturb its equilibrium. At length, John gave alittle twist to the rudder, and the way the Sky-Bird began to circle, and to bank of her own accord, was a splendid sight to behold. Nohawk, sailing over a barnyard in quest of an unwary fowl, could haveperformed the trick more beautifully. As the flyers now headed for home they were all much elated at thesuccess of the first flight of the new airplane. And as it gracefullyswooped down into the fair-grounds a little later, coming to a stop ina surprisingly short run over the ground owing to her braking feature, this elation was increased. CHAPTER X FINAL PREPARATIONS After getting out of the airplane, Mr. Giddings was thoughtful for someminutes. Nor did he speak until the boys had pushed the machine intothe hangar. Then he said, with deep earnestness: "Young men, a great load has been removed from my mind by this recentperformance of the Sky-Bird II. I have now not the slightest doubts ofher adaptability to make a round-the-world trip, and if she performsthen as she did this morning, we are not only going to defeat the_Clarion_'s crew, but we are going to smash all existing records for ajourney of the kind. I wish to know if you really think you couldoperate this machine steadily night and day, say for a couple of weeks, stopping only for fuel and food?" "By alternating the engines--yes, sir; no doubt of it, " declared JohnRoss without a moment's hesitation, while Tom Meeks nodded his frowsyhead energetically. "Then, " said Mr. Giddings, "you may consider that's what the entirefour of you will have to do in a few months, as soon as we can pick outa route and get fuel supplies at the different airports or stops foryou. John, you and Tom may consider yourselves under salary right onuntil after this race; there will be enough for you to do, helping mewith arrangements and taking care of the airplane. " "Well, but how about Paul and me, dad?" broke in Bob anxiously; "aren'twe going to have anything to do?" "Oh, you two will have enough to do going to school, I think, " laughedMr. Giddings; "but, to satisfy you, I will let you both help John andTom select a route and make out a schedule. Do this just as soon asyou can, so that I may be able to give Mr. Wrenn, the publisher of the_Clarion_, a copy. He can then make intelligent preparations for hisown crew. I am going to give my rival every consideration in thismatter, so that he cannot do any howling if we beat him. It must be anout-and-out fair race, do you understand?" All nodded. "Have you heard anything about the other crew yet, Mr. Giddings?"inquired Paul. "I mean, do you know what sort of a craft they aregoing to use, or who is going to fly against us?" "I am as much in the dark about those points as you young men, " was thereply. "I judge that Mr. Wrenn, who is an astute business man, willkeep us in ignorance of his personnel until the last minute. The factis, I am going to treat him to a dose of his own medicine in thisrespect. So be careful not to let the public get close to thismachine, and talk with no one about it. " With that the publisher and Bob drove home, but the latter came back inthe afternoon, and all four young men immediately repaired to theYonkers Public Library with a blank tablet, there to work out the routeand schedule. It was no easy task. In the first place, they wished the route to beas close to the equator at all times as possible, so that their line oftravel would approximate in distance the world's estimatedcircumference of 24, 899 miles. In the second place, for stops theymust choose cities or towns with either established landing-fields, orwith grounds level enough for this purpose. In the third place, theseairports must be so divided that they would not have to be visitedduring the hours of darkness, for few if any of them would be likely tohave efficient enough lighting systems to make night landings safe. Within fifteen minutes the boys had the long table in front of themliterally covered with geographies, atlases, loose maps, andencyclopaedias. Paul even brought up a globe as large as a pumpkin, while Bob was not content until he had secured a score of back numbersof travel magazines. Into this divers collection of diagrams andreading matter they dove with an avidity which would have surprised theteachers they had when they were in grammar school, if they could haveseen them. It soon became evident that they would not only need aroute and schedule to make their journey successful, but also anenormous amount of general information about the countries they wouldpass over. "We'll have to study trade winds, oceanic storm conditions, temperatures, inhabitants, topography, and so forth, and so forth, "drawled Tom Meeks. "Say, fellows, I feel like kicking myself to thinkI didn't study my geography more and shoot paper-wads less, when I wasa kid at school. " "We'll have to do a lot of cramming, that's sure, " averred John; "butwe have several months for that. Just now we want to jump into thisroute and schedule. " They made up several tentative routes, only to discard them. Finally, after several hours' work, they had one which everybody seemed to agreewas the best that could be picked out. With the schedule, which wasfigured on the basis of 120 miles an hour airplane speed, the draftlooked like this: _Miles Airport Arrive Leave_ ---- PANAMA ------------ 1:00p 20th 1672 Georgetown 5:30a 21st 7:30a 21st 1154 Para 6:00p 21st 9:00p 21st 2402 Freetown 6:15p 22d 9:15p 22d 1980 Kuka 1:00p 23d 8:00p 23d 2015 Aden 6:00a 24th 9:00a 24th 2116 Colombo 5:30a 25th 8:30a 25th 1612 Singapore 6:00p 25th 9:00p 25th 2218 Port Darwin 5:30p 26th 8:30p 26th 3826 Apia 5:45a *27th 8:45a 27th 2100 Nukahiva 9:00a 28th 12:00n 28th 3154 San Cristobal 6:00p 29th 9:00p 29th 650 PANAMA 5:30a 30th ------------- ----- 24899 * Gain of 1 day by reason of crossing 180th Meridian, or InternationalDate Line, between Port Darwin and Apia. Bob Giddings carried home a copy of this schedule, and the followingMonday morning all four young men met by appointment in the privateoffice of the publisher of the _Daily Independent_. After they wereseated, Mr. Giddings brought forth the tentative draft, studied it afew moments, and then asked: "What is your fuel capacity, boys?" "Our tanks will hold enough gasoline and oil to carry us a littlebetter than five thousand miles, throttled down to an average of onehundred and twenty miles an hour, the basis on which we figured outthis schedule, sir, " answered John. "Would it make a difference if you flew faster than that?" "Oh, yes, " said John; "the faster a pilot flies the more fuel he usesper mile. Full out--that is, going at the limit of her speed--theSky-Bird probably would not cover more than three-thousand miles. " "I am glad to know this, " said Mr. Giddings. "I see that your cruisingradius is sufficient to cover your longest jumps at any reasonablespeed. Let me see; you allow yourselves three hours' stop at eachairport; will that be long enough?" "Plenty, sir, " said Tom; "we figure that we can easily refuel in thattime, and attend to any local affairs we may have. " "I notice your total mileage is exactly equal to the estimatedcircumference of the world, " remarked the publisher. "That shows greatcare in the selection of this route to meet my viewpoint; but may I askhow you know your distances between airports, as here recorded, arecorrect? From whence did you get these mileages?" "Bob and I figured them out, sir, " spoke up Paul. "How?" "Why, like this, dad, " explained Bob. "We knew there were 360 degreesto the world; we divided the circumference of 24, 899 miles by 360, andobtained approximately 69. 5 miles to a degree. By taking a map of theworld and finding the number of degrees between any two airports it wasnot difficult to come pretty close to the actual distance in milesbetween them. " "Very good; very good, indeed, " approved his father. "I think I havethe right sort of men on this job. But here is another thing whichoccurs to me: Have you based your time of arrival and leaving at eachport upon local time or New York time?" "Local time, " stated Paul. "If we had not done so we could not havearranged the schedule with any accuracy at all, as regards daylight anddarkness and the lapping of time. With our watches set to New Yorktime, we might expect to land at a station in broad daylight, only tofind that we were really coming in after dark. Another thing: Ourfiguring showed us that the lappages of time, all added together, exactly totaled one day of twenty-four hours, which we gain bytraveling eastward. So, while the schedule on a calendar at home wouldonly show ten days which we would be gone, we would in reality be awayone day longer, or eleven. " "Your local times may be wrong, " hinted Mr. Giddings. "I don't think so, sir; we proved them correct, " stated Paul, withconviction. "How?" "After the same method we used in getting the mileage, sir. You see, we knew that time eastward keeps getting later, and that this rate isfour minutes to every degree. We just counted the degrees betweenplaces and figured it out on that basis. " "Splendid!" exclaimed Mr. Giddings, who was far from as ignorant ofthese processes as he led his visitors to suppose. "Boys, I wish tocompliment you very highly upon this piece of work. When I firstlooked at the schedule and saw that an airplane meeting itsrequirements would make this trip squarely around the world in sevenand a half hours less than ten days I could scarcely credit my senses, and I figured it all over to make sure you had made no mistake. Ifound out you had not. If you can maintain an average speed of onehundred and twenty miles, and can make up any unforeseen delays bygreater speed, I must admit it really looks possible for you to be backinside of ten days. That is better than I actually hoped for, youngmen, --far better! In fact the situation, as I view it, containswonderful opportunities for both newspapers in the way of sales andadvertising. I do not doubt but that I can handle this affair in sucha manner that I can afford to give each of you five thousand dollars ifyou make the journey within these ten days. " "Five thousand dollars!" cried our friends in unison, while Bobexploded: "But, dad, just how do you figure this out?" "Mr. Wrenn and I will exploit this contest in our newspapers--let thewhole universe know that it is coming off; advise the people that theaviators are to be provided with the most modern airplanes, andequipped with wireless by means of which they will keep us informedfrequently of their whereabouts; that they will have cameras and sendus pictures; that these bulletins shall be issued in extra editions ofour newspapers at least three or four times a day; and to cap theclimax, we will put up large bulletin boards in front of our buildings, on which there will be painted a chart of the trip, showing everyscheduled stop, country, and ocean crossed. This will be electricallylighted at night, and as you boys fly in your machine away off in somedistant part of the world, our bulletin board operators will followyour course on their huge charts, and represent you with a miniatureairplane. In fact, I plan to get the _Clarion_ to 'phone over reportsof their crew as fast as received, I doing likewise with them, and thenwe can have two dummy airplanes on each of our boards, showing the racein earnest at all stages of the journey. This would cause greatexcitement to the street onlookers. All in all, it would make ournewspapers the most talked about in the whole country, we would gainthousands of new subscribers, millions of extras would be sold, thousands of dollars' worth of new advertising contracts could be made, and our present rates increased on account of our new prestige. Now, you see, it will be up to you young men to keep our office suppliedwith your whereabouts as often as you can. Do that, and beat our rivalcrew, and I shall be pretty well satisfied if you don't quite make thetrip in ten days. " "We will do our part, sir, " responded John, speaking for all. There was a little further talk; and then they took their leave, wellsatisfied with the turn of events, and each determined to win his fivethousand dollar trophy if it were at all possible. CHAPTER XI OFF FOR PANAMA That same afternoon Mr. Giddings called upon his business rival, Mr. Wrenn, of the _Clarion_, and presented to him the tentative program forthe great race around the world's girdle, as the _Daily Independent_had planned it. Mr. Wrenn declared that he was willing to stand by hisformer agreement to allow the _Independent_ to select the route, andsaid it was entirely satisfactory to him, and that he would at oncetake steps to have fuel supplies on hand at the various airports forhis crew when they should arrive. He made no comments as to his ownairplane, but agreed that the advertising plan his caller had workedout was a capital one, stating that he would co-operate heartily withhim in carrying it to a successful conclusion. Mr. Giddings was considerably surprised that Mr. Wrenn made noobjection to the longest "hops" on the route, which were of greaterextent than the average airplane could make, and was ready to modifythe arrangement if there had been any objection. But even when heparticularly called this matter to the other publisher's attention, Mr. Wrenn only smiled serenely, saying, "Those hops are perfectlysatisfactory to us, " leaving Mr. Giddings with a deep wonderment as towhat sort of aircraft the _Clarion_ proposed using. "I am under the impression that our contemporary has something up hissleeve, but I cannot conceive what it can be, " Mr. Giddings confided tohis son that evening upon reaching home; and when Bob repeated this tothe Ross boys and Tom Meeks next day, they too began to wonder morethan ever what type of an airplane the _Clarion_ proposed using againstthem, and who the crew might be. "Did your father and Mr. Wrenn decide upon a date for the start?" askedPaul. "Yes, " replied Bob; "they made it the 20th of July, this summer, weather permitting. We start from Panama at one o'clock in theafternoon. " "Our curiosity as to the identity of our competitors will be satisfiedthen, at least, " laughed John. "And their curiosity, too!" put in Tom. "I'll stake my last centthey're just as much in the dark about us and the Sky-Bird II as we areabout their outfit. " "We'll hope so, anyhow, " remarked Bob; "but ever since we had thoseblue-prints stolen, and found we had a stranger sneaking around thehangar, I've been uneasy. " At this reference, all the young men felt a strange oppression. Theyhad talked over it more than once, and each time it had left them witha sense of peril to their interests, why they could not tell. Asbefore, they now tried to laugh it off, and began to talk about othersubjects. There was still considerable to do in the way of preparing the Sky-Birdand themselves for the long trip, and for weeks all four boys were kepthustling to make the final installations of accessories and equipment. Bob rigged up a wireless telegraph in connection with his telephoneset, and for protection, four good repeating rifles and an automaticshotgun were put in racks in the after-cabin, while each fellowprovided himself with an automatic revolver which he would carry in aholster attached to a belt. Medium-weight flying suits, with a heavy, wool-lined coat to slip on in case they flew very high, and trim flyingboots and soft gloves, made up the personal toggery. Whenever the boys found a chance they went to the public library andabsorbed all the knowledge they could about the countries over whichthey would pass and the places at which they were destined to stop. Bywriting to the authorities in these localities, Mr. Giddings alsosecured much valuable information for them as to present weatherconditions and landing-fields--information which was furthersupplemented by numerous special airway maps supplied by the Aero Clubof America and similar aviation organizations in foreign countries. From these maps Paul worked out a very clear chart of their own coursefrom beginning to end. A copy was given to each of the newspaperpublishers concerned, to reproduce on their large electric streetboards, and another was framed and placed immediately in front of thepilot's seat in the cabin of the Sky-Bird II. All this time the columns of the _Daily Independent_ and the _Clarion_contained frequent vivid references to features of the trip calculatedto awaken the interest of the public, and as the time slipped alonginto July, the attention of people all over the land was centered uponthe forthcoming contest, and it became the principal subject forcomment. The secrecy maintained by both principals as to the kind ofaircraft to be used, and the mystery as to identity of the members ofthe respective crews, only whetted curiosity and interest the more, asthe sharp newspaper men knew it would. Every man, woman, and child inthe wide world seemed to be eagerly waiting for the moment to come whenhe or she would see the promised pictures of the bold aviators andtheir machines in the big newspapers, and hear that they had made theirfirst jump eastward from Panama. All being in readiness, at daybreak on the morning of July 16th theRoss boys and Tom Meeks appeared at the Sky-Bird's hangar, and pushedthe airplane outside. As they were doing so, Mr. Giddings and Bobjoined them. The publisher had planned to accompany his crew to Panamain the machine, to see them officially off, while his reporters madethe journey by train, in company with the writing force of the rivalpaper. "We'll keep the time of our going secret, leaving before people aregenerally up, " Mr. Giddings had said to the boys; "and by going on the16th we'll not only be ahead of their smart calculations, but we shallhave about half a week to rest up and see the country down there beforeyou begin your strenuous journey. I need a little vacation anyway, soI will accompany you. We will stop off at Miami on the way, and enjoysome big-game fishing in the Florida waters with some of my friends. " So the young men were very much excited and eager to be off thismorning of the 16th, you may be sure. The Sky-Bird was tuned up alittle to make certain she was in first-class condition, then they allclimbed in and the big glistening creature of wood, metal, and silkshot up into the air. It would probably be close to three weeks beforethey would see that familiar field and hangar again, and in that timeif all went well they would circle the huge globe upon which they andtheir fellow-men lived. It was truly a most inspiring thought--one tohave filled less phlegmatic blood than theirs with the wildestpulsations! The weather was not at all promising, masses of gray nimbus-cloudthreatening to shut out the sun as it arose, with a promise ofuncertain winds, if not rain; but John and Tom declared the conditionsall the better for giving the machine a good test-out. They climbed slowly upward through the cheerless, mist-laden skies, theengine well throttled back and running as smoothly as any engine could. To make sure that all was in perfect working order, they circled forten minutes over the town, trying the different controls, then turnedthe Sky-Bird southward. At two thousand feet they suddenly emerged from the fog belt intobrilliant sunshine, but the world below was lost to sight, screened bya dense pall of mist. Accordingly, Tom Meeks, who was acting as pilot, set a compass course for Cape Hatteras, the first guide-post along theAtlantic coast, some five hundred miles distant. After an hour'ssteady running, John took the throttle, followed later by Bob, andfinally Paul. It was a new sensation to the last-named youths to bepiloting the airplane out of view of the earth's surface, relyingsolely for safety and position upon the compass and altimeter, andknowing that somewhere far below them swept the rolling billows of theocean; but they enjoyed it immensely. Finally, just as John declared they ought to be close to theirobjective, the winds freshened and made a great rift in the fog belowthem, through which they could plainly see the grand old Carolinacoast-line a little way ahead and to their right. Between the mainshore and the long spine-like series of reefs constituting the capeitself, sparkled the waters of numerous sounds, while theweather-beaten lighthouse on the extreme elbow of Hatteras stood outlike a stick of white chalk against the rocky gray background of itssupport. All were delighted with the accuracy with which they had made theirfirst guide-post, as John and Mr. Giddings checked their bearings onthe chart. The Sky-Bird had behaved splendidly so far, and if shecontinued in that way they ought to reach their destination well beforenightfall, even at the reduced speed at which they had been flying, which had averaged not much more than a hundred miles an hour. It now became a question whether they should leisurely follow along theinwardly curving coast-line, taking in Savannah, Charleston, andJacksonville, as guide-posts, or save a hundred miles or more by flyingstraight across the waters to Miami. As they wished to test out eachmember's ability to operate by compass rather than by landmarks, it wasdecided to take the shorter route. So gradually they left the ruggedAmerican shore behind and swept farther and farther out to sea. The Sky-Bird II was flying as steady as a rock. All the bracing wireswere tuned to a nicety, the wind humming through them and along thesmooth sides of the great creature's body with a whistling monotonewhich arose and fell with bewitching rhythm as the force fluctuated. The varnish and fire-proofing compound glistened brightly in thesunshine, attracting the attention of numerous seabirds, mostly gullsand ospreys, which followed them at times for short distances, only tobe outdistanced. The engine was running at less than half its possiblespeed, and purring like a contented kitten after a meal of fresh milk. The clouds and fog had cleared away; the sky was as bright now as a skyever gets; far beneath, the blue-green waters of the Atlantic, fleckedwith white-topped waves, spread on all sides. Two torpedo-boats, looking like toys, went northward, and tiny white waving specks showedthat the Jacks aboard were waving a salute to them. Off seaward ablack trailing blot against the horizon showed where some unseensteamship plowed her way between ports. Mr. Giddings and the boys werefilled with admiration. A small airplane is ideal for short flights, joyriding the heavens, orsight-seeing among the clouds; but there is something more majestic andstable about a big machine like the Sky-Bird II which a pilot soonbegins to love with a passion he never feels toward the little 'plane. An exquisite community of spirit grows up between machine and pilot;each, as it were, merges into the vitals of the other. The levers andcontrols are the nervous system of the airplane, through which the willof the aviator may be expressed--expressed in an infinitely finedegree. Indeed, a flying-machine is something entirely apart from andabove all other contrivances of man's ingenuity. It is the nearestthing to animate life which man has created. In the air an airplaneceases to be a mere piece of dumb mechanism; it seems to throb withfeeling, and is capable not only of primary guidance and control, butactually of expressing a pilot's temperament. The lungs of the machine--its engines--are the crux of man's mechanicalwisdom and skill. Their marvelous reliability and intricacy are almostas awesome as the human anatomy. When both engines are going well, andsynchronized to the same speed, the roar of the exhausts develops intoone long-sustained and not inharmonious _boom-m-m-m-m!_ It is a songof pleasant melody to the pilot, whose ear is ever pricked to catch thefirst semblance of a "sharp" or "flat" note telling him that one ormore of the twelve cylinders of each busy engine is missing fire andneeds a little doctoring. It was about four o'clock that afternoon when our party first sightedthe low, out-jutting sea-coast of Florida. As they came slowly towardit, by reason of their angular course of approach, they could graduallymake out a group of green palms here and there along the whitestretches of sand, and see clusters of light-colored buildings, piers, shipping, and people moving about. Thus they passed Juno and PalmBeach, and then saw the thicker cluster of fine dwellings of Miamiitself, the most southerly city on the Florida mainland. Paul was guiding the Sky-Bird at this time, and turned her across thelimpid waters of Biscayne Bay, cutting a huge circle above the town andslowly swooping downward toward the broad white beach, as he picked outa level stretch for landing. Townspeople who had been watching thestrange airplane, so much like a great bird, now ran forward to see itland. A moment later, with a graceful drop and upward curve, it struck thesandy beach and ran forward lightly until the brakes were applied andit was brought to a standstill. CHAPTER XII FIGHTING A DEVIL-FISH Many questions were asked our friends by the onlookers, but they gavethem evasive replies, being careful to let out no hint as to their realidentity and connection with the approaching race around the world. Two husky negroes were engaged to watch the airplane until relievedfrom such responsibility, and Mr. Giddings then led the boys to thehome of a Mr. Choate, a close and trusted friend and superintendent ofthe big Miami Aquarium, one of the most noted repositories for livefish in the country. Mr. Choate was astonished beyond measure when he learned that his oldfriend had come in the big airplane which he and his wife had noticedover the town a short time before, and was still further surprised whenMr. Giddings bound him to secrecy and told him that the young men withhim constituted the crew of one of the two airplanes which was so soonto circle the earth by way of the equator. He shook hands warmly withthem, and with his charming wife made them all very much at home. Than Mr. Choate, no man in the South knew more about the multitudinousvarieties of fish inhabiting Florida waters. He was not only anauthority on them, but he was also recognized as a most skillfulcatcher of fish. For over an hour that evening he told them absorbingstories of the habits of Gulf Stream denizens, and recited stirringtales of battles with some of the biggest of them. And when he finallyannounced, "To-morrow I shall see that you are given a taste of ourwonderful fish-life by joining me in a fishing expedition, " they couldhardly get to sleep for thinking of the fine prospect. After breakfast the next morning, their host conducted them down to thewaterside and into the beautiful white concrete buildings of theaquarium, and here he proceeded to show them, swimming about in greatglass tanks, the most wonderful collection of fish they had ever seenoutside of the big New York aquarium itself. "You probably never realized before, " said Mr. Choate, "that in thewarm waters of the Gulf Stream, between Miami and Key West, more than600 varieties of fish are to be found. They vary in size all the wayfrom the tiny sea-horse, the size of a baby's little finger, to thegreat tarpon and killer-whale, the latter a vicious creature weighingmany tons and large enough to swallow a good-sized boy without scrapingthe buttons off his jacket. " "It must be a lot of sport to catch some of these fairly big fish, "remarked John Ross. "Well, this afternoon I shall take you fellows where you can all have achance at them, " said Mr. Choate with a smile. "It would beinteresting to have a motion-picture record of the thoughts which flashthrough the mind of the average inland fisherman the first time hefeels the tiger-like swoop of a five-foot barrancuda, the fierce yankof a hundred-pound amber-jack, or the sullen surge of a big grouper onhis line; for even when armed with the heaviest rod, and a line as bigaround as a silver dollar, he is pretty sure to wish, at leastsubconsciously, that his tackle might be twice as formidable and hisarm twice as strong. Just imagine yourself, for instance, out in theclear blue waters of the Gulf Stream, looking overboard at your baitedhook thirty feet below, which you can see as plainly as if it were inno water at all. Then up comes a great jewfish, which is just aslikely to weigh five hundred pounds as fifty, and to be as large as agood-sized Shetland pony, and he makes a lunge for your bait, and--Well, you can go right on imagining the rest, too. " In all, they visited a half-hundred tanks of fish before they werethrough, watching this group and that group of inmates disportingthemselves about in the salty water with apparent unconcern ofvisitors. In markings some of them rivaled the most beautiful designsthe mind could picture, and others were so brilliant and wonderful incolor that the rainbow was mild in comparison. From the aquarium our party went up the beach to where the Sky-Bird IIwas resting under guard, and putting two new negroes to the task, theyreturned and had lunch with Mr. Choate, following which he conductedthem down to the pier and aboard his sea-going motor-yacht, _L'Apache_. This trim vessel had a crew of five men, and as she started away, headed for the Bahama Islands, a 25-foot motor-driven tender bobbedalong in her wake. In this they were to do most of their fishing, their host declared. Assisted by the northeastward pressure of the Gulf Stream, they madesplendid progress, and that evening cast anchor behind Bimini, a tinyisle which rests like a jeweled feather on a summer sea. It was likepulling teeth to go below deck for sleep and leave the wondrous beautyof the tropical night, with the soft, cool touch of the ever-blowingtrade wind, the shadowy grace of the giant coconut-palms swaying andwhispering on the nearby beach in the moonlight, while the surf, lapping upon the coral reef on the outer side of the isle, lulled themwith its crooning obligato. At sunrise all hands were up and ready for the sport. A hot breakfastwas served by the cook, after which they piled aboard the motor-tender, throwing in rods, lines, and harpoons. Through the island channel out to the open sea they went, all exceptthe steersman hanging over the side of the craft and enjoying theamazing sights in the clear depths below. Bob excitedly pointed out agroup of six or eight big tarpon lazily wallowing about fifty feetbeneath them. And less than two minutes afterward, Paul, in no lessexcitement, announced the discovery on his side of a big nurse-sharkwhich was rolling an eye at him from the ocean's floor. John pointedout, from the bow, a great school of fish numbering possibly tenthousand, which Mr. Choate stated were small mangrove-snappers. Theywere parading up and down a stretch of coral shelf along the bottom, and they made a wild dash and hid in crannies under the coral as a bigbarracuda unexpectedly shot into their midst and grabbed one unluckysnapper. In a little while the fishermen were out into the open sea, and allbegan to scan the pulsating bosom of the Gulf Stream with freshinterest. Strange as it may seem, the fish of tropical waters do notappear to have the slightest apprehension of danger from the noise of amotor-boat, and one cannot only get very close to them, but can followthem about and observe their movements without trouble, particularly ifhe is familiar with their habits. In a little while Mr. Giddings called the attention of all to a darkshadow not far below the surface, about two boat-lengths on thequarter. Mr. Choate promptly announced this to be a "herring-hog, " aspecies of porpoise, and ordered the boat turned that way. The creature proved to be a full-grown herring-hog, weighing aroundfour hundred pounds, and as this species destroys great numbers offoodfish, Mr. Choate made preparations to attack it. Reaching theproper position, a hand harpoon was thrown by him. It found its mark, and away went the great fish at so fast a clip that the line fairlysmoked as it shot from the reel barrel. In a few moments it was allout, and then the motor-boat gave a jump forward and rushed after theherring-hog. He was towing it, as if it had been a chip! The engineer now reversed the propeller. This act slowed up theherring-hog noticeably, but still his prodigious strength carried thecraft forward. It was ten minutes or more before he tired sufficientlyfor them to haul him in. As they were making the big fish fast to the gunwale, a considerabledisturbance was observed on the surface of the water about a quarter ofa mile away. Mr. Choate judged this fuss to be caused either by aleopard-shark killing its prey, or by some battle royal between twoequally big denizens of the deep. Mr. Giddings and the boys were all excited at the thought of getting aharpoon into a huge leopard-shark, which will fight any and everythingthat swims, as well as many things of flesh which do not swim, notexcepting man himself. But as the boat drew closer, Mr. Choate, who seemed to have uncannyeyesight plus long experience with subsea life, added greatly to thenervousness of his guests by suddenly exclaiming: "Stand by, men; it'sthe biggest devil-fish I have ever seen!" At once everybody who could find one, seized a harpoon; and in hisexcitement Tom Meeks even picked up an oar, as if to defend himselfagainst attack! In a few minutes they were close enough to note that the entire bottomof the ocean in the area where the creature had been seen had gonesuddenly dark; and in the translucent depths above nearly all of theparty discerned a gigantic shadow moving along. It looked for all theworld like an immense pancake with bat-like wings. These wings werefluttering queerly, and from the action of the fish Mr. Choate said hewas sure it was devouring prey which it had just killed. He now askedPaul if he would like to try a cast. The boy assented eagerly. Bracing his feet in the bottom of the motor-boat he took good aim andlet his harpoon fly. Paul had hardly hoped to hit the devil-fish. And probably he would nothave done so, inexperienced as he was with a harpoon, except for thefact that the creature was of unusual size and presented a broad mark. As it chanced, the steel went true. The devil-fish arose to thesurface as though hurled upward by a submarine explosion. One of itsgreat battle-like fins broke above the water, sending gallons of sprayover the occupants of the boat, and splintering the harpoon staffagainst the boat's side as if it had been a match stem; then itsten-foot pectoral wing struck the water with a terrific impact, makinga noise which could have been heard several miles away. For a moment the monster seemed bewildered, and that moment cost itdear, for it enabled Bob to throw another harpoon, which stuck deepinto its body near the spine. With a mad dash it started off to sea, taking the harpoon lines with it. As the lines sped out of theirbarrels Mr. Choate grasped one and Mr. Giddings the other, aidedrespectively by John and Tom, and all hands strained to hold them, butalthough they went out slowly, they could not be held, until at lengthPaul and Bob came to the rescue and managed to get the ends aroundcleats in the boat. However, this did not stop the devil-fish. It made out to sea withremarkable speed for so clumsy-looking a monster, towing the heavy boatand its inmates after it with the ease of a horse pulling a toycarriage! As it went, all hands bore on the lines, adding to itsburden, but for a long time this seemed to have little or no effect. Every once in a while the devil-fish would literally hurl itselfseveral feet out of the water, and its huge flat body would come downwith a crack like the explosion of a gun shell. Perhaps it wasimagination, but each time it broke the surface in one of thesecavortings it seemed to the boys that the fish was bigger than the lasttime. Now and then the creature would sound for deep water, in an effort toshake its captors off, and several times it went down so far that Mr. Choate stood ready with upraised hatchet to cut the lines at the lastmoment, in the event the bow should show signs of diving under. All of a sudden the lines slackened, and all hands frantically hauledin slack, as the devil-fish turned and dashed toward the boat. He cameup almost under the craft, one great wing actually lifting one side ofthe heavy launch well out of the water and giving everybody a prettystiff scare. With quick presence of mind, Mr. Choate at this moment let driveanother harpoon, which found lodgment in the monster's flat head, andaway it dashed again with the greatest vigor. As there was now a lineleading to each side of the devil-fish's body, those in the motor-boatfound they were able actually to drive their captive as if it were arunaway horse, a gradual bearing on one "rein" or the other tending todirect the uncertain creature in that direction. Thus very adroitlythey swerved the huge fish toward the now distant shore of Bimini, hoping to master it in the shallower waters of the isle. By this time the monster had carried them out fully ten miles. It hadnot forgotten its old tactics of deep diving either, and there werenumerous occasions when, after one of these submersions, it came up andstarted fiercely toward the boat, and it took the most skillfulmaneuvering on the part of the steersman, as well as wicked use of oarson the part of those in the craft, to drive the creature off and keepfrom being upset. They let their anchor drag, and at times reversed the propeller, hauling on this side and that on the harpoon lines when the devil-fishwould not be going to suit them. In this fashion it was slowly butsurely tired out; they began to reel in slack line, and finally theimmense fish was wallowing within twenty feet of the boat, surroundedby hungry sharks which had been attracted by its blood. It would neverdo to goad it now by hauling in on the lines, as it might dart underthe boat and upset it, and the waiting sharks could then make a meal ofits luckless inmates. So Mr. Choate told the boys to use theirautomatic revolvers and see if they could not dispatch the devil-fishat once. This was done, John, Tom, Paul, and Bob all firing severalshots each, which put the monster in such a helpless state that theycould handle it with less danger to themselves. Until that moment not one of them realized that nearly five hours hadelapsed since they first attacked this Jumbo of the sea, so busy hadthey been every moment of the time in trying to conquer the creature. And everybody was quite exhausted, now that the excitement was over. Although this fish had three harpoons in his body and a dozen shots inits head and heart, it was by no means dead, and the fishermen foundconsiderable difficulty in towing it into the harbor, some miles away. The natives of Bimini were greatly interested in the capture, and ourfriends were able to get fifteen of them to help draw the enormouscarcass ashore where all could get a good look at it. They were amazedat the unusual size of the devil-fish, and Mr. Choate declared againthat he had never seen such a large one of its kind. It measuredtwenty-two feet across, and must have weighed close to 5, 000 pounds. "Some people call the octopus a devil-fish, " said Mr. Choate. "This isall wrong. They are both large and vicious creatures, but entirelydifferent in looks. The devil-fish belongs to the ray family, and, asyou see, is a huge bat-like creature which uses its body fins with awaving, undulating motion, and propels itself through the water atremarkable speed. " "It is built on the principle of our airplane--in looks, " said Tom witha grin; "and in speed, too. " "So it is, " responded Mr. Choate. "It derives its satanic name fromthese cephalic fins or lobes which extend outward and upward from eachside of its flat head, like curling horns. When it dashes into aschool of smaller fish, these fins whirl about in every direction, andas they are often four feet long they easily reach more than onehapless fish and he is swept into the yardwide mouth of the monster anddevoured with almost lightning speed. " After a rest, the party went out in the motorboat again, this time tocatch foodfish. They had fine luck, and after an appetizing mealaboard the _L'Apache_, in which their small catch played an importantpart, all set out for Miami, tired and happy. CHAPTER XIII THE STRANGE AIRPLANE The first thing the boys did the following morning, after spending thenight at the home of Mr. Choate, was to go down to the beach and see iftheir airplane was all right. They found one of the two negroes asleep, but the other fellow was faithfully on guard, and everything about theSky-Bird seemed just as they had left it, although the watchers said thata considerable number of curious townspeople had come to look at themachine the day before and they had been very busy keeping venturesomeboys off the craft. Our friends let the negroes go to get their breakfasts and some sleep, and engaged two others to take up the watch. Following this, in companywith Mr. Choate, they all retired to the bathhouse, secured bathing suitsand had a fine time disporting themselves in the warm surf for the nexthour. The youths had never experienced Gulf Stream bathing before, andthe water was so enticing that it was hard to drag themselves out of it. As they were in the act of emerging to dress themselves, a black speck, which all had noticed in the northern sky, had developed by nearerapproach so that they thought they could recognize it as an airplane. Itwas coming down the coast very rapidly. Wondering if its pilot intendedto land in the vicinity, they gathered on the beach and curiously waitedfor it to come nearer. At times they were puzzled to know whether the approaching object werereally an airplane or a great bird, for it surely looked like a bird withits swelling breast-line and slightly tilted broad-shouldered wings. Closer and closer it came. It was flying very high. When it was almost over them, Mr. Giddings uttered a startledejaculation; "My stars, boys! It's _our_ machine!" Paul and John Ross and Tom Meeks were equally astonished. They hadnoticed the strong resemblance at the same moment. Involuntarily, withMr. Giddings and Mr. Choate, they turned their heads up the beach to seeif the Sky-Bird II was where they had left it. They saw its huge outline and its patrolling black guards. It had notchanged position. Even a group of gaping Miami citizens lent reality tothe situation, and some of the latter were gazing aloft at the otherflying-machine, as our friends had been doing. The stranger above them evidently had no intention of stopping. Insteadof circling the town, as he would have done had he intended to land, heswept straight over and kept on his southward course, heading acrossFlorida Strait. On the face of every one of our friends, as they saw this image of theSky-Bird II cross the sky overhead and disappear in the mists beyond, wasa look of amazement, incredulity, and finally dark suspicion. "Can it be--?" Mr. Giddings hesitated, and looked inquiringly at hisyounger companions. "It looks that way, " said John Ross, with a reluctant nod. None needed to explain that the same thought had struck him, also. Thestolen blue-prints--the skulking man with the swarthy face! He hadduplicated the Sky-Bird! More than that, each recalled the _Clarion's_ secrecy about the kind ofairplane it planned to use; and its willingness to attempt the long"hops" which ordinary machines would have had difficulty in negotiating. It all pointed to but one logical meaning. And Bob Giddings expressedthe opinion of all when he observed: "Dad, I believe there goes our prospective competitor in the race aroundthe world! He's making for Panama now!" Further comment on the situation would have been useless. All hands, each with disturbing thoughts of his own, went silently into thebathhouse and resumed his regular garb. Mr. Choate and his wife begged them so hard to remain over another day atleast that Mr. Giddings assented. That afternoon they went for a longautomobile ride along improved roads, both sides of which were lined withpalms in places, luxuriant tropical grasses in others, and toweringforests covered with creeping vines. They stopped the car a number oftimes to visit great orange groves, and the boys had their first taste ofthe luscious fruit just as it ripened on the trees. The following morning, directly after breakfast, they were besieged bytwo or three local newspaper reporters. Seeing no use of furtherconcealing their identity, Mr. Giddings gave out a little information tothe gleeful newspaper men, but was careful to wire in to his ownnewspaper much more detail of their doings since leaving Yonkers, evenmailing some photographs which they had taken of the tussle with the bigdevil-fish. In the afternoon our party paid a visit to the aquarium again, extendingit to the Biological Laboratory nearby; and took supper in the beautifulwhite casino, which fronts the beach, after they had had a refreshingplunge in the ocean's waters. Then Paul and Bob took up Mr. And Mrs. Choate for a short flight in the airplane. Early the next morning they bade their Miami friends good-bye, and oncemore took to the air, this time to complete the last leg of their journeyto Panama. It was found that the Sky-Bird's fuel tanks were apparentlystill full enough to carry them to their destination, so it had not beennecessary to store either gasoline or oil in Miami. This was verygratifying, as it showed quite conclusively that, later on in the race, the Sky-Bird would be able to make her longest jumps without the peril offuel shortage. At a height of close to two thousand feet they headed across FloridaStrait, with Paul at the throttle. It was a real joy to be lookingthrough the glass panels of the airplane's cabin once more, to hear themuffled roar of her engine and propeller, and to realize that probablybefore dark they would be across the five hundred miles of blue waters ofthe Caribbean and hovering over the world-famous Canal Zone. It was a fine morning. What clouds could be seen were well abovethem--light, billowy, and white, reflecting the sunlight so strongly uponthe white-capped waters below, that the sea seemed much closer to thevoyagers than it really was. Shortly after eight o'clock they crossed over the long, low-lying islandof Cuba, dipping down close enough to get a fairly good view of thetopography. Then rising to three thousand feet, they swerved a little tothe eastward and made off across the Caribbean Sea itself. At a few minutes of eleven they sighted the shore of Jamaica, five milesor so to the eastward of them. Then John took the throttle, both engineswere put into the work, and they began to whizz through the air at a clipwhich would have made them gasp for breath had they been in an opencockpit. As it was, the rush of air as it swept along each side of thefuselage and off its narrowing tail, became a veritable howl in whosenoise they found conversation very difficult. Tom Meeks, who was leaningover John's shoulder and watching the instrument-board, triumphantlyannounced presently that they were traveling at the rate of 280 miles anhour! For thirty minutes or more John Ross kept the Sky-Bird going at thisterrific speed, then he slowed up, and transferred into mono-engine gear, as there was no use in unnecessarily heating the power-plants. As theindicator of the speedometer retreated to 150 miles, he turned thethrottle over to Bob Giddings, and said: "Hold her at this rate, Bob;it's plenty fast enough for the present. " It was a little after one o'clock when Paul and Tom announced land to thewestward. After looking at the object, which surely had the appearanceof land, Mr. Giddings laid down the glasses and consulted the chart. "That's undoubtedly the outer point of Nicaragua, " he said; and upontaking a look themselves with the binoculars, the others all agreed withhim. Keeping the low-lying coastline of the continent on their right, andbuffeted considerably by contrary winds which now began to makethemselves manifest, Bob threw the automatic-pilot into gear at asuggestion from John, as this insured greater safety, and steered withthe rudder only. At once the riding became easier, for the moment a gustof wind hit the machine on one side, the elevators and ailerons shiftedand counteracted its uneven effect. After a while Bob turned slightly to the eastward, and aboutmid-afternoon they came in sight of Colon, the Atlantic terminal city ofthe great Canal. Sweeping over its collection of houses, at an elevationof about fifteen hundred feet, they passed the big white Gatun locks, andfollowed the trail of the Panama Railroad across the great neck of ruggedland which joined North and South America--followed, too, the tortuous, wonderful channel which American enterprise had cut through. Thus over Gatun Lake they flew, over the Chagres River; along the courseof Culebra Cut, with its high banks, across the Pedro Miguel andMiraflores locks on the other side of the isthmus; over Ancon; andfinally below them lay clustered the white-robed buildings of Panamaitself, with the swelling blue reaches of the big Pacific to thesouthward and westward, and the bold shore-line of South America to thesoutheastward. Looking down as they circled the narrow tongue of land on which the cityproper nestled, our friends soon made out the big Governmentlanding-field and airdrome, distinguished by its whitewashed cobblestonemarkers at either end. And, now, as the Sky-Bird II swooped downward, several attendants in white pantaloons could be seen running out of thebuilding. When the airplane had settled, these men came up. Two were short, blackfellows, probably San Blas Indians; but the other two were whites, thoughwell-burned by the tropical suns. The taller of the white men introducedhimself as Henry Masters, superintendent of the landing-field, and wasextremely courteous when he learned the identity of the new-arrivals. "We have been looking for you gentlemen, " said he, "and I'm glad to knowyou had such a fine run from Miami. There are a lot of strangers intown--been arriving for the last three or four days--all to witness thestart of this big race. Most of them seem to be newspaper men from theStates, though there are a number from South America, and even Africa andEurope. Is this the plane that you fellows representing the _DailyIndependent_ are going to fly in?" "This is the one, Mr. Masters, " responded John. "It is a beauty, " said the superintendent with enthusiasm, as he glancedover the graceful outlines of the Sky-Bird. "I never saw one built onthese lines until the other day, when what seems to be its twin came in. " "Much like-um lot, " remarked one of the natives, and his companion, addedmore concisely: "Same like-um lot. " In spite of the fact that our party had been fearing some suchinformation as this upon reaching Panama, the actual announcement of itmade their hearts jump wildly. "Where is this machine now?" asked Mr. Giddings as calmly as he could. "In the hangar, " was the reply of Masters. "It is the one that is goingto fly against you. " "Who is in charge of it?" inquired John Ross. "Five arrived in it. Four of them are to be in the contest, they say. The other gentleman is Mr. Wrenn, of the New York _Clarion_. " A few minutes later, when they pushed the Sky-Bird into one of the bigdouble hangars, their suspicions were conclusively clinched. For thereat one side stood the very counterpart of their own airplane, differingonly in the name painted upon its sides and under its big hollow wings. These letters spelled "_Clarion_"! CHAPTER XIV A FAMILIAR FACE Our friends exchanged glances. The brow of every one of themcontracted into so plain a frown that Mr. Masters, the superintendentof the airdrome, could not help noticing it. "I hope nothing is wrong, gentlemen, " he ventured half-interrogatively. "So do we, " responded Mr. Giddings, "but if there is, it is nothingconcerning you, sir, at least. We thank you for your attention to ourmachine, and wish you to take the best care of it while it is here. Don't let anybody meddle with it, will you?" "We'll look after it right, you may depend upon that, " said the flyingofficial; and the party turned and left the building. Outside, where they would be secure from the hearing of others, allcame to a pause, for there was a lot on their minds. "Well, boys, " said the publisher, "you see our suspicions back there inMiami were certainly well-founded. It seems that in some manner thosestolen blue-prints have fallen into the hands of our rivals, and theyhave been wise enough to profit by the fact. " "Do you think, dad, that Mr. Wrenn could have been back of this theft?"propounded Bob who, although the publisher was a business rival of hisfather's, had always thought him above such operations. "I really do not know what to think, " was Mr. Giddings's answer. "Ihave always entertained the greatest respect for this gentleman'shonesty, if he does differ with me politically. But I must admit thatsince this thing has happened--" "Sh-h!" warned Bob suddenly. "Here comes Mr. Wrenn now!" It was as he said. Turning his head in the direction of the entranceto the landing-field, Mr. Giddings instantly recognized, in the shortfigure in linen coming toward them, the person of the publisher of the_Clarion_. "I shall have this matter out with him right now, " was the grimdeclaration of the _Daily Independent's_ director. "Well, well! how are you, Giddings? How are you, Robert?" cried Mr. Wrenn, sticking out his pudgy hand when he came up to the little group. Such was his gusto that he did not seem to notice the lukewarmness ofthe father's and son's greeting. Mr. Giddings introduced John, Paul, and Tom, and then the publisher of the _Clarion_ continued withgood-humored raillery: "I'm mighty glad to see you fellows here, for Ibegan to think you would get scared and flunk us at the last moment. Was over on the hotel veranda when I saw a plane land here, and Iguessed it might be you, and hurried right over. Put your machine upyet?" "We did, " said Mr. Giddings rather sourly. "And do you know, Wrenn, when we ran the Sky-Bird in the hangar we saw yours in there andreceived quite a disagreeable surprise--I may say shock. " Mr. Giddings and the boys watched the broad face of their rival verynarrowly as this statement was put. Would he act guilty? There was an explosion of laughter, the heartiest of laughter, from the_Clarion_ director. "Oh, say, that's one on you, Giddings! I knewyou'd be down in the mouth when you saw our machine and realized thatyou would have to contend against one as good or better than yourown--one of the same type!" And he laughed again, until he had to wipetears from his little blue eyes. This was incomprehensible conduct from a guilty conscience! What couldit mean? Surely Mr. Wrenn, of the _Clarion_, was either the coldestand deepest-dyed rogue in the world or a man entirely innocent! "How did you know that we had an airplane like yours?" asked Johnsharply. The fat man broke into renewed chuckles at this question, and it was amoment or two before he could find words. Then he said: "There's a little story connected with this, and now that we're righton the eve of the race and there's nothing to be gained by furthersecrecy, I'll tell it to you. You see, about a year and a half ago, possibly two years, a young man came to me for a job as sportingreporter; said he had been a flyer in France and that the Governmentwanted him as an Air Mail pilot, but he would rather take up thenewspaper game. I put him to work, and he proved very good ingathering news of sports, especially aviation stuff. A week or soafter you challenged me to this race--which I would have liked to backout of, but couldn't and save my honor--this chap showed me someblue-prints of a novel kind of airplane which he claimed to haveco-devised with a flyer friend who, he said, was helping to make you amachine of the same type for this contest. He--" "What is this young man's name?" inquired John Ross excitedly. "Peter Deveaux. " "Peter Deveaux!" exclaimed John and Paul at once. And John added: "Mr. Wrenn, that fellow did not refuse to fly in the Air Mail service; he_did_ fly, and was dishonorably discharged for drunkenness. Furthermore, he stole those plans from our hangar!" The publisher of the _Clarion_ opened his eyes wide. "Can you provethose assertions?" he inquired. "That last one is a serious charge, sir. " "Nevertheless we can prove it when we get back to New York, " declaredJohn warmly. "Well, " said Mr. Wrenn, "I'll finish my story, and then we can talkover this new development more understandingly. As I said, Deveauxclaimed to have a half-right in the plans, and having no reason todoubt it, I told him to proceed, when he proposed to make an airplanefor us from the designs and to head a crew for the _Clarion_ in thisrace around the world. Now you will understand my position in thematter. " "Wrenn, " spoke up Mr. Giddings with quick frankness, "I beg yourpardon. The young men here and myself fancied you must have had aguilty part in the production of this fac-simile of our airplane. Wenow see who is really to blame. " "I do not blame you for your suspicions, " was the candid reply of thefat man, "if things are as you state; and I will do you the honor, Giddings, to say that, although we are business rivals, your word is asgood as gold with me. This is a lamentable situation. What shall wedo about it?" Mr. Giddings studied deeply before making answer. Then he observed:"Wrenn, this contest, as you know, has been too widely advertised towreck it just as it is about to begin by the arrest of this man, PeterDeveaux. Say nothing to him about it; in fact, we will none of usmention a word of this to anybody; but when the race is over you canquietly dismiss him from your service, if you wish. As I now look atit, no great harm has been done, if any, by his duplicity; with twoplanes practically alike, the race will really be a fairer one, and amore exciting one for the public who read our newspapers, and supremacywill probably go to the better crew. " "I don't know about my crew, as Deveaux picked them up; but they didgood work when they brought me down here the other day in the plane, "said Mr. Wrenn. "Giddings, I think your plan is all right, and we'lllet the race go on as if nothing had happened; but you bet your lastdollar I'll fire Pete when it's all over, if he has done what you say!" With that the publisher of the _Clarion_ accompanied our friends backto the hangar, where he had a good look at the Sky-Bird II, and showedhis own airplane, which was in all essentials an exact copy of theother. Following this they left the airdrome and went to their hotels. All had a good night's rest--probably the last one they would have onearth for more than a week, --and after a hearty breakfast theyproceeded to get what supplies they would need to last them until theyshould reach Georgetown, British Guiana, on the north coast of SouthAmerica. This would be their first stop. Somehow the townspeoplequickly guessed their identity, and they were followed from store tostore as they shopped by a curious and motley throng of dark-skinnednatives, among whom were noticed quite a few white children, presumablybelonging to American employees of the Government. With such eatables as they had bought stored in a basket, and carryinga few other packages, the boys went out to the airdrome. A guard stoodat the door to keep out those having no business in the hangar, and asthe young flyers passed in they noticed that Mr. Wrenn and a group offour fellows in flying-suits were going over the rival airplane. "Here, boys, come over here a minute!" called the fat man. As theyapproached, the aviators with him turned from their work. One, aslender fellow with swarthy skin and a scrubby black mustache, scowledwhen he looked at John Ross, and as Bob Giddings and Tom Meeks gottheir eyes on him, they gave an involuntary start, for they recognizedin the man the fellow they had seen hanging around the fair-grounds inYonkers when their machine was in process of construction. "It's time you fellows got acquainted with each other, " said Mr. Wrenn, and he forthwith proceeded to introduce his crew as Pete Deveaux, ChuckCrossman, Oliver Torrey, and Sam Lane. "How are you, Ross?" greeted Pete Deveaux. He uttered a sour sort oflaugh, as his companions offered their hands around the group. "Iwon't do any shaking, " said he, "as my hands are kind of greasy. " "Don't worry, Deveaux, " advised John quickly. "We won't feel bad overa little thing like that. " "That your plane over there?" asked the swarthy fellow. "That's it; quite a strong resemblance to yours here, " said John withcutting sarcasm. "That's so, " was Deveaux's comment, casting a quick look toward Mr. Wrenn. Apparently he was as anxious to drop the subject as a chickenwould a red-hot kernel of corn, for he immediately observed, with anill-concealed sneer: "I suppose you guys think you're going to leave usa good ways behind in this race?" "We're not telling what we think, " put in Paul; "but one thing is sure:we're going to keep you hustling some. " "Oh, that's too bad, now, ain't it?" drawled Oliver Torrey, as heleered out of one eye. "Say, kid, we'll beat youse so bad you'll be squallin' before you'rehalf-way round the globe, " put in Sam Lane. "You bet! Ain't no use o' flying against such veterans as us, "supplemented Chuck Crossman, with a wag of his frowsy head. Mr. Wrenn frowned. While these might be his own men, it was hard tocountenance such bragging. CHAPTER XV THE START By eleven o'clock the tanks of the Sky-Bird II had been filled withgasoline and oil, and the radiator of each engine supplied with twelvegallons of water. In addition to this, its crew had carefully goneover every brace, control, bolt, and nut to make sure that everythingwas tight, the engines had been run detached from the propeller for afew minutes to warm them up, and every bearing not reached by thelubricating system was well oiled by hand. Mr. Giddings had appeared about an hour earlier, bringing with him thetwo special correspondents of the _Daily Independent_, as well asseveral other newspaper men representing various prominent foreignpublications. As soon as our boys had finished shaking hands withthese, they were introduced to a number of well-known Governmentofficials and aviation representatives, who added their good wishes forthe success of the big undertaking. Then came Mr. Wrenn with a partyof his own distinguished friends, which called for more hand-shaking. At twelve-fifteen the rival machines were pushed out of the hangar andtook up positions in the field, ready for the signal to "hop. " Attwelve-fifty both crews, with the exception of their respectivecrankers-up, entered their machines, and a heavy hush fell over thegreat crowd which had assembled to see the start of the first racearound the world's circumference. It was without denial an auspiciousmoment, and as they stood there and looked at the two big mechanicalbirds which were to attempt this prodigious feat, embracing almost25, 000 miles, threading every mile of the distance through the air inthe astounding time of ten days, the situation was so fraught with awe, particularly to the native Panamanians, that now at the last moment allwere practically voiceless. The rival publishers gave their parting instructions as their crewsclimbed into the cabins, and these were to the same effect: "Don'tforget, boys, to report to us at every stop, and mail us all thepictures you can. Between stops use your wireless for reports wheneverpossible. Good-bye, and the best of luck!" Lieutenant-Colonel Warren J. Hess, a gentleman prominent in Americanaviation circles, had been selected as judge of the contest. He wasnot only to give the signal to start off the flyers, but with Mr. Giddings, was to await in Panama their return, and demand from eachcrew upon arrival a document containing the signature of the portofficial at each scheduled landing. Colonel Hess, looking at his watch, now raised his hand, andinstinctively those in the front of each of the long lines ofspectators flanking the run-way crowded back so that the airplaneswould not strike them as they dashed down the field for the take-off. Tom Meeks and Chuck Crossman spun the propellers, sprang back to escapetheir vicious whirr as the respective engines fired, and quicklyclambered into their machines. It was exactly one o'clock. Both airplanes taxied down the runway sideby side. They also arose together, amid a great cheering, some ninetyfeet apart, shooting grandly up into the air above the heads of thepeople in the lower end of the field. At a height of a thousand feet, the gray _Clarion_ bent eastward. At fifteen hundred feet, theSky-Bird did likewise. From the open windows of each of the cabinsfluttered white handkerchiefs in a final farewell, and many abroad-brimmed hat in the hands of the excited populace below was wavedin answer. Flying low, the _Clarion_ started away in the lead, while her rival hadbeen mounting to her own preferred higher level. By the time theSky-Bird had straightened out, her contemporary was well in advance. "We're losing ground, " said Bob Giddings anxiously. "Don't worry about that, " said Paul Ross, who was at the throttle; "wecan catch them when we're ready. We'll get a better current of air uphere. " Paul's maneuver had been due to the fact that heavy head-winds wereblowing, and he was quite sure if he went higher he would get above theworst of these. As they now shot along on an even keel, it seemed hard to realize thatthey had at last started out on the important flight for which they hadbeen planning and working so long; and as Paul watched his instrumentsand the scudding rival machine ahead, he could not help wondering whatthe issue of it all might be--if the fates would be so kind as to smileenough on the Sky-Bird to bring her in ahead of the _Clarion_ andwithin schedule time. Many weary miles must be covered before theywould see Panama again. And when they would land in that air-dromeagain--if in truth they ever did!--would it be as victors, or aslisteners to the jeers of the rough crew of the other plane? It was not an ideal day for the start from a weather standpoint. Infact, a consultation of the weather reports at the Panama Bureau beforethey left had shown a prophecy of strong northeasterly winds andpossible showers. The sun was almost shut out by patches of cloud, glinting through only occasionally; but neither crew had felt likepostponing the start, so eager were they to be off and so confidentwere they in the capabilities of their respective machines to meetalmost any sort of bad weather. Straight along the Isthmus both machines proceeded, making a bee-linefor Georgetown, which it was hoped to reach at daylight. The coastlinewas low along here and very uneven, with numerous pretty little islandson the Pacific side, the waters surrounding them sparkling like jewelswhen the sun's rays would struggle through the clouds and strike thetossing waves. In the northern part of the Republic of Colombia they passed just tothe right of the western terminal range of the great Andes Mountains, and within an hour's time were sailing through Quindiu Pass of thecentral arm of the same mountains. At this time they were over twelvethousand feet above sea-level. Then came the table-lands of westernVenezuela, open in places and covered with thick growths of tropicalforests in others. As they approached the foothills of the eastern chain or arm of themountains, Paul took the throttle, and they steadily arose in order toclear the high pinnacles facing them, and finally, at a height offifteen thousand feet--the greatest height they had yet attained--theywent over them. The airplane encountered several "air pockets" in thisprocess, which might have been disastrous to them except for thestabilizing effect of the automatic-pilot. As it was, the machinepitched rather roughly in surviving them. In sweeping past the last crag they had come very near to striking, owing to a cloud which enwrapped it. Just in time Paul's sharp eyeshad seen the white bank of snow on the crag ahead, and he elevated hiscraft enough to pass over. It was so cold up here, even in the cabin, that the boys had to don their heavy coats. Just as they turned the nose of their machine toward a lower level, running at reduced speed, a huge bird with curving beak, which Johnsaid was a condor, dashed from the crags after the airplane. It wasfollowed a moment later by five or six others. The great birds seemedto resent the appearance of so strange a giant in the mountainfastnesses where they had always held the supremacy of the air, all thetime darting angrily at it, flapping their long, black and white wings, some of which had the immense span of fourteen feet, and croakinghoarsely. The boys laughed at first, but when the creatures commenced to comecloser, frequently hitting the windows with their sharp beaks, andcracking two of them, they began to get really alarmed. Once thepropeller struck the tail of one bold and incautious condor, andfeathers flew in all directions; but after a quick circle he was backagain, madder than ever. "Say, fellows, " cried Paul; "we've got to do something with these birdsright away! First thing we know, one of them will get hit a squarerblow with the propeller and smash it. Then we'll crash as sure as I'msitting here. " This peril was very imminent, as all could see. John seized the shot-gun from its rack, and Tom one of the rifles. These were loaded. Stationing themselves on either side of the cabin, the young men drew down the windows in front of them, poked out theirweapons and watched for a chance to use them. Tom's gun was the first to blaze away, but it is difficult to hit abird on the wing with a rifle, and he missed. A moment later, as acondor dashed viciously toward his window, John fired, and the greatbird, mortally stricken, tumbled into the mists below. Tom was more fortunate the next time. A condor, with a fluttering ofhis immense wings, had settled right on the tail of the machine, wherehe clung with his sturdy talons, threatening to prevent Paul frommanipulating the rudder. When Bob called Tom's attention to thisalarming situation, the latter joined him at the rear window of thecabin. Tom took careful aim, pulled the trigger, and the condor fellwith a broken wing, uttering hoarse cries until the clouds belowswallowed him up. Two more of the fierce creatures were killed before the remaining birdswere frightened off. It was with a sigh of relief that Paul nowresumed his descent to lower levels. When presently they emerged out of the last cloud, and could see thegreen earth below them once more, they were across the last chain ofmountain they would encounter in South America. They gazed with theirglasses on all sides, and checked up their position on the chart, although in doing this they had great difficulty on account of acurtain of thin fog which hung over the land, and only a very lowaltitude of about five hundred feet would allow of it at all. As soon as they were sure of their bearings they again took a searchingobservation in quest of the rival airplane, but no sign of it couldthey see. "They're probably quite a bit ahead of us by this time, " observed John;"but now that we're through the last chain of the Andes we can makebetter speed. Shoot her up to two thousand feet, Buddy. We'll set ourcourse for Georgetown by compass. " Paul bore upward, and at the level mentioned he straightened themachine with her nose once more pointed eastward, and the compass handpointing along the left wing of the machine. It was now growing dark. Not knowing whether this was caused by theclosing in of the clouds or the natural declension of the sun, Boblooked at his watch. To his surprise he found it was seven o'clockPanama time, which would make it probably close to nine in theirpresent locality. Night should now be upon them. As it had been decided to let John and Tom operate the night shift, atleast for the first few days, John now took his trick at the throttle, changed to the fresh engine, and Bob and Paul turned into theirhammocks for the first sleep aboard the airplane. They were bothpretty tired, as each had spent several hours at the helm thatafternoon, and it was only a few minutes before the gentle rocking ofthe plane on the billows of air had sent them into a sound oblivion. Just before retiring, Bob had wirelessed Panama of their safe passagethrough the mountains and fight with the condors, stating that severalsnapshots of the birds had been secured and that these would be mailedto the _Daily Independent_ upon reaching Georgetown. Not long after the change of pilots a fine rain began to fall, coveringthe windows of the cabin with a film of moisture; but as it was now toodark to see anyhow, John did not care whether he could look outside ornot. However, for the good of the machine, as well as the bettermentof their speed, he decided to get out of the storm. So, switching onthe little dashboard electric lights to illuminate his instruments, heturned the Sky-Bird upward again. Through the very clouds which wereexpelling the rain, gathered from the warm Atlantic trade-winds, heguided the machine. At nine thousand feet he was above them, in cleardry air, with a blue, star-studded sky above his head and in the mellowglow of a full moon. "Well, John, this is more like night-flying, " remarked Tom Meeks, whosat just behind the pilot, ready to assist him at a moment's notice ifthe need should appear. "As long as I know there are no mountains ahead to smash into I'm notworrying a bit, " replied John, "and I guess we're all right on thatscore. I'm going to let the old girl out now, Tom. " "Might as well, " was the response. Thereupon John threw on the gas by degrees until the indicator showedthem to be whizzing along at 150 miles. He easily could have gonefifty more on the one engine had he chosen, but was afraid such a speedwould carry them beyond their destination and out into the Atlanticbefore daylight could show them their position. Had they notpreviously been running somewhat behind scheduled time, he would nothave accelerated even now. Shortly after midnight Tom relieved him at the throttle, and runningslightly slower, to make sure they would not pass over Georgetown inthe darkness, Tom began to hum softly to himself as he kept a sharplookout upon his instruments. John settled back in the seat behind, asalert for any sudden peril as his mate had been before. But no mishap marred the night's run, which was as smooth up thereabove the clouds as any veteran flyer could have wished. And when atlast the bright sun of another day chased the moon and its haze intoobscurity, it lighted up the flying craft some time before its orb hadpeeped high enough over the Atlantic's horizon to shed its rays uponthe affairs of earth itself. Gradually, as the sun arose in the heavens, Tom brought the Sky-Birdlower, until presently he and John could see the ground, bathed inglistening color from its recent wetting, far below them. At this time Paul and Bob awoke, and washing their hands and faces, came to the windows to look out. The first thing they all did was tosweep the sky-line for some vision of the rival airplane, but withoutsuccess. Then they put their attention on the country below and around. Just beneath was a pretty little blue lake, walled in with great foresttrees some of which must have been over a hundred feet high. A shortway beyond was an immense field covered with what they were sure mustbe sugar-cane, and in which they could see dark-skinned men at workwith queer carts and clumsy oxen. At the right, a mere thread ofsilver, was a river, hedged with tropical vegetation. This sweptaround toward their front, enlarging as it came, and at what seemed nofarther than five miles away, poured its waters out into a great sea ofapparently limitless expanse. The boys concluded at once that this great body of water must be theAtlantic Ocean, and when they saw a fair-sized town nestling among thetrees at the point where the river joined the sea, their chart toldthem that the stream was the Essequibo River, and the collection oflow-roofed buildings was none less than Georgetown! A few minutes later, they were circling the town to locate theirlanding-field which was to be marked with a large white letter T. Seeing it on the second turn, they swept down amongst a curious andhalf-frightened throng, and taxied to a stop. To their relief and gratification, they found that their rivals had notyet appeared. CHAPTER XVI TRICKED BY RIVALS Correcting their watches with Georgetown time, as given to them by Mr. Whiteshore, the Englishman in charge of the field, the boys found totheir joy that they had arrived five minutes ahead of schedule. Thiswould give them, if they wished to take it, a trifle more than threehours to spend in Georgetown. But first must come business; they must go over the machine verycarefully and see if the long, hard run from Panama had done anydamage; and they must replenish their fuel, oil, and water supply. They were happy to find both engines in fine shape, thanks to thepossibility of alternating them in transit, and beyond a number ofscratches and the cracked glass made by the condors in their attack incrossing the Andes the airplane was in perfect shape. Paul climbed upand examined the helium-gas valves, of which there were three in eachwing, one for each of three compartments, and announced that thepressure showed only an insignificant decrease. At the rate ofescapage indicated, they would have plenty to last them for the wholetrip. This was reassuring knowledge, for no envelope can be made soimpervious that light gases will not escape at all. The bodycompartment also showed good pressure. It took them an hour and fifteen minutes to replenish the fuel tanksand water radiator and put everything in shape. Just as they werefinishing up, a cry from the curious crowd around them called theirattention to the western sky, and they saw an airplane approaching. This developed rapidly into the unmistakable outlines of the _Clarion_, and in a few minutes the rival crew landed in the field. Pete Deveaux sauntered over to the crew of the Sky-Bird II. "Well, fellows, " he said, with the sneer which seemed to be on hisleathery countenance most of the time, "I notice you got in a littleahead of us. Congratulations! I suppose you're tickled to death. " "We're not quite that far gone; just a little bit alive, " grinned TomMeeks. "What made your crew so slow, Deveaux? Did you get wet in thatrain last night and have to stop off and dry out your clothes?" "Aw, cut it out; talk sense!" snarled the French flyer. He turned onhis heel, fearing more of Tom's sharp thrusts if he lingered longer, and shot back: "You guys will have another laugh coming one of thesedays, mark my words!" With that he rejoined his companions. Not at all worried at such a prophecy, our friends secured a native boyto guide them into the town, a quarter of a mile distant, leaving theirairplane under guard of two Chinese out in the open, the field boastingno such thing as a hangar. At the little telegraph office of the town, John dispatched their report to the _Daily Independent_, also mailed atthe local postoffice the promised films of the encounter with thecondors. They then purchased some breakfast and began to look about them. Whileit was still early, the narrow streets were quite well crowded withpeople, so much so that it looked to the visitors as if the inhabitantsnever slept. What they saw almost made them rub their eyes to makesure they were not in Asia instead of South America. There were dozensof almond-eyed Chinese within sight, dozens of black Hindoos in turbansand flowing garments, dozens of Parsees wearing long black coats andhats like inverted coal-scuttles; to say nothing of numerous Portugueseand English, the latter mostly merchants and plantation owners. The roofs of the buildings were slanting, with wooden or galvanizediron walls. Some of the more important of them, such as stores, warehouses, government buildings, etc. , were quite large, and stoodupon piles to keep them out of the way of floods which often sweep thelowlands in the rainy season. In many of the streets ran canals, whichtheir small guide told them, in pidgeon-English, were drains for thefloods. And he also said that the long embankments which the boys sawstretching along the sea front were dykes built at great expense by thesugar planters to keep these same floods from washing the rich soil oftheir fields out into the ocean. After purchasing some fresh fruit and groceries for their aeriallarder, the little party betook themselves back to the landing-field, on the way passing numbers of pretty little houses which stood in themidst of beautiful gardens filled with tropical plants. As they neared the field, they saw that quite a crowd had collectedsince their departure. Pushing their way through the concourse abouttheir own airplane, they were surprised to find Pete Deveaux and ChuckCrossman just jumping down from the wings. These flyers hurried awaythrough a gap in the circle of onlookers toward their own machinebefore our friends could accost them. The Sky-Bird crew were considerably put out at noting this situation, for they had particularly told the Chinese guards to let no one meddlewith the Sky-Bird. The Celestials were squatting unconcernedly uponthe ground, one on either side of the airplane, as John rushed up andsaid to one of them; "Didn't I tell you not to let any strangers aroundthis machine?" "No lettum stranger lound, " protested the fellow. "Him both flylersalla samee you. Like-um see, you see; like-um see, he see. " "Oh, ginger!" exclaimed John, turning to his comrades, in cleardisgust, "the stupid dunce thinks those fellows belong to us and we tothem, just because we all wear the same sort of flying clothes! Didyou ever see the like?" Paul now took up the questioning. "What were those fellows doing upthere?" he asked of the Chinaman. "No tellee me; no tellee Lee, " was the response, as the fellow jerkedhis head in the direction of his comrade. "Just lookee over alla sameeyou do li'l bit ago. " "Were they in the cabin?" demanded Paul. "No go in klabin. " They walked around the machine giving it a cursory looking over, butcould find nothing out of the way, and every one of them feltconsiderable relief. "I guess they were only taking a look to see if our construction wasthe same as theirs, " suggested Bob. This seemed a plausibleexplanation, and they accepted it, although with some misgivings. About ten minutes later they saw the crowd over in the other side ofthe field scattering, and then the _Clarion_ shot up into the air. Ina few minutes it was pointed down the coast and making good headway. Our friends were not quite ready, but when the other machine was a merespeck against the southwestern sky, they hopped off themselves, withPaul at the throttle. Not one of the party had any doubt but that theycould catch their rivals before the latter should arrive at Para, wherethey were due at six o'clock that evening. It needed only that firststage of the journey from Panama to Georgetown to show them that theyhad either the speediest craft or the most skillful crew. Paul mounted to a height of about two thousand feet, then let theSky-Bird straighten out in the direction of their next stop. He openedup the throttle little by little, and the machine rapidly gainedmomentum. But somehow the young pilot was dissatisfied. Finally hehitched the stick over to the notch which should have brought the craftinto a speed of 150 miles, and watched the speedometer closely. "Humph!" he ejaculated, after fifteen or twenty minutes. "Say, Paul, " cried Bob just then, "we're losing on the _Clarion_. She's clear out of sight now. " "Why don't you tell me something I don't know?" growled Paul in a tonevery queer for him. "What's the matter with you, Buddy?" demanded John, stepping up. "Youseem to have an awful grouch on, some way!" "Got a good reason for it, " snapped Paul. "This is enough to make apreacher almost swear. " "Don't talk, but speed her up a bit if you don't want them to getaway, " advised John. "She doesn't act right, somehow, " said Paul. "The Sky-Bird ought to behitting it up to a hundred and fifty right now, but she's only making ahundred and fifteen. She acts groggy; don't you notice it?" "I thought myself she was riding a little rocky--sort of out ofbalance, " admitted John. "Take the stick and try her yourself, " said his brother. John did so. For fifteen minutes he said nothing, but worked thethrottle and watched the speedometer. Then he called Paul again to theseat. "You might as well take her, Buddy, " declared John with a puzzled shakeof his head; "I can't do any better with her than you. She wallowsalong like a man with a load of buckshot in his pockets--heavy--andseems out of equilibrium, too!" "What do you suppose is the matter, John?" asked Tom Meeks. "I'll bet Pete Deveaux and that Chuck Crossman have been tampering withher, back there in Georgetown, " declared Bob. "I don't know; it certainly looks kind of suspicious, " admitted JohnRoss. He thought a moment. "Cattails and jewsharps!" he exclaimedvery suddenly. "What now?" asked Bob. "I believe I've hit the trouble, " stated John, with his brown face ashade paler. "You know we saw those fellows monkeying around ourwings. It would be an easy matter to trip one or more of those valvesand let some of the helium out! That would make us heavier, and ifmore gas were let out from one wing than from the other, we would beout of balance in the bargain. " This declaration of John's brought a startled and troubled look to thefaces of his companions. All knew that if Pete Deveaux had engineeredsuch a dastardly trick as John hinted at, a handicap would be in storefor the Sky-Bird's crew all through the remainder of the race, for itwould be impossible to get a renewal of their helium-gas supply beforereaching their own country again, and then it would be too late. "What shall we do?" came from Bob. "Do? There's nothing to do now, but to keep on flying at the best gaitwe can until we reach Para, " decided John. "When we get there we'llhave a chance to find out what is really wrong. " This seemed the wisest course to pursue. So Paul, vexed though he wasat the contrary actions of the airplane, buckled down to the job ofguiding the machine and complained no more. But he made up his mindthat if investigations proved the rival crew had been tampering withthe Sky-Bird II he, for one, would do his part in giving them a warmtime should they meet on the ground again. At noon while John and Tom slept, Bob relieved Paul, and for an hourthey made a little better time by working both engines; but, afraid ofoverheating the one they termed their "night engine", they went back toone motor for the rest of the journey into Para, where they arrived anhour late. And it was to find bad news awaiting them. The landing-field official announced that the _Clarion's_ flyers hadleft not fifteen minutes before for Freetown, Africa. And uponinvestigating the helium valves in the wings of the Sky-Bird, our boysfound to their dismay that fully a third of the pressure was gone, indicating that an equal quantity of gas had escaped in some manner. It may be added that there was very little doubt in their minds as tothis manner. CHAPTER XVII ACROSS THE ATLANTIC Our friends looked at each other dismally when they had ascertained thecause of the Sky-Bird's sluggish flying. Paul and Tom even gave thecraft a tentative push, and found that the loss of her helium had madeher so much heavier to move over the ground that the difference wasmanifest at once. "This looks kind of black for us, fellows, " remarked Bob. "And we've got those scoundrels to thank for it without the shadow of adoubt, " put in Paul, with flashing eyes. "I'd give a year of my lifeto get my hands on that Pete Deveaux right now. " "It's lucky they got out ahead of us, " added Tom significantly. "Well, if they were here, and if we thrashed the stuffing out of theentire bunch, that wouldn't put back our lost helium and former speed, "said the practical John. "What we've got to do now is to try to remedymatters. " "Easier said than done, I'm thinking, " Tom observed. "We can't get anymore helium here; in fact, not until we get back to Panama. Of coursethat will be too late. " "I don't know about that, " hinted John. "What's your remedy?" asked Bob. "I know, " said Paul. "The machine's out of balance now, because theyhave let more helium out of one wing than the other, and none at allout of the fuselage. By letting some out of our body tank, and enoughout of the lightest wing to bring it in equilibrium with its mate, wecan get a perfect balance again, and that ought to give us airsteadiness and more speed. " "Right you are, Buddy, " declared John. "Good head! That's my ideaexactly. " "But won't that make us even heavier than we are now?" inquired Bob. "Sure, " responded John, "but balance is the main thing in an airplane, you know. When we get that, the old girl will act a whole lot betterthan she did coming here. " "Still, our rivals will have some advantage over us, " argued Tom. "That's true--in the way of a lighter machine. But we've shown wecould outspeed them when the Sky-Bird was all right, and now we oughtto be about an even match for them, " said John. "That means a nip-and-tuck race of it, then, the rest of the way, "commented Paul. At this point a bright idea struck Bob. "Say, fellows, " he cried, "whycan't we send a wire message from here to Mr. Giddings at Panama, andask him to have a fast vessel drop a tank of helium off at Nukahiva, Marquesas Islands, for us?" His comrades slapped Bob so hard upon the back when he made thissuggestion that he had to stagger. "Fine idea, Bob!" declared John. "A fast boat ought to reach Nukahivabefore we do, and that will give us a full load of helium again for thelast four or five thousand miles of the race. If it's a close contestup to that point, the new supply may save the day for us!" They now set to work equalizing the gas supply in the wings of theSky-Bird and reducing that in the fuselage to the proper pressure forperfect equilibrium, which they were able to get by the use of thepressure-gauge and a little figuring. Then they went over all parts ofthe machine, put in gasoline and oil, and attended to watering theradiators, following which Paul and Bob departed for town. As in Georgetown, they created a vast interest, and were considerablyannoyed by the crowds of natives which followed at their heels, many ofwhom carried baskets of fruit on their heads and constantly importunedthem to buy some of their wares. Even in the windows of the housesthey passed women holding naked babies, who stared out at them, and inthe doorways stood girls, some of them beautifully gowned in silks, their dark hair falling like a shower about their comely nut-brownfaces, while their eyes opened wide in wonder or dropped in abashmentwhen they saw one of the handsome young Americans look their way. Para is directly on the equatorial line. It is also the metropolis ofthe mighty Amazon, the king of all the world's rivers, whose width hereat its mouth is close to two hundred miles, and which carries into theAtlantic so much mud from the interior of South America that it is saidthe waters of that ocean are stained yellow for five hundred milesoutward. This mighty stream is formed by countless mountain creeks andrivers draining practically the whole northern half of the continent, and these streams are formed in their turn by the heavy rains whichfall frequently from swiftly-gathered clouds. In fact, it rains nearlyevery afternoon in Para, and the air is always moist, so much so, thatarticles made of steel and iron quickly rust, and furniture must bepegged together rather than glued to keep it from coming apart. Paul and Bob found Para quite a good-sized city, but on very lowground. Along the docks of the mighty river were many kinds of boatsand ships, from stately ocean-liners to the tub-like barges used tofloat down from Bolivia great cargoes of raw rubber. There werenumerous schooners unloading vegetables and fruit, and countlessdugouts paddled by natives. Cargadores, in their bare feet, werecarrying goods in and out of the various large craft, supporting theheaviest of bundles on their bare heads. Their faces were all shadesof white, brown, and black. Among them were negroes from Jamaica, andSpaniards, Portuguese, and mulattoes from all parts of Brazil. The business buildings were three and four stories high, and builtclose to the sidewalks along narrow streets. Their walls, the boysnoticed as they crowded their way along, were of all colors, some beingfaced with blue, yellow, and green porcelain tiles. By asking questions they found the telegraph office, and there sent themessage to Mr. Giddings at Panama, requesting that the helium-gas besent to Nukahiva by fastest boat. They also wired a report of theirprogress. They had by this time another roll of exposed kodak films, and this was mailed to the _Daily Independent_. No sooner had they reappeared from the post-office than they were oncemore besieged with peddlers asking them to make a purchase of theirwares. Paul and Bob stopped when they saw some particularlyluscious-looking oranges and bananas, and were surprised upon askingthe price to find that they could have a dozen of each kind for thevalue of five cents; and oh! how sweet and juicy they were when theysank a tooth into them. They bought some baked goods in a little shop, and as they emerged anold man with a parrot on one shoulder and a small monkey on the otherblocked their pathway, and begged them to look at "nice parryote, nicemonk. " They shook their heads, when they saw other vendors crowding forward, and were about to push by when the monkey sprang nimbly upon Paul's ownshoulder, snatched off his cap, shook it in front of his eyes, and putit back in place again. Paul and Bob both laughed, and harder yet as the bright little animalshot a paw into Paul's pocket and adroitly drew out a Brazilian goldcoin called a milreis, worth about fifty-four cents in American money. "You give five milreis, me give monk, " said the old mulatto. Paul shook his head. "You give four milreis, me give monk. " "No; that's more than I have of these coins. " "You give three milreis, me give--" "Only have two of them left, " said Paul. "You give two milreis, take monk. " "It's a bargain, " laughed Paul. And he fished another of the coins out of his pocket, accepted the endof the rope tied to the monkey, and went off with Bob, hisnewly-acquired pet still contentedly occupying his shoulder. "We'll surprise John and Tom when we get back to the field, " chuckledPaul. "They won't be looking for this addition to the crew of theSky-Bird. " "I'd say not, " declared Bob, also chuckling. And indeed Paul's little hairy friend did create a lot of interest whenthey arrived beside the airplane, John and Tom both playing with him, for several minutes, and going into hilarious laughter at the funnyantics of the weazened-faced creature, which looked so much like thewrinkled old mulatto from whom he had been purchased, that Paul said heshould henceforth be called "Grandpa. " They put the monkey in the cabin, and climbed in themselves, since allwas in readiness for the departure. Night had fallen, but the sky wasclear and moonlit. So there was no trouble, by helping matters withtheir searchlight, in hopping off and turning their head across the bigAtlantic toward the shores of Africa. As the trade-winds were blowing quite stiffly in their faces, John, whowas at the throttle, determined to mount high enough to overcome theirmost resistant effects. When at an altitude of about five thousandfeet, he brought the Sky-Bird out horizontally, with her nose set bycompass toward Freetown. Before they could reach this African seaportit would be necessary for them to travel considerably more than twothousand miles and meet whatever storms might develop. But all hadsuch confidence in the capabilities of the Sky-Bird that none had anyworries, fierce as some of the Atlantic storms were known to be. As they could no longer see the sea beneath them, owing to the darknessand fog which lay between, John had to rely entirely upon intuition andhis compass to strike Freetown. Aerial navigation over immense bodiesof water is similar to navigation on the seas themselves, except thatthe indispensable sextant of the mariner is of little use in the air, owing to the high speed of travel and the fact that allowances have tobe made for the drift of the machine when side-winds are blowing--anextremely difficult factor to determine accurately. In side-winds the machine makes leeway in addition to its forwardmovement, and it is the ratio of one to the other which the successfulpilot must work out correctly, especially when flying above clouds orwhen land features are unobserved. In this particular instance ourboys were supplied with charts indicating the trend of all normal windsin each locality and their approximate force at various altitudes. Thus, by consulting his speedometer, John was able to figure out with afair degree of certainty what allowances he should make from deadreckoning in order to strike their destination--or rather, we shouldsay that Tom, as John's aid, did most of this figuring, for a pilotgenerally has his hands full in guiding his steed. The Sky-Bird was acting much better now, since her equalizing of weightback at Para. She lacked some of the speed of her old-time self, butrode smoothly and evenly in the hardest gusts. It was once more apleasure to sit in her cabin, even if the rival airplane was ahead ofthem. "We'll give them the race of their lives yet, " observed Tom, as hestudied the map and the speedometer alternately. "We surely will, " said his companion. And both of them clicked their teeth in a way which boded no good forthe rival craft ahead. Shortly before midnight they crossed the equator for the second timesince they had left Panama. But, rolled in their comfortable hammocksand sound asleep, with Grandpa, the monkey, blinking drowsily in acorner nearby, neither Bob nor Paul was conscious of the fact. CHAPTER XVIII AN IRRITATING DELAY Paul was awakened the next morning by feeling a gentle tug at his nose. Unused to such a summons as this, he opened his eyes with a start. There on his breast squatted Grandpa, his little head cocked comicallyto one side, his beady little eyes glistening with mischief, and hisslim fingers just reaching out for another tweak. The monkey gave alightning-like spring to the back of a nearby seat when he saw Paullooking at him, and here he set up a shrill chattering, which alsoawoke Bob and caused Tom and John to whirl around. "You fellows have got a good alarm-clock now, the way it looks, " calledTom, laughing, and taking in the situation. "Grandpa will save Johnand me the trouble of stirring you sleepy heads up after this, Iexpect. " Paul and Bob sprang out of their hammocks, and the former seized themonkey and laughingly shoved his nose up against one of the windowpanes. Far down below were the rolling billows of the great Atlantic, the early sun striking them into many beautiful tones of green andblue, and cutting a silver pathway across the curling crests. A schoolof dolphins was leaping out of the water off to the left. From theopposite window the youth could see a small emerald island in thedistance, but everywhere else was water, vast reaches of it. Grandpa evidently had no eye for nature, as viewed from this novelposition, for he quickly twisted out of Paul's arms and jumped down tothe floor of the cabin, where he pranced about excitedly. "It's just a little bit too high to suit your exalted monkeyship, isn'tit?" chuckled Paul. "Well, you'll get used to it, Grandpa, before youget around the world with us! I'll promise you, sir, that you will bethe farthest-jumping and highest-jumping monkey that ever lived. Youought to be proud!" After getting something to eat, Paul relieved Tom at the throttle, andBob tried to get Freetown by radio. Failing, he did get Para, andadvised them of their safety and approximate position over the Atlantic. Now that the weather had cleared up so that they could run in view ofthe ocean, John and Tom themselves turned in for a much-needed sleep, leaving their younger companions to direct the course of the Sky-Birdon the last stage of the lap. The trade-winds were blowing freely, butwith a lack of gustiness which made progress against them quite rapidand smooth. It was two hours later that those in the Sky-Bird saw the coastline ofAfrica jutting out into the sea in a great bulge, and a littleafterward they recognized landmarks agreeing with their chart. As theywere slightly south of their course, Bob made the proper deviation, andin twenty minutes they were over a muddy field, marked with thelooked-for white T, at Freetown, Sierra Leone. As they were spiraling downward they saw a crowd of natives gathered inone portion of the field, and caught a glimpse of an airplane's wingsin their midst. Many of this throng now rushed over to where thenewcomers had landed, among them a tall Englishman, who introducedhimself as the port minister and person who was to supply them with areplacement of fuel. Several other Englishmen, all officers in thegarrison of the town, came up and were introduced. "We 'av' been looking for you fellows, but not quite so soon, " statedthe port minister. "Hif I had known--" "How is that?" asked John. "We are just about on schedule. " "So you are; but those other flyers over there, who 'av' been 'ere thepast two 'ours declared you 'ad been delayed in South Hamerica handwould not be hin before to-morrow morning, so as we 'av' a coastingvessel with more petrol due 'ere then, I let them 'av' hall the petrolthey wanted, hand I fear--" "They had no reason for telling you we were delayed to such an extentas that, without it was to further their own interests, " interruptedJohn, significantly. "But I don't see their game. " "I don't know, I'm sure, " was the response; "but has I was saying, theyasked for an hextra filling of their tanks, hand so--well, gentlemen, Iam sorry to say it, but there hisn't ten gallons left. " Our friends heard this with mixed feelings. They were rightfullyincensed at their rivals for such a dastardly trick, vexed with theport minister, and dismayed to think that they would have to wait untilthe following day before they could resume their journey, for at Parathey had not filled their tanks to capacity. At this point cries arose in the other part of the field. They heardthe familiar whir of an airplane propeller, and as they looked to wherethe _Clarion_ had stood, they saw the natives scatter and the graymachine of the other crew shoot up into the air. Rapidly it gainedaltitude, and was soon a mere dot on the western sky. Ignoring the yells of the port minister and his military countrymen, the _Clarion_ crew had gone straight on, and there seemed nothing forour boys to do now except await the arrival of more gasoline aspatiently as they could. John and Tom set to work cleaning up the Sky-Bird, for the field herewas low and very muddy from recent rains, and as they had dashedthrough the slime in landing much of it had splattered over theirpropeller and under-carriage. Paul and Bob went into town, followed by a throng of young negroes whofought for the privilege of getting closest to them. They found thestores small and mostly unpainted, and the houses principally shamblingand squatty, most of them having thatched roofs. The streets werenarrow, crooked, and dirty, but there were areas about some of the morepretentious dwelling-places which were really entrancing in the wealthof their tropical plants and stately palms. On the whole, the stonegarrison, setting a little remote from the town proper, was the largestand best-constructed building, although this looked old and somber. Freetown, the capital of the little British colony of Sierra Leone, isall on low ground, and the air is moist and extremely humid, evenunhealthful for those not accustomed to it. Just before dark a terrific thunder-shower sprang up with all of thesuddenness of such equatorial storms, and Bob and Paul made for thefield as fast as their legs could carry them. They sprang inside ofthe Sky-Bird's cabin, wet to the skin, where John and Tom were alreadyensconsed, and Grandpa the monkey gave them a noisy and hearty welcome. A little later, with the rain pattering heavily down upon the roof, allhands turned in for the first ground sleep they had had since startingout upon their trip. Shortly after daylight the next morning they were astir, to find therain had ceased but that the field was a mass of ooze. Through thisTom made his way to the cobblestone street and down to the piers. Butthe coasting steamer had not yet arrived; in fact, she did not come inuntil after eight o'clock, and it was two hours later before the flyerssucceeded in getting their tanks filled with the gasoline she hadbrought. Then it was found necessary to secure the aid of a half-dozennegroes, and to lay down many strips of heavy bark for traction, beforethe Sky-Bird could be run out of her mired position. Paul was at the throttle as they took off. When he had attained a fairaltitude, he gradually increased the speed until they were running fullout. Never since the beginning of the trip had they felt such urgentneed of putting the airplane through at a fast clip, but that time hadnow come, for they were fourteen hours behind schedule time and sixteenhours behind their rivals. The Sky-Bird fairly cut the air like a knife, and the roar ofpropeller, wind, and engine was so great that our friends foundconversation out of the question except by shouting in one another'sears. Poor Grandpa cowered in the farthest corner of the cabin, peeping out from behind one of the hammocks, as meek as a kitten, histail crooking uneasily. But finding that the strange noises did him noharm, he presently came out and took up a position where he could lookthrough the glass-floor window at the fleeting country below. It seemed only a few minutes before, rising higher, they shot over theragged chain of the Kong Mountains in western Senegambia, passingwithin sight of Mount Loma's bare peak. Then, dropping again untilthey were not more than a thousand feet high, they flew along over thetablelands to the eastward, recognized the Joliba River as it lay ayellow, twisting band below them, and a little later crossed thesouthern end of the district of Bambarra. Great forests and jungles and canebrakes swept past them. In thosetangles of gnarled trees, matted vines, interlacing rank grasses, andclusters of towering plants, so dank with the odor of wet and decaythat the air even up where the flyers were seemed charged with it, lurked many a monster reptile and ferocious beast. Often the four boyssaw the majestic form of a lion or the lumbering shape of an elephantas these animals were quenching their thirst at some open spot along astream. And once they caught a brief glimpse of a terrific combatbetween what seemed to be two enormous rhinos, which had met in alittle glen in the midst of a cluster of mahogany trees. How theywould have liked to see the finish of this battle royal! Indeed, theywould have enjoyed nothing better than to land in some favored spot anddo a little big-game hunting with their rifles! If they had been ahead of their adversaries instead of behind, theymight have indulged in such sport, they thought. But now it would beunwise to waste a moment. They must make every endeavor to reach theirnext airport, Kuka, by nightfall. This small town was on the westernbank of the salty Lake Chad, in the very heart of Africa, and on thesouthern border of the great Sahara Desert. It possessed no railroadsor telegraph service, being linked with the outside world only bycaravan route, and its inhabitants were practically all half-civilizednegroes of the Fulbee tribe, who retained all of their forefathers'superstitions and wore no garb over their frescoed black bodies excepta short gikki or skirt. Mr. Giddings and Mr. Wrenn had had great difficulty in getting anEnglish-speaking man to set up a field at this point for their flyers, and it was only after considerable telegraphing that a Scotch tradernamed MacInnis, situated at Lagos, the nearest coast-port of any size, had agreed to get a supply of gasoline and oil to Kuka and meet theairplanes when they arrived. It was five o'clock when the boys passed over the low banks of theNiger River. By seven they were in the heart of the wild, levelterritory of Sokoto, skimming over vast expanses of plume-like grassesand extensive marshes and swamps. Strange birds of enormous size flewup out of the morasses, startled at the sight and sound of theairplane. Some tried to follow it, evidently to give it battle, butthe swiftest of them were hopelessly outdistanced before they were wellstarted. When the sun disappeared behind the forest back of them, the flyerswere still making speed for their destination, with Bob at thethrottle. Pretty soon the lengthening shadows and obscuring of detailbelow convinced the crew that night was just about upon them, and thatif they did not reach Kuka within the next thirty minutes they werevery likely to be in such darkness that they would overrun it and neverknow the difference. Some of them began to wonder if they had not missed their course, whena cry came from Bob, and they all ran forward and looked out of thefront windows at the object he was pointing out. CHAPTER XIX SAVED BY THE SEARCHLIGHT What our flyers saw was a very large body of water, with a strong toneof blue to it. As far to the north as they could see, it stretched, also to the east and south. And the shoreline on the western sidenearest them was covered with what seemed a never-ending border ofgreat forest trees, many of which had all the characteristics ofmangroves. This great expanse of water they knew could not be the Red Sea, norcould it be the Indian Ocean; for they had not traveled far enoughwestward to reach these bodies. Unquestionably, therefore, it was thatwhich they were looking for--Lake Chad. As they swept nearer, under reduced speed, they observed somewhat totheir left a good-sized collection of dwellings in an opening among themangroves, evidently a town. Swerving in that direction they were sooncircling above the place at an altitude of about five hundred feet, hoping that it might prove to be Kuka, their next stop. By this time it had grown so dark that they could just make out thebuildings and surroundings. The former seemed to be nothing more thanrude huts with rounded thatched roofs covered by saplings. The flyerssaw many dark figures, with little or no garb, running about andexcitedly gesticulating upward to their position. As they circledlower, these figures, evidently natives, suddenly vanished within theirabodes. "They seem scared to death of us, " remarked Paul, laughing. "Apparently they think the Sky-Bird is some gigantic member of thefeathered kingdom about to swoop down and devour them for their sins, "added Paul, who was equally amused. "Pete Deveaux and his crowd oughtto have landed here some time this morning, though, and you would thinkthe sight of their machine taking on gas would have gotten the blacksused to an airplane. " Be that as it may, every one of the dusky figures below had vanished asthough the earth had swallowed them up. A strange if not forebodingstillness hung over the town. You would have thought it contained nota single being, at least not one who was awake. All at once John, who had been intently looking around the outskirts ofthe town, observed an open spot marked with the welcome sign of a whiteT. He joyfully called the attention of his comrades to this, and asthey looked they saw the form of a man emerge from the shadowsbordering the field and wave his arms upward at them. From the factthat this person was attired in European costume, they judged he mustbe Mr. MacInnis, the Scotch trader who had been appointed to look aftertheir fuel interests at this point. It was a novel experience to be able to make a landing unhampered bythrongs of curious inhabitants, as they now did. The field was quitelevel, though sandy, as might be expected so close to the big desert, and they had to dodge several clumps of small growths, presumably jujutrees, before they could taxi to a stop. The man in linen now rushed up to them, and introduced himself as Mr. MacInnis. He hurriedly shook hands with the boys, displaying, theythought, great nervousness while greeting them, and several times heturned his head and looked in the direction of the nearest shacks ofthe town. Then he asked what they thought a very queer question. "Have youfellows enough petrol and oil to last you through to your next stop?" "That's Aden, " answered John; "we didn't fill to capacity at Freetown, and I'm afraid not. Why, what is the matter? Haven't you any fuelhere for us?" "I have plenty of both petrol and oil here for you, " said theScotchman, with another look toward the huts, "but I am afraid for yourlives if you stay to put it aboard. " "How is that?" cried Tom, his usually smiling countenance growing soberfor once, while his companions felt a vague uneasiness. "It's this way, " stated MacInnis. "About eight o'clock this morningthe airplane that is racing you came in. It was the first machine ofthe kind the natives had ever seen, and they were greatly frightened, thinking Jobbajobba, one of their heathen devils, had appeared in theguise of a great bird, and was about to attack the children of thewicked of them. When the aviators climbed out, and they saw that theywere human, they lost some of this fear, but remained at a respectabledistance all the time the 'great bird was being given a drink. ' Thentwo of the men--one was the slender and dark-complexioned fellow--wentinto the town sight-seeing. In the course of their rounds they stolethe ivory head, set with gold eyes and teeth, off of the body of one ofthe tribe's most cherished idols, the god of Ogu Nogo. This was notdiscovered until the aviators had departed in their airplane, but thenthe Fulbees were wild with rage at the 'bird-men, ' as they called them, and swore to kill them if they should ever return. To-night theyobserved you landing, as I did. They are now in hiding, probably withweapons, and are undoubtedly watching your every move, ready to strikewhen the time comes, thinking you to be those other fellows or men ofas evil instincts. As I said, I fear for your lives if you tarryhere. " And as he finished he once more glanced nervously around at thehuts and shacks in the gloom of the fast-gathering night. But in that direction all was so quiet that John hopefully remarked: "Ithink they are too frightened to appear. We need more gasoline, as wehave been running very hard and our tanks are low. We will hurrymatters up, and three of us will fill while the other stands guard witha rifle. " Mr. MacInnis then helped John, Tom, and Paul carry the big square tinsof British petrol, which is the same as American gasoline, from thefield shelter to the Sky-Bird, where, in the course of a half-hour, twohundred gallons were poured into the tanks, also ten gallons of oil. In the meantime, Bob Giddings, rifle in hand, stood close by, alert fordanger. He watched the nearest buildings of the natives sharply, butthough he saw numbers of black figures skulking in the shadows amongthem, no sign of hostility was observed. The Scotchman had signed his name to the document certifying to thestop of the flyers at Kuka, --the paper on which they were to securecertifications at every scheduled airport, --and they were just in theact of starting over to the field tank to get some water for theairplane's radiators, when, without a moment's warning a hair-raisingchorus of yells broke out on the brooding night air, and scores ofsavage-looking figures sprang from the shadows of the buildings intothe open field. They emerged in a long straggling line, hooting andbrandishing guns, spears and bows. They advanced toward the airplanein peculiar hops and side jumps, as if fearing an attack uponthemselves. Not once did they cease their blood-curdling shouts. Rapidly they neared the objects of their anger and hatred. For a full five seconds the boys stood as if rooted in their tracks, too horrified and astounded to think or act. The sharp voice of theScotchman, however, brought them to their senses. "You've fooled here too long; it's too late to get away now! They'remad as wet hornets. Jump inside your cabin quick, and defendyourselves as well as you can!" "But you, sir?" cried Tom. "They won't harm me, because I'm not a flyer. " The boys dashed into the cabin and shut the door, while the Scotchmanhurried away from the airplane. It was certain that there was no timeto get out and crank the propeller and rise before the mad Fulbeeswould be upon them. Cornered in the little cabin of the machine theywould sell their lives as dearly as possible. As they stood, guns in hand, watching through the windows, while thefrenzied blacks drew cautiously nearer, spreading a cordon of hundredsall around the Sky-Bird, they could see in the moonlight that theFulbees were grotesquely painted on arms and faces, while their bodieswere entirely naked except for a dirty-looking cloth wrapped aroundtheir loins in the form of a short skirt. Every one of them was armed, and as they contracted their circle, guns, spears, and bows werefrequently raised in threatening position; but for some reason no shotswere fired. The inmates knew, however, that when nearer approachbrought more assurance of hitting their target, the blacks could becounted upon to open up actual hostilities. And now this thought brought a sudden and grave fear to their minds, one unnoticed before. The helium-gas tanks in the hollow wings andrear fuselage! Bullets, spears and arrows striking them wouldpenetrate, and the tanks thus punctured would lose their last ounce ofthe precious gas! It was a terrible predicament in which the flyers now found themselves, to be sure. By fighting they might preserve their lives, but that veryact would make their world-trip impossible. What could they do? As the drowning man catches with hope at the floating straw. Bob nowconceived an almost impossible but startling idea for delivering themfrom their dilemma. "The searchlight!" he cried. "These blacks never have seen one. Perhaps we can frighten them away with ours!" "Great idea, Bob, " approved John, while the others also applauded thescheme. "Paul, you work the lever that revolves the lamp up on top ofthe cabin there, and, Bob, you throw in the juice. " No sooner had he spoken, than both boys were at their stations. Thenext moment a great white path, widening as it went, streamed out intothe darkness, lighting up everything in its reach with the brilliancyof day, but with a bluish-whiteness which must have been decidedlyterrifying to the superstitious negroes. Like an accusing finger thestrange light swept around the field, raising and lowering, resting afew moments on this group and then that group of petrified, hideously-painted faces, from which eyeballs stood out like knobs ofwhite marble. In an instant their incensed cries had ceased, and they had shrunk, cringing, back in their tracks. But only for a few moments, and thentheir gurgled yells arose once more, this time in ear-splitting fright, as all turned and fled toward the nearest forest. And that great, terrifying white eye of the big "bird" followed them, shining for manya rod on black backs which were so wet with perspiration that theylooked like oiled eelskin. Weapons were thrown in every direction asthe Fulbees fled. Whenever one would look around and see that glaringeye looking straight at him, he would shut his own eyes and shriek, andthen go dashing frantically on. Some even threw themselves prostratewhen the flood overtook them, and uttered invocations to their gods forprotection from the monster, until they could pluck up courage enoughto continue their flight. Had the situation not recently been such a serious one for them--indeedthey were not out of it yet!--the flyers would have roared withlaughter. As it was, they kept the light traveling over the Fulbeesuntil the very last one had fled. Then at a quick word from John, theyall jumped out of the cabin and swung the airplane around for a quicktake-off. Tom spun the propeller; there was a roar as the engine caught, and afew seconds later they were mounting up into the starlit heavens of theequatorial night. At a height of two thousand feet, they presentlylooked down, safe from the menace of the black populace whose receptionhad been so rabid. But Kuka was blotted out in the mantle of gloom which lay between. Only the sparkling ripples of Lake Chad, struck by the beautifultropical moon, could be seen. CHAPTER XX A JUNGLE ADVENTURE So fast had the flyers in the Sky-Bird come across the western part ofthe African continent, at its greatest bulge, that, coupled with theirvery brief stop in Kuka, they found they were starting out for Aden, Arabia, with a gain of approximately seven hours upon their lost timeof fourteen hours in Freetown. They were now, therefore, just sevenhours behind schedule--perhaps a little more than that behind theirrivals, --but in the very fact that they were cutting down both items, they felt vastly encouraged, and as the airplane headed eastward acrossLake Chad there was only one thing to worry them to any extent. This was the need of water; that is, all felt that the need wouldbecome an urgent one before daylight should come and a chance be givento land and replenish the limited amount which they knew must now be inthe radiator, owing to the impossibility of getting water as expectedat Kuka. John was at the throttle, with Tom assisting. Paul and Bob wereplaying with Grandpa, still too excited over their recent adventure toturn in and get some sleep, as John said they ought to do. After alittle while they turned their attention to studying the chart andschedule. Frequently they compared notes, and now and then jotted downsome figures on a pad. "Do you know, John, " observed Paul, looking up very cheerfully, "thatif we continue to travel at the rate we did between Freetown and Kukawe shall make up all lost time by morning, and arrive at Aden about onschedule?" "You don't say!" exclaimed John. "You kids have made a mistake, " informed Tom disbelievingly. "No mistake about it, " protested Bob; "it's an out-and-out fact. " "Well, that's cheerful news, then, " said Tom. "I know we hit her up towell over two hundred an hour coming across to Kuka. " "And we'll do as much on this stretch, if our water only holds out, "declared John determinedly. "That's the rub, " put in Paul. "I'm sure it won't hold out, and if wework right up to the last drop, I'm afraid we may have to make a forcedlanding, and that may be in the tops of the trees, for all we know. " "Or on an elephant's back, " added Bob jocosely. "Well, I don't know but that we had better try to make a landing assoon as we come to a favorable spot where there is water, " remarkedJohn. "It is a fine moonlight night, and if we strike the right placeI think we can make the ground. In a pinch, you know, we can use oursearchlight. " "Speaking about searchlights--oh my! oh, my! will I ever forget howfrightened those blacks were?" And Paul laughed until the tears cameinto his eyes, now that the tension was off. Tom joined him until bothof them staggered and bumped together, causing Grandpa to set up anexcited chatter of inquiry. John kept the Sky-Bird low, down to less than a thousand feet, aftercrossing the lower neck of Lake Chad, for the chart showed no markedelevations which would make flying at that height hazardous, and it wascertain that the closer they were to the earth the better they coulddetect a favorable place to land. It was really a beautiful night, and they opened the cabin windowsafter a while to enjoy the soft balmy air to the full. The wind thenrushed through the cabin like a hurricane, roaring so that conversationwas out of order; but they enjoyed its cool touch on their hot faces. One by one the stars had made their appearance, until now the heavensfairly glittered with them. How pretty they looked up there in thegreat blue vault in which they seemed the choicest settings of anangel's handiwork! Somehow they seemed to sparkle more brightly, andthe sky seemed a richer cobalt, than the sky the boys knew at home. But they missed many of the stars which they loved in America. Theswift airplane in which they rode had taken them, day by day, and nightby night, away from them. Many stars which were unknown to them hadtaken their places, and they realized more strongly than all thepictures in the world could have shown them how very unlike were theskies of the northern and southern hemispheres. One of the most striking sights to them now was the constellation ofthe Cross, commonly known by mariners as the Southern Cross, and whichis composed of four brilliant stars. Sirius, Canopus, and Centaur alsofilled a part of the heavens with their splendid light. Mars, Venus, Saturn, and Jupiter were old friends in new surroundings, and were alldazzlingly dressed. The part of the Milky Way between the stars Siriusand Centaur was so rich in stars and crowded nebula: that it seemed aperfect blaze of illumination. And there were the Magellanic clouds, white-looking patches made up of countless stars individually unseen tothe naked eye, and nebulae--mists of radiating light--all shiningbrilliantly and revolving around the starless South Pole. To thenorthward was the constellation of the Great Bear, which reaches itsmeridian altitude about the same time as the constellations of theCross and the Centaur. As the boys looked, stars appeared anddisappeared. They were like a succession of guests, coming and going. After a while, the flyers saw a small river glinting in the moonlightand running along for the most part in the direction they were taking. "The first time we come to a level, open spot along this stream we willtry for a landing, " stated John. "It will afford us plenty of waterfor the radiator if we can get down to it. " "And plenty of water for a good plunge, too, " said Paul. "I haven'thad a bath since we left Miami, and I'm fairly suffering for a wetting, if it's no more than a quick dip. " "Same here, " seconded Bob and Tom. They were running much lower now, on the lookout for a place to stop, and so once more they could hear each other's voices. Presently, just after clearing a dense forest, they saw the openingthey sought. It was a grassy level, free of bushes and otherobstructions, and well bathed in the soft light of the stars and moon. After some careful maneuvering, John brought the Sky-Bird down, andthough the tall grasses wound in the landing-gear in coming to a stop, they broke off without doing any damage. "We'd better take the guns along, " Tom remarked. "That's so, " agreed John; "we might run into some ferocious animal inthis wild jungle. " So each armed himself with a rifle and a pail, and John led the way, ashe was the only one of the party supplied with a lantern, the othershaving small flashlights which were none too good for breaking a pathin such wilds. They knew the river lay a short distance to the north, but in order to reach its banks from the place where they had landed, they had to cut through a strip of woods bordering it. It was tedious work getting through. The trees were close together andhad to be dodged, and great leaves of plants as large as their bodiesseemed to be everywhere, while vines of the toughest fiber frequentlyshut off their passage and had to be pushed aside or cut with knives. More than once one of the party tripped over unseen obstacles andmeasured his length in the soft, rank ground-vegetation. But it was only a little way to the river, and soon they stood upon itsgrassy bank. It was a pretty stream, not very deep, and seemed quiteclear when John held the lantern down to it. They filled their pails, and then, risking all dangers of snakes and crocodiles, disrobed for aplunge. First one and then the other jumped in. How refreshing the cool watersfelt to their hot, sticky bodies! They would have liked to do somediving, but were afraid of sunken logs, and contented themselves bysplashing about, swimming a little, and making the woods ring withtheir laughter and shouts. Then they came out and put on their clothes. Picking up guns oncemore, and the pails now filled with water, they started back, Johnstill leading. But they had not gone far when somewhere in advance ofthem they thought they heard the sound of a breaking limb. So suddenwas the sound on the still night air, that all stopped very quickly, their hearts beating fast. They listened, but the sound was not repeated. They started on again, thinking the limb must have been a dead one and had fallen from sometree of its own weight. But scarcely had they taken a dozen steps whenthey heard another sharp cracking of wood, this time very close infront of them. Their intuition told them now that they were near to some night prowlerof the animal kingdom, and perhaps one of considerable size, judgingfrom the crash. Hardly realizing what they were doing, they set downtheir pails, and cocked their rifles, facing, with alertness anduneasiness, the direction whence the sounds had come. Now they heard some rustling, as of leaves, directly ahead. It cameslowly and cautiously closer. Just as it seemed about to burst outupon their view it stopped. There was no more noise. All was silent;not even the note of a night-bird or the gentle chirp of an insectcould be heard. For the first time the soughing of the tree-tops inthe soft breeze above failed to meet their ears. What a deathlystillness it was! Suddenly, right out of the black shadows ahead, there sounded on thehushed air of the night three terrific yells, one following immediatelyafter the other. These piercing cries had hardly died out whenanother, of deeper note, and a veritable roar, filled the forest withits din. The leaves about the boys seemed fairly to quiver under theviolent guttural reverberations. John Ross may well have been excused for shaking as he held up hislantern in his right hand and threw its rays upon the tall undergrowthahead, while his fingers tightened like bands of steel around the stockof his repeating-rifle. As he and his companions looked, they saw peeping through the foliage ablack, fierce face, one of the ugliest and most ferocious that mancould have imagined. It was staring straight at them. The brute'seyes were sunken under a heavy overhanging ridge of dusky skin. Hiseyes were small and black, and the iris of each shone like a diamondset in carbon. His forehead was low, receding, and covered with shortbristling hair. His nose was broad and flat. His great jaw protrudedfrightfully, with the upper thin lip pressed tight, the lower curvingaway and displaying a row of long yellow tusks which could have bittenthe hand off a man with one crunch. The animal now opened his cavernous mouth, and uttered yell after yellagain, these sounding something like the bark of a dog but being ahundred times louder. They were followed by terrific roars, somewhatsimilar to those of a lion, though of much greater volume. The criesrang through the forest from hill to hill, and died away in thedistance. The woods was filled with the echo of his horrible voice. Then, very slowly his whole body came in sight. He advanced clumsilyand ponderously towards the little party of flyers, walking erect, hisplain intent being to kill them. His short legs were hardly strongenough, as sturdy as they were, to support his huge body. All at oncehe stopped to look at them. How vindictive his eyes were! They seemedto say to the boys: "I will soon finish you!" Then he beat his chest with his great fists and the noise was like abandman striking a bass-drum. It was his challenge to combat. Howlong and muscular were the shaggy arms that directed these blows! Howbroad was his chest from which the sounds came! The hair stood almosterect on his body, and the hair on his head moved up and down. This hesitation of the monster proved the salvation of the flyers. Itgave them a chance to pull their shattered nerves together and elevatetheir rifles. As he must keep the light on the creature, which now allrecognized as a large gorilla, so that his companions and himself couldsee to shoot, John had only one arm with which to handle his gun. Buthe brought the weapon up quickly, and pressed the trigger just as threeother shots rang out from the guns of his companions, who had steppedon either side of their leader. A hoarse yell of rage and pain answered the reports. They saw thegorilla stagger, then drop to all fours, and lunge toward them. There was no chance to retreat. As quick as a flash John dropped hisown rifle, so that he could hold the lantern in both hands and directits rays better upon the beast, and cried to his comrades to fire again. No sooner had the words left his lips than the others brought theirrepeaters once more to their shoulders. On account of the poor lighton the barrels of their weapons they were again compelled to take snapshots, shooting with both eyes open; but this time with greater success. The big gorilla fell, uttering a fearful groan. He rolled over uponhis back, his massive limbs twitched convulsively, and then he wasstill. Going up to him cautiously with the lantern, they found that hewas dead. Extended, his great arms measured nearly nine feet; his chest had agirth of seven feet, and he lacked only one inch of being six feet inheight. These facts Tom ascertained with the use of a small tapelinewhich he carried in his pocket. "Let's skin him, " said Tom; "I know how, and it won't take but a fewminutes. " "Sure, " agreed Paul; "his skin will be a valuable trophy to take backhome with us. Jiminy, I wish it had been daylight and we had broughtour camera with us! We could have secured some pictures worth whilefor the _Daily Independent_. " With his keen-edged sheath knife, Tom soon had the skin removed fromthe giant brute. The performance of this operation was far from anagreeable one, however, both for surgeon and observers. So human-likewas the gorilla that it seemed like skinning a man! As they made their way onward again, carrying their trophy in a rolltied with withes made from vines. Bob ventured to say: "I wonder howthe gorilla came to be awake and to attack us this way?" "I think he must have had a mate, perhaps a family, nearby, " repliedJohn. "I have read that the mother and her babies always go up into atree to sleep, while the father squats down at its base to guard them, and here he sleeps with one eye open and the other closed, as thesaying is. At least he arouses at the slightest sound of an enemy. Weprobably awakened him by our shouts while in bathing, and being soclose to him when we came back along a slightly different path, hethought we were going to attack the family upstairs, and showed fightright away. " The little party regained their airplane without further incident; theradiator was drained, and the fresh water put in. Then, feeling thatthere was no further danger of the engines running hot, they took off. As the Sky-Bird arose into the air, the flyers noticed that Grandpa themonkey was slightly excited. This they attributed to the presence ofthe gorilla's skin; but when they saw Grandpa continue to dash wildlyabout the cabin, from their shoulders to the rear window, out of whichhe would take a quick look only to fly back to them and chatter wildlyand coweringly, Paul thought he would see what could be the trouble. One glance was enough. He shut the open window with a bang, and turnedto his companions with a pale face. "Fellows, " said he; "we've got a passenger!" "A passenger?" cried they. "Yes, " said Paul, "a monstrous big snake!" CHAPTER XXI THE DOUBLE LOOP For a moment or two John and Bob stared at Paul blankly, unable tocomprehend the import of his announcement. Tom was at the throttle, and while he had heard the startling words, he was too occupied inguiding the Sky-Bird to do anything except take a quick glance backward. "A snake?" repeated Bob. "Not on the machine?" cried John. "Yes, " Paul said, with a seriousness which left no further doubt as tothe truth of his statement. "He's a whopper--must be twelve orfourteen feet long and as thick as my leg. He's there on the fuselagejust outside of the window, hanging on for dear life. If I hadn't shutthat window just as I did, I believe he would have crawled in here in aminute. " John and Bob now hurried to the window and looked out. In themoonlight they could distinctly see a huge reptile, either a python ora boa-constrictor, coiled up in the angle formed by the juncture of theairplane body and the broad base of the left wing. The creature was solong that its tail passed up over the rounded fuselage and out upon theother wing. Bob flashed his electric pocket lamp upon it, and by theyellow and brown mottled spots upon its body and the double plates ofwhitish scale at its tale, and the wicked-looking triangular head, theywere sure it must really be a python, one of the most dreaded ofAfrican snakes. These creatures think a monkey a very choice morsel offood, and undoubtedly it had been attracted to the airplane, while itstood in the grass, by the appearance of Grandpa in the open cabinwindow, but had been frustrated in its designs by the return of theflyers and the sudden rising of the machine. Now, with the window shut, the boys seemed safe enough for the present. They could see that the big snake was extremely uneasy. As the windwhistled by him, his great tail twisted and untwisted, and he seemed tobe trying to get a better hold on the smooth surface, while his beadyeyes glared at them only a moment in the glow of the flashlight, andthen he transferred his attention to the landscape below them. Hisforked fangs darted in and out during this time with the angriestlightning-like movement. Paul relieved Tom at the throttle for a few minutes, so that the lattercould have a look at the reptile. When Tom came back again to his post, he said, with plain uneasiness:"I never saw such a big snake before, Paul. Between the rush of windand the roar of the engine and propeller, he seems scared out of hiswits. " "We've got to get him off of there somehow--and mighty soon, too, " putin John, with decision. "Tom, if that monster should begin to slip alittle most likely he will coil his tail around some of our controlwires, --and then what?" Their faces blanched at this prospect. They knew what that would mean. It would mean that the great creature would either operate theairplane's rudders when they should not be operated, or would preventTom from moving them when they must be moved. In either event, theresult would be disaster to machine and crew. "Good heavens, boys!" said Tom, so nervous his voice shook, "get rid ofthat snake as quick as you can!" He fancied he could see the rearcontrol levers moving at that instant. The other three flyers knew the importance of these instructions, buthow were they to carry them out? The reptile was too large to beshoved off with a stick or pole, and would probably squirm through thewindow while they were attempting it. And they were afraid to use agun, as, in the case of a miss or a little lurch of the airplane at themoment of firing, the bullet might puncture the hollow wing or rearfuselage and let helium escape. It was Bob who solved the puzzle. "Why not try a loop or two?" he asked. Their hearts jumped with hope at this. So everything was made tight inthe cabin, with the straps and fastenings which had been provided whenthe machine was made. Even Grandpa had to submit to being roped up inone of the swinging hammocks. When the boys had buckled themselvesdown to their seats, John gave Tom the word, and he began to riseslowly. At close to two thousand feet he brought the Sky-Bird quicklyand smoothly upward until she stood almost on her tail end. Then Tom threw the elevators and ailerons hard up, and held them there. They were going at a rate of close to a hundred miles an hour at themoment, and their velocity brought them around in a pretty loop. Therewas no way for them to tell if the serpent had been dislodged, so, tomake as sure as he could of accomplishing his purpose, Tom kept hiscontrols as set, and they made another or double loop. This time he straightened out his controls as he came up to thehorizontal, and they ran swiftly ahead again on a level keel. His companions quickly unloosened their straps, and ran for the rearwindow. A feeling of the greatest thanksgiving filled their souls andjoy lit up their faces. The python was gone! He had hurtled throughthe air during one or the other of the loops, and his long sinuous bodywas probably at that moment lying crushed upon the hard ground, orimpaled upon the sharp stub of some forest tree, far below. It had been a night of intense excitement. Now that they began to beatthrough the air in the old tuneful way, and there was nothing more toclaim their attention until they should arrive at Aden sometime in themorning, Bob and Paul took to their hammocks for sleep, but first Bobgot Khartum on the wireless and delivered their position and a briefdescription of their adventures. As may be imagined, however, the twoyouths did not shut their eyes immediately. There was much to thinkabout and to talk about before even fatigue could get the better ofthem. Tom put the Sky-Bird through on a straight course for Aden as fast ashe dared run the night engine, which was very close to its limit, nowthat it had had a chance to cool off and was well supplied with water. It was important that they should make speed, for in the stop for waterand the subsequent maneuvering to rid themselves of their unwelcomepassenger, the python, they had lost upwards of an hour's time. Flying high, and depending entirely upon the compass for striking Aden, they shot through the starlit tropical night like a meteor, showing nolights except the two small ones on the dashboard in the cabin, bymeans of which Tom could observe the instruments and the controllinglevers below. Thus they crossed the famous Nile, sweeping belowKhartum and across the plains of Kordofan, and when the first streaksof daylight appeared ahead of them they were just entering the plateausof northern Abyssinia. Paul and Bob now relieved Tom and John, and the latter young men took anap. It was their custom to work in pairs, the observer preparing foodfor himself and the pilot during the course of flight. Sometimes theobserver took the throttle long enough to give his friend a chance toeat, and sometimes the pilot retained his seat, allowing the automaticarrangement to do the guiding for him while he munched his food. Just before seven o'clock Paul and Bob saw two large bodies of waterahead of them, one stretching to the right and the other to the left. The chart told them that the northern body was the Red Sea and thesouthern one the Gulf of Aden, which opens into the Indian Ocean. Between these bodies lay a narrow belt of water, flanked on the westernor African side by rocky, wooded hills, and on the eastern side by low, sandy shores dotted with palms. This was the Strait of Bab-el-Mandeb, and the country beyond was Persia. Aden could not be more than fifteen minutes' run east now, and so Bobawakened his sleeping comrades while Paul guided the airplane acrossthe strait. They flew a little higher, later, following the generalcontour of the terraced slopes of the mountains along the Arabian coast. As the Sky-Bird came leisurely over the hills surrounding this Britishseaport of Aden, they could see that the town nestled in the crater ofan extinct volcano, as they had read. All around the low, whitebuildings spread the rugged hillsides, and in declivities they passedover numbers of the great brick tanks or reservoirs which catch andstore the scanty rainfall of the region and thus furnish Aden with itsonly water supply. The flyers saw many gowned figures, some on camels, pause to lookupward at them, as they began to circle the town in quest of theirlanding field. Bob was the first to discern it--a fairly level stretchin the southern end of the valley or basin, marked in the way agreedupon, and containing two small buildings, neither of which was largeenough to admit the machine. But they cared nothing for shelter for the Sky-Bird, as they did notpurpose staying any longer than necessary for fuel replenishment andnews dissemination by telegraph and letter. So they quickly settleddown in the midst of a wondering ring of Arabs. Mr. Griggs, the American consul here, now came forward with a couple ofBritish military officers, and the flyers met with a hearty reception. It seemed good to run upon one of their own countrymen again, afterseeing so many strange faces since leaving Panama. Mr. Griggs insistedupon their going to his home with him for breakfast, and to this theyconsented as soon as they found he had made full arrangements forhaving some British workmen at the garrison refill the Sky-Bird's tanks. They found that their rivals had arrived just after daylight, and haddeparted for Colombo, Ceylon, less than twenty minutes before their ownappearance. This was cheering news. They had gained a lot on them incrossing the African continent. CHAPTER XXII ABOVE THE CLOUDS Mr. Griggs, the American consul at Aden, proved an affable, pleasantentertainer. His little wife was also very genial and painstaking fortheir comforts, declaring at their protests that she was doing no morefor them than she had done for the other flyers when they came through, a short time before. The couple had two children, a boy and a girl, and both of these plied the boys with innumerable questions about theirjourney, expressing the greatest interest and excitement when theyworked out of Paul the story of the adventure with the gorilla andpython. After the meal, which was very appetizing and refreshing, they spent ashort time preparing their reports to the _Daily Independent_, and thenaccompanied their host to the post-office, where the letter and roll offilms were mailed. At the telegraph office they received a pleasantsurprise in the shape of a message from Mr. Giddings, which statedtheir reports were coming in to the newspaper all right, and that thegreatest interest was being manifested in them by the world in generaland by New York people in particular. "Whatever you do, don't let the other crew beat you, " were hisconcluding words. "I have ordered the helium shipped to Nukahiva byfast steamer. " "That's good news, " said John, with satisfaction, referring to thehelium, and the others accorded with him. They dispatched a telegram to Mr. Giddings, and then started out to buysome fruit and other foods. As they went along the narrow, crookingstreet upon which they had been walking they met so many Arabs withsmall sprays of dark-green leaves which they put in their mouths andchewed, that their curiosity was aroused, and Bob asked Mr. Griggs whatthe leaves were. "Those are the leaves of the khat bush, " was the response. "You musthave passed numerous plantations of such bushes up on the hillsides asyou flew over into the basin here. The Yemen Arabs like to chew theleaves so well that they have all of the passion for them that a toperhas for whiskey, and they will spend their last rupee for a smallbundle. " "Does this chewing of the leaves intoxicate them?" asked John. "Oh, no; the leaves are quite harmless. But they do produce astrangely exhilarating effect upon those who chew them. If you ask aYemen Arab what he chews the leaves for, he will invariably look at youwith astonishment and tell you that he forgets all his troubles, seesthe most beautiful of fairies and the richest rose-gardens of Allah, and lives in a new world. " "Do they go to the fields after it themselves?" inquired Tom. "Not at all, " said Mr. Griggs; "the khat is brought into town everymorning about eleven o'clock by long caravans of camels which proceedfrom the khat farms along the mountain slopes. Long before thesecamels appear in the valley, with a bundle of khat swung on each sideof the beasts, messengers on fleeter camels have brought the tidings ofapproach. From the shelters of the shops, so silent except just now, cheerful cries break out; the streets are filled with Arabs who singjoyfully; tikka gharries rattle madly by, whips waving and turbansawry; there are flashes of color from rich men's gowns and the soundsof their clicking oryx-hide sandals as they rapidly strike the stonypavements; there is a continual blunt clatter from the tom-toms in thehands of long-gowned fellows. They are all going to the market wherethe khat will soon arrive, each one anxious to have first choice andget the best bargain. There they will bicker with the khat traders foran hour sometimes, then in will come the despised hadjis, the vendersof firewood, who will buy up for a few pice the scraps which remain. " This was all very interesting to the flyers, but it was high time tohurry back and resume their flight; so, restraining their impulse toask more questions or investigate the attractions of the town, theybought their supplies, and returned with the American minister to thelanding-field. Ten minutes later the Sky-Bird was mounting easily up into the sky, viewed by hundreds of shouting Arabs. It was good-bye to Persia now. Looking at his watch, Paul, at the throttle, saw that it wasnine-fifty. They were leaving Aden only fifty minutes behind schedule. That was not at all bad; but it was not pleasant to think that theirrivals were still ahead of them. And two hours was a pretty stiff lead. They were not long in passing over the hills to the south, and thenheaded eastward out over the elongated gulf. Looking back, John sawthe sandhills by the sea glistening in the bright sunlight like moundsof gold-dust. Every leaf and stem in the scrub stood out in black andsilver filigree; and euphorbias and adeniums, gouty and pompous abovethe lower growths, seemed like fantasies of gray on a Japanese screencovered with cerulean velvet. It was their last sight of Persia, andone not soon to be forgotten. Our friends now settled down for a long hop, for they would have to flyall day and all night before reaching Colombo. After a while they sighted Socotra, the little isle off the coast ofCape Guardafui, from whence comes most of the world's supply offrankincense; then leaving its rocky shores behind them they cutstraight across the Persian Sea, braving whatever tropical storm mightarise. All that day they swept over the blue waters of this great body, frequently seeing ships below and sometimes small islands. Towardnight they ran into such hard headwinds that Bob went up higher. Heclimbed steadily until the Sky-Bird had attained an altitude of ninethousand feet. Here, as expected, they found the winds much lessforceful, but the sea was blotted out entirely by the clouds throughwhich they had passed in the process of rising and which now laybetween. Indeed, these clouds resembled a billowy ocean of white foam inthemselves, or a landscape covered with hills and valleys of snow. Therounded cloud contours could easily be likened to the domes ofsnow-covered mountains. It was really difficult to conceive that thatamorphous expanse was not actually solid. Here and there flocculenttowers and summits heaved up, piled like mighty snow dumps, topplingand crushing into one another, as the breezes stirred them. Then there were tiny wisps of cloud, more delicate and frail thanfeathers or the down of a dandelion-blow. Chasms hundreds of feetdeep, sheer columns, and banks, extended almost beyond eye-reach. Between the flyers and the sun stretched isolated towers of cumulus, cast up as if erupted by the chaos below. The sunlight, filteringthrough this or that gossamer bulk, was scattered into everyconceivable shade and monotone. And around the margins of the heavingbillows the sun's rays played unhampered, unrestricted, outlining allwith edgings of the purest silver. The scene was one of such extravagance that the brain was staggeredwith what the eye tried to register. Below the aviators, the shadow oftheir machine pursued them on white film like a grotesque gray bird ofsome supernatural region. The shadow followed tirelessly, gaining asthe hour of noon approached, gaining still as afternoon began togather, swell, and wane; and always it skipped from crest to crest downthere just below, jumping gulfs like a bewitched phantom. It was so cold at this height that the aviators had to put on theirheaviest garments, and they were content to open the windows only aslight way for ventilation. When darkness fell, they were still flying high, though at reducedspeed, as John was afraid that a rate too much over schedule mightcause them to overrun their destination before daylight could discloseits outlines to them. Every half-hour the pilot's helper checked uptheir position on the chart. Had this not been done from the verystart of the trip, they never could have struck their ports with theaccuracy they did, and disaster would have been the result, if notdeath to the crew. As it was, they had taken every precaution they could. When they hadcrossed the Atlantic they had been careful to inflate the four spareinner tubes of their landing wheels, as these would make capitallife-preservers in case the flyers were thrown into the sea; and one ofthe last things they did before leaving Aden was to see that the tubeswere still inflated. The long night passed with considerable anxiety on the part of Tom andJohn, but when dawn finally broke they felt like uttering a "hurrah, "and called Paul and Bob up from their sleep to witness the cheeringsight ahead of them. At a distance of what must have been close to fifty miles, was a whitepatch in a haziness of green plain surrounded by hills and lowmountains. The land itself was encircled by the sea, and when they sawa great peninsula spreading away to the northward, they knew that theisland was Ceylon, and the other land the peninsula of Hindustan. Somewhat off their course, they wheeled a little north. Soon detailsbecame apparent in the island. The white patch grew, developing into aconsiderable town--Colombo. They swept up and around it, then settled, and climbed stiffly out ofthe Sky-Bird not twenty yards from another airplane, about which fourmen in flying-suits had been working. These fellows looked toward thenew arrivals scowlingly. But our flyers, overjoyed to think they had caught the _Clarion's_crew, only smiled back indulgently. CHAPTER XXIII BOMBED BY ROCKS Our friends had landed in the lowlands just to the north of Colombo, whose scattered buildings contained upwards of a hundred thousandinhabitants, most of whom were native Singhalese, descendants of thecolonists who came from the valley of the Ganges and settled the islandfive hundred years before the birth of Christ. To the southward arosethe rocky headlands of the coast, and to the westward could be seen thesomber peak of Pedrotallagalla, the highest mountain of the island. Numerous ships, some very crude and with queer sails, were in theharbor as the boys landed, and scores of natives in short skirts wereloading and unloading these. Undoubtedly the huge square boxes whichsome of them carried aboard so easily upon their heads contained tea, for which Ceylon is famous. The person in charge of the landing-field here was a Mr. Young, anAmerican clergyman connected with the local Baptist mission. This tallgentleman came forward, accompanied by the British governor of theisland, within a few moments after the flyers struck the ground. Infact, they were still stretching their cramped legs and arms when hegreeted them and introduced the governor, Sir Henry Hurst. "Young men, I am more than delighted to shake hands with you, " said thegovernor. "It looks as if you and the other crew over yonder were uponan epoch-making tour, for you are not ten minutes behind your schedule, as we have it in the London papers and also in our own Colombiannewspaper. My only regret is that you do not represent England insteadof America. " He laughed good-naturedly as he made the last remark. "It was quite a task for the governor and myself to get up at thisearly hour to receive you, but the occasion is well worth the effort, "observed Mr. Young, smiling. "Here we usually sleep very late, oftenas late as nine o'clock. Even the Singhalese and Burghers are not yetgenerally up from their beds, though those who work at the wharves haveappeared. If you had arrived a few hours later there would bethousands of the population here to see you. " "We are well satisfied with the hour, then, " said John. "The fewernatives we have around the Sky-Bird, the better we like it, both forworking and taking off. How long has that other crew been in, sir?" "Not more than a half-hour. They are taking on their fuel now, beingassisted by a couple of Burghers. They advised us that they wouldprobably remain here until noon, being tired from their long flightfrom Aden. I don't know; why, but the slender man with the dark skinand mustache particularly requested me to see that you knew thisintention of theirs. " The flyers thought this was rather strange. Why should the _Clarion's_crew remain so long in Colombo, when their interests in the racedemanded as much time put into flying as possible? It was still moreincomprehensible what object they would have in wishing the Sky-Bird'sflyers to understand this intention, as by so doing our boys could maketheir plans to gain a heavy lead. It was too much of a puzzle for them to work out, so Bob and Paul, aided by two Burghers (naturalized Europeans), went to work overhaulingthe machine and storing fuel, while John and Tom made their way intotown with Sir Henry Hurst to transact their business. When theyreturned they found the two younger members of their crew in a heateddiscussion with the _Clarion_ fellows. "What's the matter here, anyhow?" demanded John, as he and Tom pushedtheir way through the little ring of natives who had gathered about theprincipals. "It's just this way, " said Pete Deveaux, with a grin meant to be verycool and indifferent, although his eyes roved uneasily; "We fellowswere working on our machine here, minding our own business, when thesetwo kids of yours came up and demanded to know why we had played youdirty at Freetown and Kuka. They accused us of purposely carrying offyour share of fuel at Freetown, and of stirring up the natives at Kukaso you couldn't make a safe landing. " "We simply couldn't stand keeping quiet any longer, John, " put in Paulvery heatedly. "We thought it a good time to have it out with thesefellows for their crookedness. " "That's right; they're a bunch of snakes!" supported Bob, his cheeksred with excitement and anger, and his fists doubled menacingly. John turned to the slouching figures of the rival crew. "Do youfellows deny these charges?" he asked quietly. Crossman, Torrey, and Lane looked at their leader, merely shruggingtheir shoulders. Pete Deveaux took a quick glance in their direction, in turn. Then his face clouded a little darker, and he blurted out tohis men: "You confounded babies, why don't you deny it? You know wedidn't do anything on purpose to hold these guys back!" "That's right; we sure didn't, " said Sam Lane. "Of course not, " added Chuck Crossman. "Wouldn't think of it, " interjected Oliver Torrey. Our boys were disgusted by the cringing attitude of Pete Deveaux'scronies. Two of them were larger than the Frenchman, yet they seemedto be afraid of him. John saw that nothing was to be gained at thistime by continuing the argument, so he pulled his comrades away withthis parting and significant warning to their rivals: "Well, Deveaux, we'll let this drop now; but we certainly hope that you will take painsto see that nothing more of so strongly a suspicious character occurson this trip!" Pete Deveaux snarled back some answer which they could not make out. Our friends returned to the Sky-Bird. In a few minutes Bob, who hadclimbed on top of the fuselage to test the helium valves, came down andsaid: "Something new is going on over in our neighbor's yard, fellows. When I was up there I could see right over the natives' heads, and Inoticed Chuck Crossman and Pete Deveaux hunting around the field tillthey found half-a-dozen rocks as big as a football, and they put thesein the cabin of the _Clarion_. Wonder what on earth they intend to dowith those?" "It's too hard a nut for me to crack, " answered John. The others expressed equal inability to discern the purpose of theirrivals, and the incident was soon forgotten. But twenty minutes later the familiar roar of a revolving airplanepropeller greeted their ears, and they were surprised to observe the_Clarion_ rising up over the field. They watched the machine until ithad disappeared in the cloud mists to the east. Then they awoke. All saw the game of their rivals now. By making the Sky-Bird's crewbelieve they did not intend to leave until noon, the latecomers wouldbe inclined to take their time fitting up for the next hop, and thiswould give the _Clarion's_ party a chance to make a sudden exit andgain a good lead before the others could get under way. There was no getting around it--Pete Deveaux was clever, if he were arascal. This our friends had to admit to themselves, despite theirdislike of the fellow. His methods of getting the best of them seemedto have no limit; and yet thus far they had been able to cling, by thehardest kind of work, right at his heels. This last trick was morehonest strategy than Deveaux had exhibited before, and they couldtherefore admire it in that sense. They hoped that from now on hismaneuvers might be as free from maliciousness. But their rivals had not fooled them as badly as they thought. Ourflyers had lost no time upon landing in refitting, and when they sawthe _Clarion_ take off, they speeded up operations so fast that theywere able to depart only fifteen minutes later. Almost straight eastward they headed, bearing just a little to thesouthward, so as to strike Singapore on a bee-line. They hoped toreach this stop some time before dark, which would give themapproximately twelve hours' flying time. Under ideal weatherconditions, they could make the journey in considerably less time, butit was the season for the well-known monsoons of the Indian Ocean, andit was quite unlikely that they would be able to wing their way acrossthe fourteen hundred odd miles of sea without encountering some ofthese deterrent trade-winds. It took them just an hour to cross the island of Ceylon, and flying atabout fifteen hundred feet, they winged their way out over thewhitecaps of the ocean. To their unspeakable pleasure they found thewinds not at all bad, and made good speed. Bob was at the throttle, Paul was observing, and John and Tom were sleeping. They had been flying thus for perhaps two hours, when Paul saw that forwhich he had been keenly watching for some time. It was a faint blackspeck, like a tiny bird, against the blue of the heavens ahead of them. He continued to watch this silently, after calling his chum's attentionto it, until, under an increase of speed, the Sky-Bird had drawn closeenough for them to observe that it was what they suspected--an airplane. In another hour they were near enough to recognize in it theunmistakable outlines of the _Clarion_. To all appearances theirrivals had also observed them, and were crowding on power, for now theygained much slower. Yet they still continued to narrow the breachbetween them, steadily, rod by rod, and minute by minute. They couldsee that the _Clarion_ was not well handled, for she wavered in herflight considerably. "They'd be wise if they'd throw those rocks out which they tookaboard, " commented Paul. "That might help them to fly steadier. " "They're flying all of a thousand feet higher than we are, " said Bob. "We're going to pass under them, I think, in the next half-hour. " That was the way matters looked. The | _Clarion_ was riding high, andwas so close by this time that the windows in her cabin could be madeout. Against those panels of glass our friends felt sure some of therival crew were even at that moment pressing anxious faces as theywatched the Sky-Bird steadily creeping up on them. It was such an auspicious moment that Paul went and aroused John andTom, so that they could see the Sky-Bird overtake and pass heradversary. Those two worthies grumbled a whole lot for a few moments, being half asleep, but when they grasped the situation and saw the_Clarion_ just ahead, they were as much interested as anybody. Slowly, surely the Sky-Bird overtook the rival machine. When it seemedher nose was almost up to the tail of the _Clarion_, they saw amovement in the bottom of the fuselage of the craft above them, whereher trapdoor of glass was situated in the floor of the cabin. Thensomething gray streaked down through the air. It went whizzing by justin front of the Sky-Bird, and a few moments later plunged into the seawith a great splash. "Huckleberry pie!" ejaculated Tom Meeks, "one of their rocks has burstthrough their floor trap. Say, that was a close call for us!" "Watch out! Here comes another!" cried Paul, as a second gray missilewent by them on the other side. Barely had it struck the waters beneath, when a third rock came soclose that they could feel the rush of air as it passed downward. Itwas as if they were being bombarded by an enemy above, who used greatstones instead of explosives. Their faces paled when the truth struckthem like a thunderbolt. With calm deliberation, deadly intent, and askill born of dropping bombs on targets during the war, some of thefellows in the machine above were trying to wreck the Sky-Bird with therocks they had gathered in the field back in Ceylon! "Quick, Bob!" cried John to their pilot. "Swerve out from under thesedevils as fast as you can! If another stone comes down here, it may--" The words he intended to say never were uttered. At that very momentanother gray object streaked its way down through the heavens, whirlinguglily. They thought sure it would strike the cabin roof and crashthrough, and intuitively they cowered back in the corners forprotection. But their speed carried the stone farther to the rear. There was atearing, rending sound. Their faces blanched. And then Bob called out: "Hi, fellows, something's gone wrong! The Sky-Bird's bound to put her nose into thesea. The tail elevators don't work!" CHAPTER XXIV RIDING AN AIRPLANE'S TAIL Filled with the gravest fears for the safety of the Sky-Bird andthemselves, all except Bob rushed to the rear windows of the cabin andlooked out to see what had caused the ripping noise, and what could bewrong with the tail. Paul reached a point of vantage first. One swift look showed him thetrouble. The left elevator had a big hole through it, made by thestone, fragments of silk showing all round the ragged gap. But thiscould not have caused the derangement of the steering controlsentirely, and looking for a reason, Paul saw that the impact had causedthe wire running to the right elevator to become twisted around abracket near the end of the fuselage. Under this condition neitherelevator could be controlled. With the good one held downward, it wasno wonder that the airplane had started a stubborn, slow dive towardthe ocean in spite of Bob's frantic efforts to work the lever normallyeffecting it. "Shut off your engine!" called Paul to Bob. "That will hold us back. Three minutes of time I think will save us!" With the words, Paul seized the end of a long coil of rope which laynear, and fastened it about his waist. Both Bob and John saw what hemeant to do. He would crawl out upon the fuselage and attempt tountangle the inactive control wire, freeing the now useless rightelevating plane! It was a daring thing to do--a most perilous proceeding. But the oldermen knew that it was the only thing that could prevent them fromplunging into the sea. So John threw open a window for his brother, the nimblest one of them, gave his hand a parting squeeze, and Paulclimbed through. Paul never had realized as he did now how smooth that rounded body ofthe machine was, nor how strong the wind shot back along it when themachine was in flight. Although he clutched it with both arms andlegs, and lay as close to it as he could press, he thought two or threetimes, as he made his way out toward the tail, that he would be tornloose. He knew that his friends in the cabin, whom it might be hewould never speak to again, were watching his progress with feargripping their hearts, and were probably inwardly praying for hissuccess with every breath. Finally the boy reached the tail. He dare not look down at the sea tosee how much closer they were now, for the sight might unnerve him andprove disastrous to his purpose. So, glazing his vision to all excepthis environs and intent, he wrapped his legs around the narrowing bodyof the machine, let go with his arms, and in a crouching posture seizedthe tangled wires. Two or three tugs and he had them free. Heannounced this fact with as loud a yell as he could. Immediately afterward he heard his brother's voice. "Hang right therewhere you are, Paul! Don't try to come back until we get elevationagain and I give you the word. " He realized what this meant and looked down as he once more wrapped hisarms around the fuselage, with his shoulders against the rudderbracket. What he saw was the restless sea less than two hundred feetbelow! Had Bob waited for him to attempt to crawl back into the cabinwith the tail elevated, the Sky-Bird would have buried herself in thewaters before he was half-way to his objective. They must now rise, ifthat were possible, to a good height; then Bob would slowly spiral theairplane downward and afford him a declining surface to work back upon. Luckily Paul's freeing of the right elevating plane, gave the pilotfairly good control over the machine, so Bob had no difficulty inbringing the Sky-Bird into a rising swoop, although none too soon. Mounting at a good angle, but one which would not be likely to displacethe youth clinging at the tail, he brought the airplane up to twothousand feet. "Now, Paul! Slide for it!" cried John, as the machine began a slowdescent in a great circle. Paul then worked his way back like a crab, sliding a little, but notonce allowing his tensioned limbs to relax to the danger point. Beforethe airplane had come within five hundred feet of the sea, he felt hislegs grasped in the strong hands of John and Tom, and the next momentthey had hauled him bodily through the window. "Ginger, Buddy, that was a close call for us--and you, too!" exclaimedJohn. "I hope I never see you in such a ticklish place again!" Paul sank into a seat. He was too exhausted to do anything but smile. When at last he could find his voice he asked, anxiously: "Can Bobcontrol her all right now?" "Well enough to land us where we wish to go, he says, " observed Tom. "That's right, " put in Bob himself, who had overheard the conversation. "The Sky-Bird isn't what she was before that rock went through her, butif nothing worse happens we'll reach Singapore, though it will probablybe somewhat later than our sweet friends in the other plane. " "We can land at Sumatra, I think, if we have to make repairs before, "ventured John. "We ought to cross the northern end of that island inthe course of an hour. " Searching the horizon for their rivals, they saw that, evidentlysatisfied with the mischief they had done, the _Clarion_ crew had goneon at full speed, for they were now far ahead. "If I ever run onto Pete Deveaux again I believe I shall be angryenough to choke him till he's unable to speak his own name, " declaredPaul. "I'm afraid I'll have to help you at that job, Paul, " cried Tom. "He'sthe most unprincipled scoundrel that ever went unhung. " "You are right, Tom; Deveaux is a brute, " said John. "His deviltrycame near being the end of us. When we get home, we must see to itthat he is punished as he deserves. But we must keep it out of thepapers now, as it will look, in case we get beat, as if we wanted anexcuse. " John and Tom now resumed their hammocks and broken sleep, for they sawthat, although the shattered tail elevator caused the Sky-Bird to rideroughly and at reduced speed. Bob and Paul could probably handle herall right from now on. The cross winds of the monsoon also hinderedtheir progress a good deal, blowing erratically from differentdirections, but they plugged along at a pace slow enough to keepthemselves within the zone of safety. A little later they came in sight of Sumatra, but as they were goingfairly well, thought it best not to attempt a landing for repairs. Sothey crossed the northern tip of the island, and proceeded on over theStrait of Malacca. Sometime since, Paul had taken Bob's place at thethrottle, and the latter had communicated with their destination bywireless, learning that the other airplane had arrived. It was twilight when they at last reached Singapore, and made a landingin the race-course in the outskirts of the town. By long odds this wasthe smallest island upon which they had so far stopped, but they foundthe city one of the busiest. Their rivals had left fully two hoursbefore. Now came the task of repairing the broken tail elevator. As the framewas undamaged, it was only necessary to straighten out a few bentsupports and put new covering on. The British official at the fieldshowed them where to purchase the necessary silk and glue, also a goodwaterproof varnish for coating the covering. From his own home hesecured a pair of scissors with which to do the cutting, and John andBob worked at the task, while Paul and Tom took on fuel and water andlooked after other preparations for resuming their journey as soon aspossible. During this process, Grandpa the monkey was permitted to come out ofthe cabin and entertain the crowd of onlookers with his antics, whichhe did to perfection, as he had done at other stops. To the ivory ringabout his slender little waist, Paul always fastened a long thin rope, which he had bought in Para, when he let Grandpa out. This leashprevented him from wandering off, something nearly all unfetteredmonkeys will do if not watched very closely by their masters. Almostany place seems to be home to a monkey, and almost any man seems tosuit him for a temporary master. Grandpa himself delighted in running out upon the wings of the Sky-Birdat the stops. He pulled the control wires and made the ailerons swingup and down, which always raised a laugh among the crowds. Anotherfavorite pastime with him was to post himself in front of the reflectorof the big searchlight up on the cabin, and make the most comicalgrimaces at his image on the polished reflector inside, sometimesuttering queer noises as if he were crying, and at other timeschattering with the utmost anger at the phantom monkey, mixing thesedemonstrations up with wild dashes around behind the lamp to see if themimicking animal were there. No matter what language the natives ofeach port might speak, they never failed to understand and appreciatethese little sideshow comedies of Grandpa's. And when it would becomenoised about among them that this particular monkey had traveled allthe way from South America through the air with the "bird-men, " theirawe for him was amusing to behold. CHAPTER XXV ENGULFED IN A VOLCANO'S DUST With three hundred gallons of gasoline in her tanks, and her brokentail-elevator well repaired, the Sky-Bird was ready at eleven o'clockthat evening to take off. Her crew were all tired out, but they knewthey would soon be able to occupy the comfortable seats or hammocks inthe cabin for another long stretch of over-sea travel, for it would bemorning before they would reach Port Darwin, Australia, their next stop. It had been raining very hard in Singapore just before they arrived, and the field was quite wet, with many puddles in the low spots. Through one or two of these they had had to run in landing, and itseemed that in hopping off they would be forced to do so again. Fortunately the ground was sandy, so they had come to a stop in a spotnot at all muddy, and had thus been able to work upon the machinewithout the discomforts of wading in slime while doing it. They now started the engine, Tom climbed in, and they were off, runningover the soft ground at increasing speed. Then the airplane struck apool of water, five or six inches deep, which almost pulled them up. It also held them back so that when the machine emerged it was goingvery little faster than at the beginning. The next patch of ground wasa little longer, but they had not risen when they struck it at a rateof about twenty-five miles an hour. This pool was also quite deep, and the sudden resistance almost threwthe Sky-Bird onto her nose. It did cause her to dip so that her longpropeller struck the puddle, and immediately water and sand were suckedup and thrown in almost every direction by the swiftly revolvingblades. Much of it reached the natives, who in two long rows ofcurious humanity, formed a lane for the passage of the craft, and manya poor fellow gave a howl and fell back against those behind, spluttering and rubbing grit and water from his face, while rivuletscoursed down his dusky body amid the howls of laughter of his mates. The flyers had only a fleeting glimpse of this amusing incident beforethey found the front windows of the cabin so covered with the deluge ofspray that they could scarcely see ahead. Two of them quickly openedthe portals, for a grave danger menaced them. Less than sixty yards ahead was the lower fence of the field, and justback of this arose scrub trees and houses, with no opening betweenwhich could be utilized. They must clear these formidable obstacles, looming bigger every second, and the distance was alarmingly short, forthe last pool had again retarded their momentum to such an extent thatthey had just barely staggered through it. Picking up speed once more at every turn of her propeller, the Sky-Birdshot down the last stretch of ground reaching to the fence. How fastthis obstruction loomed up! Just in the nick of time the airplane leftthe ground. They sailed over the tops of trees and houses so closethat the wheels of their landing-gear almost scraped. It was one ofthe finest maneuvers of the whole voyage, and the boys praised John sofor his good piloting that he had to ask them to desist. After a wide sweep above Singapore, they headed for the open water, which in this case happened to be South China Sea. The weather was very threatening. Dark-looking clouds began to effacethe moon and stars, whose light had aided in the take-off at Singapore, and within fifteen minutes occasional flashes of sheet-lightning couldbe seen far ahead, throwing into relief the immense bulk of theforeboding clouds and shedding a pallid gleam over the sea. Occasionally a light zephyr came out of the east, but it would lastonly a moment. "We ought to be just about over the equator now, " announced John alittle later. Paul and Bob had stayed up on purpose to witness this event, and bydead reckoning had computed their position so closely that John'sannouncement had come just as they were about to make a similarstatement. Although they could see no "line" stretching along downthere in the sea, they fancied they could, with the most pleasantimagery. That great line, the belt of the universe, dividing theNorthern and Southern hemispheres, they had already crossed once, intheir zigzagging course, at the mouth of the Amazon. Now here in theSouth China Sea they were crossing it a second time. At no time hadthey been more than thirteen degrees away from it. One more crossingof it, if all went well, and they would be almost within sight of theend of their journey--Panama! With this pleasant thought Bob and Paul rolled up in their hammocks, trusting John and Tom to bring them safely through the bad weather thatseemed in store, and were soon asleep. To the two older flyers, used to all conditions of aerial passage as aresult of several years' experience, the present conditions were not atall terrifying. Although the spectacle of the dark clouds in front ofthem was extremely uncanny, they realized that they were only localthunder showers which could probably be avoided by a little carefulnavigating. In this they were right. By wheeling a little out of their course, tothe left or right, and by flying up over one big cloud which could notbe avoided in any other manner, they managed to dodge the mostdangerous fields of lightning and the worst torrents of rain. Presently they left the dark clouds far behind, and once more the starsappeared in the blue firmament above and the pale moon lit up thetropical sea. With relief John guided the Sky-Bird lower, so that they could keep asharp lookout for guide-posts of land. They passed several smallislets which were uncharted with them, but when, about midnight, theymade out a great black blotch not far ahead, they recognized it as thesouthern end of the island of Borneo, and knew they were all right. In a little while Borneo was sweeping along below them, its mangrovedshores gloomy and desolate-looking, not to say weird, in the palemoonlight. Among those dense forests and thickets the flyers knew manya wild animal was prowling at that very moment, and in the thatchedhuts in the glens slept many a fierce-visaged savage with weapons closeat hand. Toward morning the flyers observed a volcano in active eruption off tothe southeastward, apparently on the island of Timor. It was abeautiful sight, so wonderful that John awoke the sleepers, that theytoo might enjoy it. Fantastic lights of various colors shot upwardfrom the crater. These shafts lit up billowing clouds of smoke andashes, which poured out in awe-inspiring volume. Back of it all stoodthe dark-blue velvet sky, against which the pyrotechnics were embossedin a stunning manner. Man could never have wished to witness a moreremarkable manifestation of nature than did the young aviators, as theyviewed the spectacle from their own favored position in the air. Swiftly the Sky-Bird drew them toward the volcano, for it was directlyin their course. As they approached, they could see flames lickingtheir way upward from the dark mass of rock constituting the shaft, andcould make out streams of lava pouring over the sides of the crater, going down into the unknown blackness below. What a sight it was! Howtheir pulses beat! How their hearts quickened! But now, very unexpectedly, the sight was shut out. Thin, pungent, volcanic smoke and ash began to surround them. In a few moments it wasso thick that they grew alarmed. All had the same fearful thought-- If this should continue a little while, they would lose their bearings, and might run right into the fountain of fire itself! This was a terrifying possibility, for it would mean a horrible deathto every one of them. Fireproof though the airplane was in the generalsense of the word, every one of those in her cabin knew that if theyshould ever pass through those licking flames, the great heat in themwould fairly melt the light structure of the machine in the twinklingof an eye. No metal or wood could withstand that terrible blast amoment, much less human flesh. It is small wonder, therefore, that Tom now sent the Sky-Bird off tothe right, and higher, also. They closed the windows, to keep out thefoul smells, and anxiously awaited developments. They could not see ayard in front of them, so thick were the smoke and gases. It was atrying time. Fortunately Tom had taken the best course he could. Five minutespassed--ten minutes--fifteen--and then the air began to clear. Slowlythe curtain lifted; and presently looking back, they saw that they hadpassed the volcano and were leaving it and the island well behind. Its fires, too, seemed to be burning out. Only a few forks of ghostlylight were coming up from the crater. These grew fainter and fainter, and in a little while the eruption seemed to have entirely subsided, for Timor was swallowed up once more in the impenetrable mantle ofnight. CHAPTER XXVI IN AUSTRALIA Shortly after five o'clock the next afternoon, Paul saw ahead and toport what appeared to be haze, but which he and Tom hoped was thecoastline of Australia. Ten minutes later the observer joyfullypointed out to the pilot unmistakable evidence of an island upon whichstood a tall object--Bathurst Island lighthouse. John and Tom were routed out, and all saw the rugged outline of thegreat island--a continent itself, as large as the United States andmuch the same shape--stretching away to the southward and slowlydwindling into low, sandy, barren shores as it went. Less than forty minutes later they were circling over Port Darwin, onthe northwest corner of the continent, while a good-sized crowd ofpeople down below pointed excitedly upward. The flyers soon made outthe landing-field by reason of its white marker, and swooped gracefullydown, while those below cheered. Two zealous customs officials were anxious to examine the new arrivals, also a health officer; but this did not take long, and during theprocess they were able to converse pleasantly with Mr. Seth Partlow, the British official in charge of the field, also with the mayor ofDarwin, who gave them the most cordial welcome. They were sorry to learn that Pete Deveaux and his flyers had departedless than a half-hour before their own arrival; but they had beenexpecting such a report owing to the fact that they had been left sofar behind at Singapore. They now determined to hurry up refittingoperations, and leave at the first opportunity, hot upon the trail. Messages were dispatched to Mr. Giddings at Panama and to his newspaperin New York; and another roll of films containing numerous interestingviews taken that morning just before and after landing, were mailed into the _Daily Independent_. Here, for the first time, they were able to secure a paper containingaccounts of their own and their rival's passage. It was a novelexperience to read these glowing descriptions of incidents still freshin their minds--descriptions which had in some cases flown by wire, inothers by air-waves, from point to point, more than half-way around theworld. It provoked thoughts which made them marvel at the wonderfulingenuity and power of the very equipment which they were usingthemselves every chance they could get--their wireless telegraph andtelephone sets. The remarkable news-gathering efficiency of the world, the coordination of agencies in gathering and disseminating news, wasastounding to contemplate. The mayor of the town insisted upon the boys partaking of dinner at hishome near by, and they thankfully agreed to do this when Mr. Partlowdeclared he would personally see to the filling of the Sky-Bird'stanks, for which task he had plenty of assistants. They were most cordially received by the mayor's wife. Within fifteenminutes they had the satisfaction of sitting down to one of the mostsatisfying meals they had ever had. Not only was everything wellcooked, but there was a great variety of viands. They were allparticularly impressed with the toothsomeness of the meat which themaid served, so much so that Paul could not refrain from remarking:"Mr. Bailey, I never ate sweeter chicken than that. " "No, I don't believe you ever did, " laughed the mayor. "The fact is, young man, that is not domestic chicken at all. It is the flesh of thebrush-turkey, a wild fowl which the bushmen or blackfellows bring inhere to market. It is a great delicacy. " "I have read of these bushmen, " said Bob. "Are they quite wild?" "Indeed they are, " the mayor replied. "The blackfellow is, I believe, on the lowest rung of civilization. He is unlike the negro, the Malay, the Mongolian, and the American Indian, in many ways. If you couldstay a few days, I would be glad to take you back in the bush and showyou a few specimens in their native state. They have a long skull, with a low, flat forehead, Their brows overhang deep-set, keen eyes, and they have a heavy lower jaw, with teeth as strong as a dog's. Their hair is generally wavy or curly, being usually auburn or black incolor. As a rule their faces are almost hidden by beards and whiskers, which they never comb and which, like the hair on top of their heads, are always in a beautiful tangle. " "How do they dress, sir?" asked Paul. This brought another laugh from Mr. Bailey. "That doesn't worry themin the least!" he declared. "Most bushmen are covered from head tofoot with hair, and I imagine they think this is a good enough uniform, for they wear nothing except what nature gave them. In bad weather, however, they do add some artificial protection to their tough bodiesby making a rough wrap out of the skin of a kangaroo or a piece offlexible bark. Some tribes use rushes and seaweed for this purpose, while others make a blanket from the dried frog scum of the swamps andponds. For boats, pieces of eucalyptus bark, folded and tied at theends and daubed with clay, suit them very well. They are too lazy todig out the trunk of a tree for a canoe, like the natives of most othercountries. " "Do these blackfellows live in huts?" asked John. "That's where their laziness manifests itself again, " said the mayor, smiling. "The blackfellow has no permanent dwelling. His shelter is acave or overhanging rock, as an animal might select one; sometimes itis only a large section of bark which he tears from a tree, and underwhich he walks or squats in storms or lies at night. " "Back in the States, " remarked Tom, "we hear much about the skill ofthese fellows with the boomerang. I dare say a lot of these storiesare overdone. " "Possibly, " said their host, "and yet it is a fact that these nativesare undoubtedly more adept at casting various forms of woodenimplements than any other people in the world. Their very indolenceleads them to adopt all sorts of easy-made weapons, and wood is surelyone of the most common materials for the purpose one could find. Clubsof all kinds are hurled at prey or human enemies. Among these theboomerang is a favorite. They have several forms. One type is verylight, round on one side and flat on the other, and slightly twisted onits axis. It is used almost entirely for play, though sometimes tohurl at flocks of birds in the sky. The war and hunting boomerangs aremuch heavier; they are bent differently, and do not return to thethrower, but are a deadly weapon in the hands of these bushmen atranges up to four hundred feet. But stone-pointed spears are theirchief weapons. " "With this skill I presume they have no trouble in securing enough toeat, " suggested Paul, sipping his cocoa. "On the contrary, there are times when weather conditions, such asdrouth, make it a very difficult matter for some tribes to getsufficient food. Then they will turn to human flesh, and will eat menwho have fallen to their weapons, or their own tribesmen who havesuccumbed to disease or hunger. Even infants are sometimes killed andeaten by their parents. " "Horrible!" cried the flyers. This seemed almost incredible, withcivilization in abundance so near. "I agree with you, " said Mr. Bailey, failing to notice his wife holdingup a protesting finger toward him. "Of course the blackfellow prefersto have other foods when he can get them. The kangaroo, wallaby, andopossum, form his chief food supply, but no animal or nourishing plantis neglected. He even eats ants, caterpillars, moths, beetles, grubs, snakes, lizards, often uncooked----" At that point Mr. Bailey felt a sharp twist of his ear, and looking up, found his wife gazing at him with a very severe expression. "Thomas Bailey! You are a cannibal yourself! Where is your sense ofpropriety? Have you lost your head in your interest in this subject?Don't you know you are _eating_?--that you have guests here who arealso _eating_?" "My! my! Goodness gracious!" ejaculated their host, in a great fuss. "Young men, I was not thinking. Will you ever pardon me for thistransgression of etiquette?" The flyers smilingly hastened to assure both their friends that theyhad not lost their appetites in the least; that they really had enjoyedevery morsel of food and information passed out. They remained to chatlong enough to convince the lady and gentleman of this fact, and thentook their departure. They had actually spent a most entertaininghour, one which they would not have missed for a good deal. At eight-fifty local time the Sky-Bird took off for her long hop toApia, principal city of Upolu, an island of the Samoan group. It wasthe beginning of their long flight across the big Pacific, an ocean sowide, so fraught with perils, that no aircraft had ever beforeattempted to negotiate it. Some eight thousand miles away over thosegreat waters lay Panama, their goal. Would they reach it ahead oftheir rivals? Would they reach it within their schedule of ten days? To these two queries in their minds, our stout-hearted, young friendsanswered doggedly and determinedly, "Yes!" Fortune might frown uponthem, it is true; but if so they would face her smilingly, withconfidence, with that pertinacity for which Americans are famous, andtry to make her look pleasant, too! They felt that they must win; thatthey would win. And yet they left Port Darwin handicapped by beingfully three hours behind their rivals. As they wheeled over the town they waved a last farewell to thehundreds below, whose forms they could just make out in thefast-gathering darkness. Then, turning off straight east, they flewover the dark-green canopy of eucalyptus forests of fertile ArnhemLand, and crossed the Gulf of Carpentaria in the full darkness of thenight. When they passed over Cape York peninsula, Tom was at thethrottle, and the younger boys had been asleep for a number of hours. They had now left the whole continent of Australia behind them, andwere facing the broad wastes of the Pacific. Their perils had begun in earnest. Should anything happen to causethem to be forced down, there was nothing but a vast basin of watermiles deep to catch them, and there would not be one chance in athousand that they would survive. This, surely, was no place and notime for engines to fail or steering apparatus to go wrong. Yet eachflyer was ready for such a mishap--attested by the mute evidence of aninflated rubber tube about his waist. Even Bob and Paul slumbered onthe airy contrivances. Fortunately the weather was ideal. It is true that headwinds blewmildly and insistently, causing some bumpiness, but the night was calmand starry, and with the engine running close to full-out, they sawthat they were making up lost time very fast. When morning broke, and Paul took the throttle, fair skies looked downupon their skimming bird, and the sea was bathed in brilliant sunshine. Bob wirelessed Sydney their position about noon. He made no attempt toget Apia, because he knew there was no telegraph or radio station there. Flying low, early in the afternoon they passed close enough to theVanikord islands to see hordes of natives watching them from the coralshores. Numerous smaller islets, gems set in the ultramarine blue ofthe sea, were also passed within the next hour. Gulls, ospreys, andother swift-winged seabirds sailed about these pretty outcroppings ofthe mighty deep, and sometimes the creatures came after the Sky-Birdwith shrill cries of challenge, only to be quickly left behind. Once more the shades of night fell, and once more John took thedestinies of the airplane in hand. For a time Bob and Paul worked onreports, then played with Grandpa, who in such tedious spells of flyingas this was a never-ending source of entertainment to all. Nineo'clock found them in their hammocks, hoping that when they openedtheir eyes again it would be to see the welcome shores of theirdestination. Nor in this hope were they to be disappointed. It seemed they had nosooner fallen asleep than they were aroused by a hand shaking them andthe voice of John saying: "Come on, you sleepy-heads! Rout out hereand have a look at what's ahead!" Having their clothes still on--so that they might be ready for anemergency at any time of the night--the two chums were up to thewindows about as soon as John himself. The latter had raised two ofthese a short time before, and the boys shoved their heads through totake a look. It was broad day. Light, fleecy clouds covered the heavens to thesoutheast, but in the blue between a huge rift the sun shone downbenignly. And in its bright rays they could count nine islands andislets, sprinkled here and there like emeralds in a sparkling sheet ofmother-of-pearl. It needed only a glance at the chart to tell themthat these were the Samoan group, and a little searching also told themthat the nearest large one was Upolu. In less than another hour they were circling above the beautiful islandof their choice, directly over the little town of Apia, which nestledin the center of a luxuriant forest of palms and other tropical trees. A number of boats and sailing vessels were in the harbor, and on boardthese as well as on the ground hundreds of people were looking up aloftand waving a welcome. Now our flyers saw what they really were most concerned about--a T madeof white stones in an open spot by the beach. And in that field theyalso saw something else they were very glad to witness. This was theairplane of their rivals. They had caught up with them at last! CHAPTER XXVII PAUL VERSUS PETE There was a wild scamper of natives as our flyers came down upon thesmooth, hard sands of the beach. In this operation they had to use theutmost care to avoid striking the machine of their contemporaries, butit was accomplished without mishap, and the Sky-Bird came to a stopabout seventy feet from the _Clarion_. They were immediately surrounded, at a very respectable distance, by a cordon of Samoans. These were splendid-looking fellows. Their dusky bodies were strong and stalwart, and their faces wereintelligent-looking. It was plain to be seen that they had not theslightest hostile intentions toward the aviators. On the contrarytheir features expressed clear friendliness, although it was obviousthat their experience with the _Clarion_ was still too fresh toeradicate their natural timidity of such a strange thing as an airplane. Our friends were very stiff and cramped from their long ride from PortDarwin. It seemed so good now to be able to stretch their limbs, tofeel solid ground once more under their feet, and to see the blue skyall around their heads! The morning was hot, but a cool breeze blew inshore, giving adelightful freshness to the air. Near at hand were rows of nativehuts, made of poles and bark, and back of these loomed fine groves ofcocoanut trees and other tropical vegetation in the richest profusion. Even the elevations of this volcanic island had their barrennessalleviated by growths of greenery which seemed entirely to cover them. No sooner had the boys sprung out of the machine than three white menapproached them. These introduced themselves as Mr. Plusson, in chargeof the local mission; Mr. Hart, a British trader; and Mr. Shoreman, theAmerican trader who had been engaged to look after their fuel at thisairport. These gentlemen expressed the liveliest cordiality in theirwelcome, and Mr. Plusson plead so hard for them to accompany him to hishome and join him and his wife at breakfast that they consented. They learned that their rivals had arrived about twenty minutes before. Ever since the dastardly attempt of Pete Deveaux and his crowd to wreckthe Sky-Bird in the Indian Ocean, our flyers had been greatly incensedat them, or rather at Pete Deveaux himself, for they had no doubt butthat it was he who had instigated the attack. Paul Ross wasparticularly inflamed at the French aviator's act, and had more thanonce declared since, that the first time they met Deveaux again he wasgoing to thrash him until he begged for mercy. This was rather a boldstatement for Paul to make, since he was but a youth of eighteen whilePete Deveaux must have been close to thirty; but the lad was strong andskillful with his fists, in addition to which his resentment was just. When justice is on one's side it goes a long way toward giving thatperson staying powers in any contest against wrong. For these reasons, when Paul now declared that he could not bear towait another minute before taking Pete Deveaux to account, his chumsmade no attempt to dissuade him, except in the matter of time. Johnpulled him aside, so that explanations would not have to be made totheir new acquaintances, and asked him to defer the matter until afterthey should have had breakfast, to which Paul reluctantly agreed. When they once more reached the field, it was to see their rivals alsojust arriving. Without further ado, Paul walked straight up to PeteDeveaux and said; "Deveaux, why did you drop those rocks down on usback there when we were overhauling you between Colombo and Singapore?" The Frenchman's face paled visibly. He did not like the look in Paul'seye, nor the stern countenances of his friends. But he hoped to bluffhis way through. "Why accuse me of anything like this?" said he, trying to looksurprised and hurt. "We had nothing to do with those stones falling. Their weight broke the catch off of the glass trap, and they wentthrough before we could stop them; didn't they, guys?" He turned tohis three flyers for support. Crossman, Torrey, and Lane nodded their heads. "Sure, " averred Crossman. "What did you have those stones on board for?" demanded John. The _Clarion_ men were silent. Their leader was the first to reply. "We got some kola nuts from the natives at one of our stops, and wantedthe stones to crack them with, " stated Deveaux. "It's a lie!" accused Paul. "Stones do not accidentally fall asstraight as those did. Pete Deveaux, you and your crowd did the bestyou could to wreck us, and I'm going to take it out of your hide rightnow!" "Oh, you are, are you?" sneered the French aviator. "It seems to meI'll have something to say about that, you young whippersnapper! Ifthese friends of yours will keep out of this, I'll promise my boys willkeep out, and I'll give you all the show you want. " "Fair play; that's right!" cried Mr. Shoreman, stepping forward. Hehad heard enough to convince him that nothing but a fistic settlementof the controversy would be adequate, and, with the help of severalwhite traders and sailors, he formed a ring. Like lightning the word went out, and scores of natives came running upto see the encounter. An affair of this kind just suited theirprimitive instincts; it was even a greater treat than seeing anairplane land upon their fair island. So by the time that Paul and Pete Deveaux had thrown off their coats, agreat ring of natives surrounded them, and in its front were numerouswhites from the ships in the harbor. Pete Deveaux was inwardly very nervous, although he was careful not toshow it. Had Paul not been so much younger, Deveaux would probablyhave made some excuse to back out of the fight. As it was, he had asneaking hope of getting the better of Paul, now that the youth'sfriends had agreed not to interfere. He also hoped to injure the boyso badly in the encounter that he could not take his turn operating theSky-Bird for the rest of the journey; at least, cripple him enough todelay his party in getting away from the island. With these evil intents the French flyer conceived still another. Hestepped aside and whispered something in Chuck Crossman's ear, thencame back and faced Paul. Mr. Shoreman gave the signal, and Pete Deveaux feinted and shot hisother fist savagely at Paul's eye. But the boy was wary, dodged theblow, and struck his adversary a hard one in the chest. For a momentDeveaux was staggered; but he quickly recovered, and once more sprangforward. Missing with his right, he succeeded in hitting Paul in the shoulderwith his left. Wheeling like a flash, Paul shot out a fist before theFrenchman could recover his guard, and struck him a smash under the earwhich sent him reeling back into his friends. Pete Deveaux was now thoroughly alarmed. He had not expected suchscience, nor such force, on the part of his opponent. He approachedPaul with much more caution, amid the howls of the natives, and decidedto let him take the offensive. Paul was willing. Encouraged by his success thus far, and bent uponending the fracas as soon as possible, he met his adversary with aheavy swing which just cleared the man's ear. Deveaux struck, butmissed also. Pressed backward, he clinched to save himself, and inthis position, where nobody could see his movements, he viciously triedto put some short jabs into Paul's abdomen. Fortunately for himself Paul succeeded in breaking away before he wasdoubled up by the blows, one of which had landed with sufficient powerto make him utter an involuntary smothered exclamation of pain. "No more of that, Mr. Deveaux!" warned the referee suspiciously, asPaul shoved his opponent back. "Keep out of the clinches! Fight fair!" "Fair! Fair!" yelled the sailors; and the natives took up the cry intheir own language. Paul now advanced, and Pete Deveaux retreated. The latter was reallyfrightened. Something was beginning to tell him that in this youth ofeighteen he had met his superior. "I think we'd better quit, Ross, before we hurt each other, " suggestedthe French flyer cravenly. "This flight business of ours won't standsuch delays as this. We can have this out when we land in Panama. " "No, we can't have it out in Panama!" cried Paul. "Stand up if you'rea man and settle this thing right now. Watch out; I'm coming!" By this time Pete Deveaux had retreated to the lower end of theimprovised ring. He saw that he was cornered; that he must fight oncemore. Lunging forward like a trapped rat, he struck a wicked blow forhis opponent's head. Paul parried it, and as swift as a stroke of lightning his right handstreaked out and caught Deveaux under the jaw. The Frenchman reeledbackward a few steps, and toppled over, full length upon the ground. What a cry went up from the onlookers! By this time the sympathies ofevery one, except Deveaux's own comrades, were with the youth. No one, even a half-civilized savage, at heart likes a coward. For a few moments Pete Deveaux was dazed. But after his cronies hadhelped him to his feet, and started away with him, he still had enoughspite left to shout back, as he shook a fist: "We're not done with youfellows yet!" Paul was now the recipient of congratulations from all sides. Everybody wished to slap him on the shoulder or shake hands with him, it seemed, and the native populace gave him so many cocoanuts, bananas, and pineapples that he was literally hemmed in with fruit, and John, Bob, and Tom had to open up a pathway before he could get out of hissweet-smelling barricade. Our flyers put as much of the gifts in the cabin of the Sky-Bird asthey could find room for, including an abundance of nuts for the happyGrandpa, and then they turned their attention to the pressing businessof overhauling the engines and storing fuel. While they were thus engaged, the _Clarion's_ motor was heard to start;and a few moments later she arose and took off to sea. "Humph!" ejaculated Tom, "those fellows have beat us to it again. " "They ought to; didn't they arrive ahead of us?" asked Tom. "We'll be out of here in fifteen minutes more, " stated John. But the words were no more than out of his mouth when Paul, who hadbeen inspecting the rear end of the machine came dashing excitedlyforward, crying: "Fellows, hob is to pay! Those rascals have cut the wire braces thatsupport the tail-skid, and it's lopping away over!" CHAPTER XXVIII A MIX-UP IN DATES Paul's announcement threw his friends into a state of consternation. As they viewed the wire braces, neatly cut with a pair of nippers, theyrecalled Pete Deveaux's act of whispering in the ear of one of hisparty just preceding the recent fight, and realized now its fullimport. This fellow had slunk out of the crowd, slipped over to theunguarded airplane, and performed the unprincipled trick without anyrisk of being caught at it. Since there was no chance for immediate redress from the guilty party, who were almost out of sight to the eastward, all our flyers could dowas to bend every effort to make repairs as fast as possible. Afterconsiderable skirmishing around, they managed to secure some wire fromone of the vessels in the harbor. The severed strands were thenremoved and new pieces cut to length. It was found that the weight of the machine upon the unsupported skid, had cracked the skid past repair; so they had to whittle out anotherfrom some tough wood, which the natives brought them from the nearbyforest, before they could connect the new wires and were ready to start. Finally they took off at a few minutes past noon, more than three hoursbehind their rivals. It was disheartening, to say the least--all themore so on account of the fact that their delay had again been causedby the sinister acts of the other crew. They made up their minds thatif they should meet Pete Deveaux and his crowd at another stop, something worse than a single fistic encounter would take place! As they soared away toward Nukahiva, with Upolu growing constantlydimmer, John, who had been studying the schedule, turned to hiscompanions and asked: "Do any of you fellows know what date this is?" "Let's see, " mused Bob, at the throttle; "we left Port Darwin theevening of the 26th; the evening of the 27th we were still at sea, andthe next morning--the 28th--" "You're ahead of time just one day, " laughed John. "This is the 27thof the month. " "How do you make that out?" asked Bob. "Didn't we leave Port Darwin onthe 26th?" "Yes, " admitted John. "And the following evening we were at sea?' "Granted. That was last evening--the 27th. " "Then any dunce can see that to-day is the 28th, " said Bob witheringly. "That's what I say, too, " supported Paul. But John only laughed harder, and this time Tom joined him. "John's right, " said Tom; "to-day is the 27th. " "It _can't_ be, " protested Bob. "You own up that yesterday was the27th, don't you?" "I certainly do, " chuckled John; "but you forget one thing, young man:that same evening, all in a moment's time, we crossed the One Hundredand Eightieth Meridian--the date-line of the world--and while it wasThursday, the 27th on the west side of this line, it became Wednesday, the 26th the instant we crossed over to the east side. " "Oh, sure!" exclaimed Bob and Paul, feeling very silly. And the latteradded: "That's where we gain a day in our lives--and to think that Boband I were asleep at that auspicious moment!" "I know an old maid who swears she is fifteen years younger than shereally looks, " commented Tom. "I think she must have done a lot ofglobe trotting, and always east!" "There's no danger of the fair sex ever circling the globe in awesterly direction, " laughed John, "for that would make them one dayolder every time. " The day could not have been better. Hardly a cloud was to be seen onthe horizon, and the regular trade-winds blowing westward were soft andsteady, and they were making excellent time. Grandpa frisked about, perching on this object and that, andoccasionally running back into some secret nook where he had hidden hissupply of nuts. With one of these in his paw he would jump up onsomething, crack it in his powerful small jaws, and look very wise andserious as he picked out the meats with his slim fingers. Finally the monkey had his fill, and hopped up into Tom's lap. Hebegan to play with Tom's hair, smoothing it down pretty soon with theflyer's comb, which he discovered in a pocket. So handy was Grandpawith this utensil that the others went into peals of laughter. Tiringof this, the monkey's eye caught sight of several freckles upon theback of Tom's hand. He tried in vain to pick the freckles off; then hebecame excited, for he could not understand why they would not lift up. He chattered scoldingly at everybody; then tried again. Failing, hesprang down and went to a far corner, in a fine sulk. Evidently hethought Tom was playing a trick on him, and had glued the freckles downsomeway just to tease him; for Tom, it must be admitted, was greatlygiven to bothering Grandpa in some such manner. Shortly before ten o'clock the following morning all hands were up totake a look at their next stopping-off place--Nukahiva, the main islandof the Marquesas group, the place where they hoped to find a supply ofhelium-gas awaiting them. A fine island this--as fine a volcanic upheaval as one will findanywhere. Sheer walls of cloud-capped rock 6, 000 feet high, someliterally overhanging the crystal-clear water, and all embossed andengraved with strangely patterned basalt. There are pillars, battlements, and turrets; so that, with half-closed eyes, it seems youare approaching a temple, a medieval castle, or a mosque of the East. And the valleys--deep, choked with the most rampant growths ofluxuriant vegetation, in the heart of which silvery streams gurgletheir way tortuously along--fade away into mysterious purple mists. Small wonder that this gorgeously beautiful island should have been thehome for a century of one of the finest races of primitive people theworld has ever known! Sad indeed is it that to-day the Marquesans arerapidly dying off from consumption and fever introduced into their fairdomain by civilization itself. Nestling in a good-sized valley near the harbor our flyers saw scoresof native houses, as they drew nearer. These were constructed ofyellow bamboo, tastefully twisted together in a kind of wickerwork, andthatched with the long tapering leaves of the palmetto. Here, too, wasthe big white T of their hopes. In a short time they had safely landed, one hour behind schedule. Their rivals had left an hour and ten minutes before. But joy of joys!here were four tanks of helium, and with a filling of this they wouldshow those fellows how to fly! As fast as they could work, our friends overhauled their machine andput it in shape for the long trip to San Christobal. They would havegiven almost anything to have joined the many natives they saw swimmingin the cool waters of the harbor, but felt that they could not affordto waste a single minute. At twelve-thirty, with the sun at its zenith, they once more took tothe air. This was Thursday. By Friday evening they should be at theGallapagos Islands--their last stop before Panama. What a cheeringthought it was! Heading just a trifle north of east, they ran almost full-out. It waseasy to note the difference in the behavior of the Sky-Bird since herhelium tanks had been fully charged. She sped along as she had in thevery beginning of their journey--like a long bullet fired from somegigantic cannon. How the engine did sing! The wind rushed by themlike a hurricane, and they had to shout in order to be heard when theyhad anything to say to each other. Satisfied that all was going right, Tom and John soon turned in, forthey were very sleepy. When the operating crew awoke them it was dark. Bob then got into wireless communication with Panama, and delivered amessage for Mr. Giddings. Following this, he and Paul also took to thehammocks. When the two youths awoke it was morning, and the Sky-Bird was notbehaving as well as when they had retired. Looking outside they sawthe reason for this. The entire heavens ahead were hidden underdun-colored clouds which in places seemed to be gathering themselvestogether into formidable leaden arrangement. The gentle trade-windshad developed into a stiff wind. Down below, the sea was covered withwhitecaps, while in the distance the water was swinging into immenseswells with foaming crests. John and Tom both looked worried. The two younger boys felt moreuneasy when they noticed this. "I guess we're in for a pretty hard storm, " said John, as he gave thethrottle up to Paul. "Tom and I will stay up a while and see howthings turn out. The Sky-Bird's down to about a hundred an hour now. Better keep her there, Buddy. That's fast enough in a blow like this. " A few minutes later a fork of lightning split the sky ahead. This wasfollowed by another off to the right, then by one off to the left. Then they heard the rumble of thunder, and a heavy gray haze slowlybegan to engulf the sea, rapidly approaching. "That's rain, " cried Paul. "Say, John, if you're not too done outmaybe you had better take the stick again; I'm afraid I won't be equalto what's coming. " His brother complied. John did not wish to frighten his comrades, butthe truth is he knew this would be the worst storm he had ever faced inhis four years of flying. "We'll try to get above those clouds, " he said quietly. He did notlike to tell them just what he thought--that if they did not get abovethe clouds without delay they would either be struck by lightning ortorn to pieces by the terrible whirlpool of winds which he knew thosechurning black masses ahead contained. CHAPTER XXIX A FLYING RESCUE John turned the Sky-Bird upward at as stiff a slant as he felt would besafe for them in that high wind. At nine thousand feet they emergedabove the first layer; but eastward the clouds appeared to terrace upgradually, and in the distance there extended another great wall, towering several thousand feet higher. Some of the rain was now beginning to reach them. It came patteringdown upon the roof; and under the strong impulse of wind and theirspeed, it struck the glass windows in front with a smack like buckshot. The moisture on the panes made it difficult to see out. "Take a reading with the anemometer, Tom, " ordered John, straining hiseyes hard ahead. This little instrument was something like a miniature windmill. Itsfour wings were supplied with cups which, as Tom held the instrumentout of the window facing the wind, caused the spider to revolve. Thelatter was geared to a small dial, over the face of which passed ahand, much like a clock, indicating the speed of the wind. "She's blowing fifty miles an hour, and gaining every minute, "announced Tom. "That's the hardest wind we've been in yet. " "If we stay down here it will be blowing sixty within ten minutes, " wasthe pilot's grim response. Just then there was a blinding flash of light a little way ahead ofthem, accompanied by such a terrific crash of thunder that their earsrang. "Gee!" cried Bob, "that was a close call! I'll bet that bolt camewithin a rod of striking us. " "A miss is as good as a mile, " shouted John cheerfully. He and theothers found that they would have to yell in order to be heard, sogreat was the noise from engine and storm. _Zip!_ went a zigzagging livid streak across their range of vision. Itseemed to be running straight for them, and instinctively theydodged--all but Tom and John. These old veterans continued to gazecoolly straight ahead as though nothing had happened. _Crash-h!_ wenta clap of thunder. It seemed as if the whole heavens were being turnedtopsy-turvy. Even the airplane, usually so steady, heaved and rodelike a rocking-horse. The two younger members of the party were not to be blamed for feelingpretty well frightened by this time. It was one thing to be cuttingthrough the fleecy white clouds of a calm day, and quite another to gostabbing through murky black ones which were rolling angrily, ejectingboth wind and rain, and spitting out vicious roars and jagged streaksof pale-blue flame. One moment they would be in gloom; the nextinstant a cloud would be rent asunder with a ripping, tearing sound, and the whole turbid, boiling sky-universe would be bathed in theghostly light. What a weird, fantastic, chaotic world they were in! But it was only for a few minutes that they were in the worst danger. Soon, to their infinite relief, they had reached their "ceiling. " Theywere now 15, 000 feet up--almost three miles, --and below them lay thevast sea of troubled cloudland, dark and forbidding, rollingtumultuously like an ocean of curdled ink. It was a novel experienceto be running in the clear air over all of this infernality of soundsand sights, while above them the blue, star-studded heavens looked downupon them calmly and peaceably. For almost an hour the furious storm continued in the lower regions. Then it began slowly to subside. First the lightning stopped, then thethunder. The banks of clouds took on a lighter hue, and began to driftapart; a pinnacle here and a crag there were swept off by the winds, until the masses of nimbus became flattened out into patches ofsun-flecked foam as beautiful as fresh-fallen snow. The anemometer spun slower and slower as the gale decreased inviolence, and presently the airplane was gliding along with its normalsmoothness. Here and there, between the patches of white cloud, theycaught glimpses of the ultramarine sea, thousands of feet below them. It was so cold up here, even with the windows closed, that all the boyswere shivering in their warmest wraps. The air, too, was so rarefiedthat it was with considerable difficulty that they could breathe, forthey had been in it for some time. Not one flyer in a hundred can liveat an altitude of twenty thousand feet, as he bleeds at the nose andmouth; and our aviators were up to within five thousand feet of thatheight. It was now time to descend. John shut off both engines, and they began to volplane down in a greatstillness, sailing like an immense hawk. Lower and lower theywent--fourteen, thirteen, twelve, eleven, ten thousand feet. Now theywere gliding through clear, thin air; now cutting a hole through aheavy cloud so impregnated with moisture that it sweat over the glassand the boys would have to wipe a sleeve across hastily to improve thevision. Eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two! That was low enough. All this time the propeller had been spinningfrom the rush of air alone. Now John threw in the clutch; therevolving propeller shaft grabbed the crankshaft of the engine, andonce more it began its rhythmic purr. Just a little upthrust of thetail-elevators and ailerons brought them again into the horizontal in ahuge swoop. Nothing could have been prettier. They had escaped theterrible tornado, leaving it still galloping westward far behind them, and were once more in normal position for continuing their flighttoward the goal! Below them, for miles around, they could once more see the oceanuninterruptedly. Its mountainous waves and deep gorges of a short timeprevious had probably swallowed up many an unlucky ship that morning;but its temper was expended, and all it could do now was to sulk inlong, even billows which every moment became flatter and flatter. How had their rivals fared? This question was in the minds of everyone of our flyers as the Sky-Bird continued swiftly on her course. Intheir hearts was a vague feeling that perhaps Pete Deveaux and hiscrowd might not have come out of the storm as lucky as they, for notone airplane out of a score could have outlived it. Their own escapehad been almost miraculous. But for the good generalship of John theysurely would have met with mishap. So now, as they went along, a sharp lookout was not only kept for theirrivals in the sky ahead, but anxious looks were cast over the expanseof white-capped waters. Calculations told them that by this time theother airplane could not be far ahead. Less than ten minutes later, Tom espied a small object far away ontheir port quarter. It was bobbing about on the waves, rising andfalling. Bob seized a pair of glasses, and took a long look. Heturned around with his face full of excitement. "Heavens, fellows!" he cried; "that object looks like an airplane!" All took a look. Then they, too, were excited, There could be no doubtabout it--the object was a wrecked airplane. And as it was extremelyunlikely that there were other machines in the vicinity than their ownand that of their adversaries', they were quite sure that it must bethe remains of the _Clarion_. John turned the Sky-Bird in the direction of the floating thing, andsoon they saw what seemed to be the form of a human being clinging toone of the wings. John threw in both engines in an effort to get allpossible speed out of the craft. In a little while they were close enough to see that the wreck wasreally the _Clarion_. But what a sad-looking sight was the formerhandsome craft! Her tail had been wrenched off, and only half of oneof her long wings could be seen. Out upon the other, on hands andknees, clinging desperately to the aileron brace, was the hatless, water-soaked figure of a man. As they came closer still they could seehim waving his hand frantically at them. With a glass, Paul saw that this person was Oliver Torrey. Anxiouslyhis eyes roved over the wreck in quest of other survivors, but nonecould he discern. Irony of fate! had all of the others been drowned? John brought the Sky-Bird down to within seventy-five feet of the seaas they approached. Tom seized the speaking trumpet, and as they sweptover the _Clarion_ he bawled out: "Hang on, Torrey! We'll stand by, and save you if we can!" But they were facing a herculean task, and realized it. They could notlight upon the water. Nor could they stop in midair. How in the worldcould they effect the hapless flyer's rescue? John circled at reduced speed while all of their minds were busy tryingto work out the problem. In the meantime Torrey's frantic pleadingsfor them not to go away and leave him to his fate filled their ears. It was a trying, nerve-racking situation. Bob Giddings struck upon the first idea. "Why can't we trail a rope for him to catch?" he asked. "He's probably too weak to climb a rope, " objected Tom. "I'll tell you what we can do, " said Paul, with a happy thought. "Wecan take this coil of rope we have here and make a narrow ladder of it!That will be easy for him to catch, and easy to climb. " All agreed instantly that this was the only hope of rescue. So Johnkept the Sky-Bird slowly wheeling, while his three mates cut and tieduntil they had formed a narrow rope ladder about fifty feet long. Oneend of this they securely fastened in the cabin, while they let theother drop down through the glass trap in the floor. To their dismay the rush of wind carried the light ladder out sohorizontally behind that they saw they could never get low enough withsafety for Oliver Torrey to reach it! What could they do now? Itseemed they were destined to failure; that Torrey must be left to thecruel and hungry waves. "I have it!" cried Bob. "We'll fasten Grandpa near the lower end ofthe ladder. His weight will be sufficient to keep it down straight. " This was a splendid scheme, surely. Accordingly, the monkey, wonderingwhat new form of teasing was about to be imposed upon him, was fastenedabout three feet from the bottom end of the ladder, and Grandpa and hisstrange trapeze was then slowly let down until all of the ladder hadbeen paid out. The crew were glad to note that it now hung almostperpendicularly. Now the success of everything depended upon John. He must be skillfulenough to bring the ladder across Torrey's position in just the rightplace for the flyer to grasp it as it swept past. They shouted to the man below to stand up if he could, andcomprehending in an instant his part of the program, he struggled tohis feet, spreading them wide apart to brace himself, for the wreckedairplane was rocking somewhat from the action of the waves. The first time John brought the Sky-Bird by he was too high; Torreycould not reach the ladder. The second time a sudden gust of wind blewthe ropes too far to one side at the critical moment. The third timethe machine itself was a trifle too far to one side. But on the fourthattempt success met their patient efforts; Torrey's hands seized thebottom rung of the ladder, and a few minutes later he had climbed upinto the cabin and sunk weakly upon the floor. Paul then brought inthe ladder, laughing nervously, and released Grandpa, who had notrelished his part of the proceedings in the least, to judge from hisexcited chattering, most of which was bestowed upon the rescued man. CHAPTER XXX AN ALARMING DISCOVERY One of the first questions our flyers asked of Oliver Torrey, afterthey had helped him remove his wet clothing, was: "Where are your friends?" The _Clarion_ flyer shook his head sadly. "They're done for--drowned. I'm the only one left of our crew. That was an awful storm, boys! Idon't see how you ever survived it. " "We did it by flying over the greater part of it, " said Tom. "How didit happen to get you fellows?" "Pete and Chuck were operating, " explained Oliver Torrey. "Sam and Iboth wanted to get above the tornado, but they said they thought itwouldn't amount to much. When they saw how bad it really was, it wastoo late. A whirlpool of wind struck us at three thousand feet, Petelost control, and we went into a nose-dive from which we neverrecovered. When we struck the sea the force crushed in the front ofthe cabin, stunning Pete, and before any of us could grab him the waveshad washed him out of our sight. Chuck, Sam, and I managed to get outand climb up on the fuselage; but the seas were running so high thathalf of the time we were buried in water. Coming out of one of thesedeluges, I looked around and saw that I was alone. Then the stormpassed, and things looked better for me. But I was just about ready togive up when I saw the Sky-Bird coming. " Oliver Torrey paused a moment, wiped his haggard face, and thencontinued, as he looked earnestly at his rescuers: "Boys, I never can thank you enough for saving my worthless life. It'sawful to think that we guys let Pete Deveaux coax us into doing allthose dirty things to hold you back. I guess we deserved thispunishment. If I ever get back to Panama I'll certainly make whatamends I can by telling the whole disgraceful story to the world. " Tom stepped in front of the _Clarion_ flyer, and shook his finger inhis face. "Torrey, " said Tom, "I think at heart you are all right; butlisten! Mr. Wrenn, who hired you fellows, is a straight man throughand through. If this story gets out it will be published broadcast, and people will think he abetted your crimes against us. So, for hissake----" "I see; I hadn't thought of that, " ejaculated Torrey. "I will keepstill; as far as the public'll ever know, they'll think this was a fairand square contest--and so it was on your part. " It must be remembered that John and Tom had had no sleep since the dayprevious. They were so tired by now, especially John, that they werevery glad to retire to the hammocks, leaving Paul and Bob to take careof the Sky-Bird. Oliver Torrey was also exhausted, and accepted withalacrity Paul's invitation to him to jump into the spare hammock. Within five minutes the two youths were the only ones awake. It seemed good to the boys to feel that soon they would be at SanCristobal, their last stop before the final hop. They flew along withthe throttle wide open for the next hour, eager to make up for thedelay caused by the storm and the rescue of Torrey. Then they reducedthe speed a little, to make sure they would not overheat the engine, but still they made good time. Shortly before six o'clock that afternoon they sighted a blue hazewhich a little later developed into a group of several islands. Thesethey knew, by consulting their chart, were the Gallapagos, the home ofthe largest land-turtles ever known, monsters so enormous that one ofthem could walk off with two half-grown boys on his broad back. There are over two thousand volcano cones in these islands, and soonour friends were almost in the midst of them. On all sides and at alldistances were rugged peaks one hundred to two thousand feet high, rising sheer from a rose-pink sea over which the declining sun playedravishingly. Along the shores pelicans soared above the shallowinlets, watching for unwary fish. Tiny birds darted in and out amongthe cliffs. Down in the crystal depths of the sea, over shelves ofcoral, vague shapes hovered and passed and repassed--sharks, dolphins, turtles, and grunts, even the ghastly devil-fish. All life seemed confined to water and to air; never was dry land sodesolate-looking as those myriads of barren volcanic cones. Yet one ofthese islands was peopled with human beings--San Cristobal. Which one was it? The easternmost of the group, said the chart. Circling that way. Bob gave a yelp like a pup which sees his youngermaster after he has been away all day. "I see Dalrymple Rock!" he cried, with the binoculars to his eyes. "Isee Wreck Point, too, and a bay between 'em, with houses on the beach. That looks like our number, all right. What more do you want, Paul?" "Nothing, " laughed Paul, --"except our landing field. Find that, wakeup the other fellows, and I'll be satisfied. " In a moment Bob pointed out a flat field marked with the welcome whiteT, then he aroused John and Tom while Paul was bringing the Sky-Birddown. From a rickety old pier, also from the shores where they hadgathered, a crowd of curious natives rushed forward to witness thelanding of the most startling object they had ever seen. They were amixture of South Americans, mostly Ecuadoreans, and not until ourfriends stepped out of the cabin did they summon up enough courage toget very close to the machine. Among them was the owner of the island--a good-looking youngEcuadorean, highly educated, who was to look after their interests inthe matter of fuel, --and the chief of police (presumably "chief, "because there is only one representative of the law in the Galapagos). The owner of San Cristobal informed the flyers in excellentFrench, --which all of them except Oliver Torrey could speak, --that hewas delighted to welcome the first airplane crew to his little domain;that weeks ago the ship had brought gasoline and oil, which was nowawaiting their pleasure in the little nearby shanty; that he and hispolice officer and the peons were eager to serve them in any way theycould; and would the brave American aviators favor him and his policeofficer by joining them at the hacienda for dinner that evening? Our friends graciously accepted this invitation, upon finding thattheir host would appoint a watch for the airplane. They then went withhim to his pretty hacienda in the valley--a green, undulating country, dotted with grazing cattle and horses, patches of sugar-cane, coffeebushes, and lime trees, stretching away to a cloud-capped range ofmountains. Situated upon a hillock, in the midst of this entrancing valley, andsurrounded by the peons' grass houses, was the owner's home. Here theflyers partook of an excellent repast, garnished with the best theisland could afford, including tender wild duck from the surroundinglagoons and savory turtle soup. Then followed songs by their host, andjolly college melodies by themselves, accompanied by the sweet strainsof a guitar in the hands of the police officer. Out in the compound, the peons also celebrated the occasion. Therewere great oil flares, thrummings of guitars, gyrating dancers inbright-hued ponchos, merry cries, the laughing of children, the barkingof dogs. Everybody seemed thoroughly happy and contented. And, after all, whatelse matters? That is the Ecuadorean point of view, and who shall sayit is a bad one? It was difficult for the boys to remind themselves that here they wereprecisely on the equator, so positively chilly was it. And yet theywere. It was the third time which they had touched that imaginarygirdle of the earth in the past week or so; and it was to be their lastcrossing. How inspiring the thought that they were now within one hopof their goal; that sometime on the morrow they would probably reachPanama well within their time limit of ten days! The fact is, they had only 650 miles ahead of them--a distance whichcould easily be covered, barring accidents, inside of five hours, andthey had until one o'clock the following day in which to reach theirdestination. When they realized this, and were pressed mostinsistently by the owner of the island to spend the night, under theshelter of his roof, where there were two spare beds, the tired, bed-hungry flyers decided to remain over, Oliver Torrey going to thehouse of the police "chief. " Torrey was really in no physicalcondition, as it was, to continue the flight immediately, for he hadsuffered a chill as the result of his exposure, and felt very weak. Next morning they were up at the break of day, and at once began thetask of refilling the tanks of the Sky-Bird and giving her machinery ageneral overhauling. Torrey felt much better, and assisted in theseoperations. His gratitude to the boys for deciding not to divulge theduplicity of the unfortunate crew with whom he had been connected wasvery great, and he spared no effort to help them on towardsuccess--which goes to show that this fellow was not at all bad atheart but had simply gotten in with a bad crowd. It was a good thing that the flyers went over their engines. Johnfound a loose coupling in one, and a stretched fan belt in the other. Had they gone on in this condition trouble would have been sure tovisit them. It was small wonder, however, that something should not beout of good working order, for these faithful pieces of mechanism hadbeen given the hardest kind of usage day in and day out, each in itsturn, and sometimes working together, in this long flight around theearth. Their final test had been the storm. More than once the boyshad marveled at the remarkable efficiency of their motive power. Whata tribute to the mechanical genius of modern man had these enginespaid! They were almost human in intelligence, more than human in theiruntiring zeal. The repairs were not difficult to make; the belt was cut and fastenedagain with a leather lace borrowed from the police "chief's" shoe, andthe careful use of a wrench and other tools out of their kit finallyfixed the loose coupling. But these operations had consumedunlooked-for valuable time, and when they had had breakfast with theirfriends and were ready at last to go, they found that the watch oftheir host indicated the hour of nine. Setting their own watches to this local time, as had been their customin all towns upon arriving or leaving, our flyers once more thankedtheir entertainers for courtesies extended, wished them good-bye, andgot in their machine. As they taxied swiftly down the course, the rush of wind from the bigpropeller sent more than one Ecuadorean's wide-brimmed hat flying fromhis head, and to the enjoyment of all, a native who was perchedprecariously upon an up-ended cask was blown heels-over-head backwards. No sooner had they straightened out upon their northeasterly coursethan Bob sat down to his instruments and called up the Panama wirelessstation. In about ten minutes he got it, and told of their positionand the accident to the _Clarion_. They all knew that when the news ofthis catastrophe reached the American newspapers there would be thegreatest excitement, and that Mr. Wrenn would not only be grievouslydisappointed but horrified at the fate of the three members of his crew. They now had just four hours in which to reach their goal. That meantthey must travel at an average rate of better than 160 miles an hour. Since they had gone considerably faster than this when the occasion hadwarranted it in the past, they felt no anxieties now. John, who was atthe throttle, opened the Sky-Bird up to 165, and at this gait theyskimmed swiftly along over the blue-green waters of the big Pacific. "This speed ought to bring us in by twelve-thirty--a good half-hourahead of our limit, --so there's no need of rushing matters, " said John, to which sentiment his comrades agreed. By eleven o'clock all were keenly on the look-out. Each flyer covetedthe honor of being the first one to see the coastline of CentralAmerica, the resting-place of Panama. Paul, with the binoculars to his eyes, was the one to win. It was justexactly 11:25 when he shouted in true mariner's style: "Land ho, myhearties!" Taking the glass, one by one his comrades gladly echoed theannouncement. But suddenly Bob's face turned chalky. "Jiminy, fellows, " he cried, "what boneheads we are! We have been figuring on San Cristobal timeall the while. Panama's close to an hour ahead!" "And we've only got thirty-five minutes in which to land!" said Tom. "Huckleberry pie! Boneheads we are! Boneheads, boneheads! I repeatit--boneheads, boneheads! It's all off now. " Tom actually wrung his hands in his misery, and the others felt justabout as humiliated and disgusted with themselves. "Here's where our prize goes a-flickering, " groaned Paul. "We nevercan make Panama in thirty-five minutes!" "I don't know about that, " declared his brother grimly. "Here goes forthe effort, anyhow. I'll make the Sky-Bird fly as she has never flownbefore!" With that he brought the throttle wide open, and two minutes laterthrew the second engine into commission. CHAPTER XXXI THE FINISH They were not beaten yet! The wind whistled, shrieked, and roared asit swept aft along the smooth body of the Sky-Bird. The propellerwhirred, and the engines purred like two huge twin cats. So great werethe noises combined that the voice was completely overwhelmed, and noeffort was made by the flyers to talk with one another. With their pulses beating wildly and hearts thumping in accord, theywatched the hazy streak on the horizon line ahead rapidly develop intothe unmistakable rugged form of land. As they drew closer, they couldeven see the glint of water on the other side, and knew without theshadow of doubt that what they were looking at was the long belt ofearth connecting the two Americas--the Isthmus of Panama itself. Anddown their backs ran a new thrill at the recognition. Larger and larger loomed the brown and green strip in advance. Presently, amid the checker-board of nature's colorations, they couldmake out a bay and on a tongue of land a considerable collection ofbuildings. It was Panama City! Five minutes later they could evendistinguish the American flag--how glorious the sight!--fluttering atthe staffhead of the courthouse, and could see the streets and ships inthe harbor thronged with people who were evidently waiting to welcomethem. The excitement of the throngs increased as the airplane drew closer. People jumped up and down, yelled, and waved their hats. It had beenonly a few minutes before that Bob had received the radio admonitionfrom the Panama station; "Town gone wild; but hurry in. You only havesix minutes left!" Now they were circling high over the heads of the populace, with oneengine shut off and the speed of the other much reduced. In graceful, pretty circles the Sky-Bird began to spiral her way downward, John'seyes fastened upon the big white T of the familiar airdrome. As theycame down, people in the outlying districts rushed madly toward thefield, and the streets everywhere were choked with the concoursepouring toward the center of attraction. Scores of others had previously posted themselves in the airdrome; butall were kept back by a cordon of ropes and a guard of Zone policemen. Inside of the barrier were a favored few Government officials anddistinguished personages, newspaper men, photographers, and Mr. Giddings and Mr. Wrenn themselves. Colonel Hess, the judge of thecontest, was also present, ready to receive the flyers' affidavits ofstops. As the flyers stepped out of their machine many a camera clicked, andthe air was filled with the cheers of the multitude. Colonel Hess stepped quickly up. In one hand was a watch; the otherwas extended. "My heartiest congratulations, boys!" he exclaimed, as he receivedtheir paper. "You have arrived just in the nick of time. Panama time, it is now exactly fifty-nine minutes after twelve!" They had won by one minute! The flyers were so tickled that they alsofelt like cheering. But they were sobered instantly when Mr. Wrenncame forward and they saw how sorrowful he looked in spite of the bravesmile with which he greeted them. "Young men, " said the publisher of the Clarion, "as the loser in thiscontest I also wish to congratulate you. We have suffered a heavy blowourselves, but you deserve full credit for the good work you have done, and I am not the kind of a contemporary to withhold compliments sofairly earned. I trust my men conducted themselves as true sportsmen, poor fellows. " Noticing that Oliver Torrey was on the point of making reply, John gavehim a warning look, and a moment later pulled him aside and said in alow voice: "Mr. Wrenn should not know that you fellows did not conductyourselves otherwise than fair in this race. That would make him feelall the worse. Keep mum to _everybody_ about this, and we'll do thesame. " Oliver Torrey nodded--tears in his eyes as he saw how desirous theSky-Bird's crew were of protecting his own interests as well as thegood name of his former associates. What fine fellows they were! Howhe wished he could have been allied with them on this cruise, insteadof with Pete Deveaux and his bunch! The hardships and perils of the past ten days were forgotten in theexcitement of the present. Our flyers hardly knew what they weredoing, so great was their joy. They shook hands with scores, heartsswelling with those emotions invoked by achievement and the glamor ofthe moment. It was--and always will be, perhaps, --the supreme hour oftheir lives. Almost reverently they looked over the Sky-Bird. Through everypossible climatic rigor the airplane had passed, and practicallywithout any attention. Not once, from the time they had left this veryairdrome until they had reached it again, after traversing close to25, 000 miles, had she been under shelter or sulked on them throughdeficient construction. Given a few days to overhaul her engines, theyfelt they would be quite capable of repeating their worldrecord-breaking achievement, if it were necessary. These reflections were of brief duration, however; for the crowd, having forced its way past the barriers, and having satisfied itscuriosity over the machine, directed their attention to the flyers. Brimming with enthusiasm, they lifted every one of them shoulder high, laughing and cheering, and conveyed them to an extemporized platformmade from a large box. From this elevation, each flyer in his turn wascalled upon for a speech. The boys made these quite brief, but werevociferously applauded; and then the two famous publishers were askedto contribute. Following came the governor of the Zone, who veryeloquently expressed the pride the little Republic felt in starting offand witnessing the finish of this memorable event, and he said the keysof Panama were at the disposal of the young aviators until they shouldfeel it incumbent upon them to leave for the States. For three days our friends remained, and during that time they were thealmost constant recipients of honors from civic clubs and associationsof the city, as well as from the English-speaking citizenry in general. They were entertained at dinners, at the theater, and at sportingevents out-of-doors--and not a penny were they allowed to spendthemselves. To the aviators it all seemed like a festival snatched from the coversof "Arabian Nights. " Had genii and fairies, elfs and goblins, appearedbefore them bearing gifts of gold and jewels they would hardly havebeen surprised, so unreal did everything appear to their tired minds;and tired bodies only grew more tired under the stress of the socialdemands. Strange indeed were their feelings when, upon looking at back files ofnewspapers, they read the history of their exploits, recorded with adegree of detail which must have taxed the imaginative resources ofeditorial staffs to gray hairs; and saw picture after picture takenwith their own camera and sent across many a continent in the form ofundeveloped film, now to bring before their eyes once more the realismof the moment when they were taken. There were photographs ofthemselves collectively and individually in many a place now fardistant; views of the machine at rest, and of parts of it among theclouds and above them; two views of the fight with the condors; severalof Grandpa in various amusing positions; many pictures of foreignplaces and of natives; illustrations showing the battle with thedevil-fish; storms as seen from below, and storms as seen below whenflying above them. Even pictures of the wreck of the _Clarion_, and ofOliver Torrey climbing up the rope ladder, were not missing. Before the flyers left Panama, Paul received many offers to sellGrandpa to various admirers, but no amount of money could have inducedhim to part with this faithful little mascot. Oliver Torreyparticularly felt that he owed a great debt of gratitude to the monkey. When the party finally reached New York City, after a non-incidentalflight of one night and the major portion of a day, they were givenanother ovation--one which far outrivaled in volume the one they hadreceived at Panama. The mayor and city officials wished to fête them, but the boys were too exhausted to stand more of such doings; theywished to get home as soon as possible, hide from everybody but thosein their immediate families, and just rest--rest--rest. They didn'tthink they would even care to see their dear old Sky-Bird again forseveral months. It would be hard indeed to comprehend the feelings that surged throughthe flyers as they landed the airplane in the fair-grounds of their ownnative town--Yonkers--and were greeted by hundreds of familiar facesand voices, to say nothing of the hand-clasps of many old-time friends. But, after all, the reunion with their own relatives was the cause forthe greatest thanksgiving, as we may assume. Both Paul's and Bob'smothers had prepared the choicest of dinners for their famous sons, andthat evening the Ross and Giddings families were the happiest andmerriest ones in town. Mr. Giddings and Mr. Wrenn both realized more out of the advertisingthan the contest had cost them. The former met his agreement by givingeach of his flyers five thousand dollars, and his business rival didlikewise by Oliver Torrey. Later on, Bob and the Ross boys sold theirpatents on the Sky-Bird to a large airplane manufacturing company for asum which promised to make them independent for the rest of their lives.