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"That's right," agreed the army man.
"How you making it, d.i.c.k?" asked Larry, as he came to the door of the pilot-house.
"Well, I've got five hundred feet left. If he can't get the motor going before we go down that far--"
d.i.c.k did not finish, but they all knew what he meant.
"Another second and I'll have the last wire in!" cried Mr. Vardon. "Do your best, d.i.c.k."
"I'm doing it. But she's dipping down fast."
"Oh, for a dirigible balloon now!" cried the lieutenant. "We could float while making repairs."
But it was useless to wish for that. They must do the best they could under the circ.u.mstances.
"There she is! The last wire in!" shouted the aviator. "How much s.p.a.ce left, d.i.c.k?"
"About two hundred feet!"
"That may do it. Now to see if the self-starter will work!"
Eagerly he made a jump for the switch. He pulled it over. There was a brilliant blue spark, as the gap was closed.
The electrical starter hummed and whined, as if in protest at being obliged to take up its burden again.
Then, with a hum and a roar, the motor that had stalled began to revolve. Slowly at first, but soon gathering speed.
"Throw in the propeller clutch!" yelled d.i.c.k. "We're going right toward a hill, and I can't raise her any more."
"In she goes!" yelled Lieutenant McBride, as he pulled on the lever.
There was a grinding of gears as the toothed wheels meshed, and the big wooden propellers began to revolve.
"There she goes!" cried Mr. Vardon.
The Abaris, which had almost touched the earth, began to soar upward under the propelling influence. d.i.c.k tilted back the elevating plane as far as he dared.
Had the motive power come in time, or would they land on the hill?
But success was with them. Up went the big airship. Up and up, flying onward. Her fall had been checked.
And only just in time, for they went over the brow of the hill but with a scant twenty feet to spare. So close had they come to making a landing.
"I congratulate you!" cried Lieutenant McBride. "I thought surely you would go down." He had out his pencil and paper to make a note of the time of landing. It would have been the last one allowed, and it would seriously have handicapped d.i.c.k. But he had escaped, and still had some reserve to his credit.
"And now I guess we can eat," said the young millionaire, with a sigh of relief.
"A quick bite, only," stipulated Mr. Vardon. "Some of those wires I put in last are a disgrace to an electrician. I want to change them right away. They won't stand the vibration."
"Well, coffee and sandwiches, anyhow," said d.i.c.k, and the simple meal was soon in progress.
Steadily the airship again climbed up toward the clouds, from which she had so nearly fallen. And with a sandwich and a cup of coffee beside him, Mr. Vardon worked at the wires, putting in permanent ones in place of the temporary conductors. This could be done without stopping the motor.
"I wonder if it was the fire Grit was antic.i.p.ating all the while he acted so queer?" asked Innis.
"I don't know--but it was something," d.i.c.k said. "I shouldn't wonder but what he did have some premonition of it. Anyhow, you gave the alarm in time, old boy!" and he patted his pet on the back.
Grit waved his tail, and barked. He seemed himself again.
It took some time to make good the damage done by the fire, and it was accomplished as the airship was put back on her course again, and sent forward toward the Pacific coast. They were all congratulating themselves on their narrow escape from possible failure.
It was that same afternoon, when Mr. Vardon had finished his task, that something else happened to cause them much wonderment.
The motor was again in almost perfect condition, and was running well.
Most of the party were out on the deck behind the cabin, enjoying the air, for the day had been hot, and they were tired from fighting the tire.
Suddenly Grit, who was in the pilot-house with d.i.c.k, ran out into the main cabin, and, looking from one of the windows, which he could do by jumping up in a chair, he began to bark violently.
"Well, what's the matter now?" demanded d.i.c.k. "Is it another fire?"
Grit barked so persistently that d.i.c.k called to Paul:
"See what ails him; will you? He must have caught sight of something out of the window."
"I should say he had!" yelled Paul, a moment later. "Here's a rival airship after us, d.i.c.k!"
CHAPTER x.x.x
AN ATTACK
Paul's announcement created considerable excitement. Though they had covered a large part of their trip, the young aviators had not yet seen any of their compet.i.tors. As a matter of fact, d.i.c.k's craft was among the first to get away in the trans-continental race. But he had feared, several times, that he might be overtaken by lighter and speedier machines.
Now, it seemed, his fears were about to be realized. For the big biplane that Grit had first spied, could be none other than one of those engaged in a try for the twenty-thousand-dollar prize. They were now nearing the Rockies, and it was not likely that any lone aviator would be flying in that locality unless he were after the government money.
"Another airship; eh?" cried d.i.c.k. "Let me get a look at her! Someone take the wheel, please."
"I'll relieve you," offered Lieutenant McBride, whose official duties allowed him to do this. "Go see if you can make out who she is, d.i.c.k."
The approaching craft had come up from the rear, and to one side, so she could not be observed from the pilot-house in front.
Catching up a pair of powerful field-gla.s.ses, d.i.c.k went to where Paul stood with Grit, looking out of the celluloid window. By this time some of the others had also gathered there.
"It's a big machine all right," murmured Innis.
"And there are three aviators in her," added Paul.