Dick Hamilton's Airship Part 39

"That must be Uncle Ezra's machine," murmured d.i.c.k. "He's right after us. Well, we'd better get on our course again."

"I think so," agreed Mr. Vardon. The Abaris was sent in a Westerly direction once more, and those aboard settled down to what they hoped would be the last "lap" of the big race.

But matters were not destined to be as easy and comfortable as they hoped for. Soon after supper that night the wind sprang up. It increased in violence until, at ten o'clock, there was a howling gale, through which the airs.h.i.+p had to fight her way with almost all her available power.

"Some wind!" cried d.i.c.k, when he went on duty, and, glancing at the gage noted it to be blowing at seventy miles an hour.

"Luckily it isn't altogether dead against us," said Mr. Vardon. "As it is, though, it's cutting down our speed to about twenty miles an hour, and I don't want to force the engine too much."

"No," agreed d.i.c.k. "It isn't worth while, especially as the gale is serving the other craft just as it is us."

CHAPTER XXVIII

ABLAZE IN THE CLOUDS

There was small consolation, however, for those aboard d.i.c.k's craft, in the thought that other competing airs.h.i.+ps were in the same plight as themselves. For, as the night wore on, the wind seemed to increase in power. Only the mechanical strength of the Abaris enabled her to weather the storm.

"We could not possible do it were it not for the gyroscope stabilizer,"

declared Lieutenant McBride. "We would be on our beams ends all the while. It's a great invention."

"Well, this certainly is a good test of it," agreed Mr. Vardon, with pardonable pride.

Indeed, no more severe strain could have been put upon the apparatus.

There would come a great gust of the tornado, and the s.h.i.+p would begin to heel over. But the marvelous power of the gyroscope would force her back again.

On through the night and through the gale went the airs.h.i.+p. So severe was the storm that it was not deemed wise for any one to remain in his bunk. So everyone spent the hours of darkness in wakeful watching and waiting.

"We want to be ready to act in any emergency," explained Mr. Vardon.

"There's no telling when something may give way under the strain."

"Well, then we ought to go over all the machinery every ten minutes or so, and see if anything is wrong," suggested d.i.c.k. "We might see the trouble starting in time to prevent it."

"Good idea!" cried the lieutenant. "We'll make periodical inspections.

Everyone on the job, as the boys say."

The task of looking after the machinery was divided up among the young aviators, and, as the craft was swayed this way and that by the gale, eager and anxious eyes watched every revolution of the gear wheels, pistons were minutely inspected in the light of electric torches, and valves adjusted when they showed the least sign of going wrong.

Poor Grit seemed to be afraid, which was something new for him. He would not leave d.i.c.k for an instant, but kept at his heels, even when his master went near the sparking motors and dynamos, which the bulldog had good reason to fear. But now he seemed more afraid of something else than the machines that had shocked him.

"I wonder what's the matter?" spoke the young millionaire. "I never saw him act this way before. What is it, old boy?" he asked soothingly.

Grit whined uneasily.

"Sometimes animals have premonitions," said Mr. Vardon. "I remember once, in my early days of flying, I took a dog up with me.

"Everything seemed to be going along fine, but the dog showed signs of uneasiness, though it wasn't on account of the height, for he'd been up before. But it wasn't five minutes later before one of my propeller blades broke off, and I nearly turned turtle before I could make a landing."

"I hope nothing like that occurs now," said Larry. "It might make a good story, but it would be a mighty uncomfortable feeling."

"I don't antic.i.p.ate anything," said the aviator. "We seem to be doing very well. But we are making scarcely any progress, and we are being blown considerably off our course."

"We'll make it up when the wind stops," d.i.c.k said. "I'm determined to win that prize!"

"This is a peculiar storm," Lieutenant McBride observed. "It seems to be nothing but wind. I'm inclined to think there had been an area of low pressure about this region, caused possibly by some other storm, and the air from another region is now rus.h.i.+ng in, filling up the partial vacuum."

"In that case we might try to rise above it," suggested Mr. Vardon.

"I've often done that. We could go up. It would not be advisable to go down any lower, as we don't want to run the risk of colliding with any mountains, and we are getting pretty well to the Northwest now.

Suppose we try to go up?"

This was agreed on as a wise plan, and d.i.c.k, who was taking his turn at the wheel, s.h.i.+fted the rudder to send his craft up on a long slant.

But now a new difficulty arose. It seemed that the change in angle made a heavier wind pressure on the big planes, and the speed of the airs.h.i.+p was reduced to a bare ten miles an hour. In fact she seemed almost stationary in the air, at times.

"This won't do!" cried d.i.c.k. "We've got to turn on more power, even if we do strain the machinery. We've got to have more speed than this!"

"That's right!" cried Mr. Vardon. "I'll turn 'em up, d.i.c.k."

And with the increased speed of the big motor that was whirling the propellers came increased danger of a break. Vigilance was redoubled, and they had their reward for their care.

"Here's something wrong!" cried Innis, as he pa.s.sed a small dynamo that supplied current for the electric lights. "A hot bearing!" and he pointed to where one was smoking.

"Shut down! Quick!" cried Mr. Vardon. "Throw over the storage battery switch. That will run the lights until that shaft cools. It must have run out of oil."

The dynamo was stopped and as the storage battery was not powerful enough to operate all the lights for very long, only part of the incandescents were used, so that the interior of the s.h.i.+p was only dimly lighted.

"Use your portable electric torches to examine the machinery in the dark places," directed the aviator. "We'll use the dynamo again as soon it cools."

This machine, going out of commission, had no effect on the progress of the airs.h.i.+p. She was still fighting her way upward, with d.i.c.k at the wheel, and Grit crouching uneasily near him. The dog gave voice, occasionally, to pitiful whines.

"What is it, old boy?" asked d.i.c.k. "Is something wrong?"

And Grit's manner showed very plainly that there was. But what it was no one could guess.

"How is she coming, d.i.c.k?" asked Innis, a little later. "Can I relieve you?"

"No, I'm not tired. It's only a nervous sort of feeling. I feel as if I were trying to push the airs.h.i.+p along."

"I know how it is," murmured the cadet.

"But just take it easy. How is she doing?"

"Better, I think. We seem to be gaining a little. If we could only get above the gale we'd be all right. But it's hard forcing her up.

I'd just like to know how Uncle Ezra is making out."

As a matter of fact, as d.i.c.k learned later, his relative had no easy time of it. He had gotten off in fair weather, and under good circ.u.mstances, but engine trouble developed after the first few hours, and, while he and Larson, with the army man, did not have to come down, they could only fly at slow speed.

"I don't know what's the matter with the thing," said Larson. "I'm afraid we'll have to use even a different carburetor."