Exactly what passed between Uncle Ezra Larabee and his caller, Aunt Samantha never learned. She was so overcome at seeing the parlor opened, that perhaps she did not listen sufficiently careful. She overheard the murmur of voices, and, now and then, such expressions as "above the clouds," "in the air," "twenty thousand dollars, and maybe more."
"Gracious goodness!" she murmured as she hurried out to the kitchen, where she smelled something burning on the stove. "I wonder what it's all about? Can Ezra have lost money on some of his investments? If he has, if it's gone up above the clouds, and in the air, the way he's talking about it things will be terrible; terrible! It will come nigh onto killin' him, I expect!"
She went back to listen again outside the parlor door, but could make out nothing.
She did catch, however, her husband's expression of:
"Twenty thousand dollars! It's a pile of money! A heap!"
"Oh my!" she murmured faintly. "If he's lost that we'll go to the poorhouse, sure!"
But nothing like that happened. As a matter of fact Uncle Ezra could have lost that sum several times over, and not have felt it except in the anguish of his mind.
When the caller had gone, Uncle Ezra seemed rather cheerful, much to the amazement of Aunt Samantha. She could not understand it. At the same time her husband appeared to be worried about something.
"But he doesn't act as though he had lost a lot of money," his wife reasoned. "He certainly acts queer, but not just that way. I wonder what it can be?"
And during the next week Uncle Ezra acted more queerly than ever. He received several other visits from the strange man who had given his name to Aunt Samantha, when first calling, as "Lieutenant Larson." Also, Mr. Larabee went off on several short trips.
"I wonder whatever's got into him?" mused Aunt Samantha. "I never knew him to act this way before. I do hope he isn't doing anything rash!"
If she had only known!
Uncle Ezra became more and more engrossed with his caller who came several days in succession. They were shut up together in the parlor, and one window shutter was opened each time, to the horror of Mrs. Larabee.
"That carpet will be faded all out, and clean ruined," she complained to her husband.
"Well, if it is, maybe I'll get money enough to buy a new one," said Uncle Ezra. "Mind, I'm not saying for sure," he added, cautiously, "but maybe."
"Why, how you talk!" cried Aunt Samantha. "That carpet ought to last us until we die! A new carpet! I never heard tell of such a thing! Never in all my born days! The idea!"
Uncle Ezra chuckled grimly. It was clear that he was acting in a new role, and he was a surprise, even to himself.
At last Aunt Samantha could stand the suspense no longer. One night, after a rather restless period, she awakened Uncle Ezra who had, most unusually, been talking in his sleep.
"Ezra! Ezra! Wake up!" she demanded in a loud whisper, at the same time vigorously shaking him.
"Eh! What is it? Burglars?" he asked, sitting up in bed.
"No, Ezra. Nothin' like that!"
"Oh, cats, eh? Well, if it's only cats go to sleep. I don't mind 'em."
"No, Ezra, I didn't say cats. But you're talkin' in your sleep. That is, you were."
"I was?"
"Yes."
"What'd I say?" and he seemed anxious.
"Why you were talkin' a lot about flyin' in the air, and goin' up to the clouds, and bein' in a race, and winnin' twenty thousand dollars! Oh, Ezra, if you care for me at all, tell me what mystery this is!" she pleaded.
"Did I say all that?" he asked, scratching his head.
"Yes, and a lot more! You said something about an airship."
"Humph! Well, that's it!"
"What is?"
"An airship! I might as well tell you, I reckon. I'm having one of them contraptions made."
"What contraptions? Oh, Ezra!"
"An airship," he answered. "I'm going to have one, and win a twenty thousand dollar prize from the government. Then I'll go into the airship business and sell 'em. I'll get rich, Samantha!"
"Oh Ezra! Do you mean to say you're goin' in for any such foolishness as that?"
"'Tain't 'foolish!"
"'Tis so! And—and are you—are you goin' to go up in one of them things—them airships?"
"Well, I reckon I might. It's my machine, and I'm not going to let them aviary fellers monkey too much with it unless I'm on board. They might bust something, and want me to pay for it. Yes, I reckon I'll do some flying myself."
"Ezra Larabee!" cried his horror-stricken wife. "Be you plumb crazy?"
"I hope not, Samantha."
"But goin' up in an airship! Why it's flyin' in the face of Providence!"
"Well, it'll be flying in the air, at the same time," he chuckled. Clearly this was a different Uncle Ezra than his wife had ever known. She sighed.
"The idea!" Aunt Samantha murmured. "Goin' up in an airship. You'll fall and be killed, as sure as fate."
"That's what I was afraid of first," said Uncle Ezra, "and I didn't want to go into the scheme. But this young feller, Lieutenant Larson, he proved to me different. They can't fall. If your engine stops all you got to do is to come down like a feather. He used some funny word, but I can't think of it now. But it's safe—it's safer than farming, he claims. Most any time on a farm a bull may gore you, or a threshing engine blow up. But there's nothing like that in an airship.
"Besides, think of the twenty thousand dollars I'm going to get," he added as a final argument.
"You're not sure of it," objected his wife.
"Oh, yes I be!" he boasted. "Then I'm going into the airship business. Well, now I've told you, I'm going to sleep again."
"As if anyone could sleep after hearin' such news," she sighed. "I jest know suthin' will happen! And think what everybody will say about you! They'll say you're crazy!"
"Let 'em!" he replied, tranquilly. "They won't say so when I get that twenty thousand dollars!"
"But can't you get the money any easier way?" she wanted to know.
"How, I'd like to know? All I got to do to get this, is to get an airship to fly from New York to San Francisco."
"Why Ezra Larabee!" she exclaimed. "Now I'm sure you're not right in your head. You'll have the doctor in the mornin'."
"Oh, no, I won't!" he declared. "Don't catch me wasting any money on doctors. I'm all right."
How Aunt Samantha managed to get to sleep again she never knew. But she did, though her rest was marred by visions of airships and balloons turning upside down and spilling Mr. Larabee all over the landscape.
Mrs. Larabee renewed her objections in the morning, but her husband was firm. He had decided to have an airship built to compete for the big prize, and Larson was going to do the work.
Just what arguments the aviator had used to win over Uncle Ezra none but he himself knew. I rather think it was the harping constantly on the twenty thousand dollar prize.
That Mr. Larabee was hard to convince may easily be imagined. In fact it was learned, afterward, that the lieutenant almost gave up the attempt at one time. But he was persistent, to gain his own ends at least, and talked earnestly. Finally Uncle Ezra gave a rather grudging consent to the scheme, but he stipulated that only a certain sum be spent, and that a comparatively small one.
To this the lieutenant agreed, but I fancy with a mental reservation which meant that he would get more if he could.
At any rate preparations for building the craft, in an unused part of Uncle Ezra's woolen mill at Dankville, went on apace.
I say apace, and yet I must change that. Uncle Ezra, with his usual "closeness" regarding money, rather hampered Larson's plans.
"What do you reckon an airship ought to cost?" Mr. Larabee had asked when he first decided he would undertake it.
"Oh, I can make a good one for three thousand dollars," had been the answer of the former lieutenant.
"Three thousand dollars!" whistled Uncle Ezra. "That's a pot of money!"
"But you'll get twenty thousand dollars in return."
"That's so. Well, go ahead. I guess I can stand it." But it was not without many a sigh that the crabbed old man drew out the money from the bank, in small installments.
The work was started, but almost at once Larson demanded more than the original three thousand. Uncle Ezra "went up in the air," so to speak.
"More money!" he cried. "I shan't spend another cent!"
"But you'll have to. We want this airship to win the prize, and get ahead of the one your nephew is building. I have decided on some changes, and they will cost money."
Uncle Ezra sighed—and gave in. The truth was that Larson was little better than a sharper, and, though he did know something about aeroplanes, he knew more about how to fleece his victims.
And though Uncle Ezra furnished more money he tried to save it in other ways. He skimped on his table, until even Aunt Samantha, used as she was to "closeness," objected. Then Mr. Larabee announced a cut in wages at his factory, and nearly caused a strike.
But he was firm, and by reducing the pittance earned by the luckless operatives he managed to save a few hundred dollars which promptly went into the airship—that is, what Larson did not keep for himself.
But Uncle Ezra's airship was being built, which fact, when it became known, caused much comment. No one save Uncle Ezra and the lieutenant and his workmen, were allowed in the factory where the machine was being constructed. It was to be kept a secret as to the form of construction.
Meanwhile, having committed himself to becoming an aviator, Mr. Larabee began to study the methods of birdmen. He obtained several volumes (second hand, of course) on the history of navigating the air, and on the advance in the construction of aeroplanes. These he read diligently.
He could also have been observed going about, gazing up into the clouds, as though he was calculating from how great a height a man could fall with safety. In reality he imagined he was studying air currents.
Uncle Ezra Larabee was certainly acting most queerly, and his friends, or, rather, his acquaintances, for he had no real friends, did not know what to make of him. He did not give up his idea, however, not even when Larson raised his original estimate to five thousand dollars.
"Petrified polecats!" cried Uncle Ezra. "You'll bankrupt me, man!"
"Oh, no," answered Larson, with a winning smile. "This is getting off cheap. I want to increase the size of my mercury stabilizer to render the airship more safe for you when you go after that twenty thousand dollars."
"Well, I s'pose I've got to," sighed Uncle Ezra, and he made a careful note of how much had already been spent. "There's three thousand, nine hundred twenty-eight dollars and fourteen cents you've had so far," he reminded the lieutenant. "Don't be wasteful!"
"I won't," was the promise, easily given at least.
"All ready now; take her out!"
"Yes, and look out for the side wings! That doorway isn't any too wide."
"No. We'll have to cut some off, I guess!"
"Say, it's big; isn't it?"
These were the comments of Dick Hamilton and his chums as the fine, new airship, the Abaris, was wheeled out of the shed where it had been constructed. And certainly the young millionaire might be proud of his newest possession. Mr. Vardon and his men had labored well on the aeroplane.
It was rather a tight squeeze to get the big craft out of the barn doors, wide as they were, but it was successfully accomplished, and the craft now stood on a level stretch of grass, ready for her first trial flight.
Save for a few small details, and the stocking and provisioning of the craft in preparation for the trip across the continent, everything had been finished. The big motor had been successfully tested, and had developed even more power than had been expected. The propellers delivered a greater thrust on the air than was actually required to send the Abaris along.
"We'll have that for emergencies," said Dick. "Such as getting about in a hurricane, and the like."
"I hope we don't get into anything like that," remarked Mr. Vardon, "but if we do, I think we can weather it."
"How does the gyroscope stabilizer work?" asked Paul, who with Innis, had made Dick's house his home while the airship was being built.
"It does better than I expected," replied the inventor. "I was a bit doubtful, on account of having to make it so much larger than my first model, whether or not it would operate. But it does, perfectly,—at least it has in the preliminary tests. It remains to be seen whether or not it will do so when we're in the air, but I trust it will."
"At any rate, Larson hasn't had a chance to tamper with it," said Jack Butt, grimly.
"No, he hasn't been around," agreed Dick. "I wonder what has become of him?"
As yet the young millionaire knew nothing of the plans of his Uncle Ezra, for he had been too busy to visit his relatives in Dankville.
"Well, let's wheel her over to the starting ground," proposed Dick, as they stood around the airship. A level stretch had been prepared back of the barn, leading over a broad meadow, and above this the test flight would be made, as it offered many good landing places.
The airship was so large and heavy, as compared with the ordinary biplane, that a team of horses was used to pull it to the starting place. But heavy as it necessarily had to be, to allow the enclosed cabin to be carried, the young millionaire and his aviator hoped that the power of the motor would carry them aloft and keep them there.
"Go ahead!" cried Dick, as the team was hitched to the long rope made fast to the craft. "Take it easy now, we don't want an accident before we get started. Grit, come back here! This is nothing to get excited over," for the bulldog was wildly racing here and there, barking loudly. He did not understand the use of the big, queer-looking machine.
"Well, I'm just in time, I see!" exclaimed a voice from the direction of the house. Dick turned and cried:
"Hello, Larry, old man. I'm glad you got here. I was afraid you wouldn't," and he vigorously shook hands with the young reporter, who also greeted the other cadets. Grit leaped joyfully upon him, for he and Larry were great friends.
"Going to take her up, Dick?" asked Larry Dexter.
"Going to try," was the cautious answer.
"Want to take a chance?"
"I sure do! It won't be the first chance I've taken. And I may get a good story out of this. Got orders from the editor not to let anything get away from me."
"Well, I hope you have a success to report, and not a failure," remarked Paul.
"Same here," echoed Beeby.
When the airship had been hauled to the edge of the starting ground, a smooth, hard-packed, level space, inclining slightly down grade, so as to give every advantage, a careful inspection was made of every part of the craft.
As I have explained, all the vital parts of the Abaris were in the enclosed cabin, a unique feature of the airship. In that, located "amid-ships," was the big motor, the various controls, the living, sleeping and dining-rooms and storage compartments for oil, gasolene and supplies. Naturally there was no excess room, and quarters were almost as cramped as on a submarine, where every inch counts.
But there was room enough to move about, and have some comfort. On an enclosed platform back of the cabin there was more space. That was like an open deck, and those on it would be protected from the fierce rushing of the air, by means of the cabin. This cabin, I might add, was built wedge-shaped, with the small part pointing ahead, to cut down the air resistance as much as possible.
The big propellers were of course outside the cabin, and in the rear, where was located the horizontal rudder, for guiding the craft to right or left. At the rear was also an auxiliary vertical rudder, for elevating or lowering the craft. The main elevation rudder was in front, and this was of a new shape, never before used, as far as Mr. Vardon knew.
There was another feature of the Abaris that was new and one which added much to the comfort and safety of those aboard her. This had to do with the starting of the motor and the operation of the big wooden propellers.
In most aeroplanes, whether of the single or double type, the propeller, or propellers, are directly connected to the motor. In some monoplanes the motor, especially the Gnome, itself rotates, carrying the blades with it. In biplanes, such as the Burgess, Wright or Curtiss, it is the custom to operate the propellers directly from the motor, either by means of a shaft, or by sprocket chains.
But, in any case, the starting of the engine means the whirling of the propellers, for they are directly connected. This is why, when once the engine stops in mid-air, it can not be started again. Or at least if it is started it is mostly a matter of chance in getting it to go under compression or by the spark. There is no chance for the aviator to get out and whirl the propellers which are, in a measure, what a flywheel is to an automobile.
Also that is why the aviator has to be in his seat at the controls, and have some other person start his machine for him, by turning over the propeller, or propellers until the motor fires.
Lately however, especially since the talk of the flight across the Atlantic, a means has been found to allow the aviator, or some helper with him, to start the engine once it has stalled in midair. This is accomplished by means of a sprocket chain gear and a crank connected to the engine shaft. The turning handle is within reach of the aviator.
But Mr. Vardon, and Dick, working together, had evolved something better than this. Of course in their craft, with space to move about in the cabin, they had an advantage over the ordinary aviator, who, in case of engine trouble, has no place to step to to make an examination.
But Dick's engine was not directly connected to the propellers. There was a clutch arrangement, so that the motor could be started, with the propellers out of gear, and they could be "thrown in," just as an automobile is started. This gave greater flexibility, and also allowed for the reversing of the propellers to make a quick stop.
And it was not necessary for Dick to "crank" his motor. An electric self-starter did this for him, though in case of emergency the engine could be started by hand.
In fact everything aboard the Abaris was most up-to-date, and it was on this that Dick counted in winning the big prize.
"Well, I guess everything is as ready as it ever will be," remarked the young millionaire, as he and the aviator made a final inspection of the craft. "Get aboard, fellows!"
"He's as cheerful about it as though he were inviting us to a hanging," laughed Paul.
"Oh, I'm not worrying about any accident," said Dick quickly. "I'm only afraid we've made her too big and won't get any speed out of her. And speed is what's going to count in this trans-continental flight."
"She'll be speedy enough," predicted Mr. Vardon, with a confident air.
Paul, Innis, Larry and Mr. Vardon entered the cabin. Then Dick went in, followed by Jack Butt, who remained to tighten a guy wire that was not just to his satisfaction.
"Well, are we all here?" asked Dick, looking around.
"Yes," answered Paul, and there was a note of quiet apprehension in his voice. Indeed it was rather a risk they were all taking, but they had confidence in Mr. Vardon.
"Let her go," said Dick to the aviator.
"No, you have the honor of starting her, Mr. Hamilton," insisted Mr. Vardon, motioning to the electrical apparatus.
"All right! Here goes," announced the wealthy youth, as he pressed the starting handle. Everyone was on the alert, but nothing happened. The motor remained "dead."
"What's the trouble?" asked Dick.
"You've always got to turn that switch first, before you turn the starting handle," explained Jack.
"Oh, sure! How stupid of me!" cried Dick. "And I've started it in practice a score of times. Well, now, once more."
This time, when the switch had been thrown, the motor started at once with a throbbing roar. Faster and faster it rotated until the whole craft trembled. There was considerable noise, for the muffler was not fully closed. Dick wanted to warm-up the machinery first.
"That'll do!" shouted Mr. Vardon, who was watching the gage that told the number of revolutions per minute. "Throw in your clutch!"
"Now to see if she'll rise or not," murmured Dick. He pulled the lever that closed the muffler, thus cutting down, in a great measure, the throb of the motor. Then, with a look at his chums, he threw in the clutch. The great propellers began to revolve, and soon were flying around on their axles with the swiftness of light.
Slowly the Abaris moved forward along the ground.
"We're off!" cried Paul, excitedly.
"Not quite yet," answered Dick. "I want more power than we've got now."
He had it, almost in a moment, for the airship increased her speed across the slightly downward slope. Faster and faster she rolled along on the rubber-tired wheels.
"Now!", cried Dick, with his hand on the lever of the elevating rudder. "Look out for yourselves, fellows!"
He gave a backward pull. A thrill seemed to go through the whole craft. Her nose rose in the air. The forward wheels left the ground. Then the back ones tilted up.
Up shot the Abaris at an easy angle. Up and up! Higher and higher!
"We're doing it!" cried Dick, as he looked from the pilot house window to the earth fast falling below him. "Fellows, she's a success! We're going up toward the clouds!"
That Dick was proud and happy, and that Mr. Vardon and the chums of the young millionaire were pleased with the success of the airship, scarcely need be said. There was, for the first few moments, however such a thrill that scarcely any one of them could correctly analyze his feelings.
Of course each one of them had been in an aeroplane before. Mr. Vardon and his helper had made many flights, not all of them successful, and Dick and his fellow cadets had gone up quite often, though they were, as yet, only amateurs. Larry Dexter was perhaps less familiar with aeroplanes than any of them, but he seemed to take it as a matter of course.
"Say, this is great! Just great!" cried Dick, as he slipped the lever of the elevating rudder into a notch to hold it in place. He intended going up considerably higher.
"It sure is great, old man!" cried Paul. "I congratulate you."
"Oh, the praise belongs to Mr. Vardon," said Dick, modestly. "I couldn't have done anything without him."
"And if it hadn't been for your money, I couldn't have done anything," declared the aviator. "It all worked together."
"Say, how high are you going to take us?" asked Innis.
"Not getting scared, are you?" asked Dick, with a glance at the barograph, to ascertain the height above the earth. "We're only up about two thousand feet. I want to make it three." He looked at Mr. Vardon for confirmation.
"Three thousand won't be any too much," agreed the aviator. "She'll handle better at that distance, or higher. But until we give her a work out, it's best not to get too high."
The big propellers were whirling more and more rapidly as the motor warmed-up to its work. The craft was vibrating with the strain of the great power, but the vibration had been reduced to a minimum by means of special spring devices.
"Now we'll try a spiral ascent," said Dick, as he moved the lever of the horizontal rudder. The Abaris responded instantly, and began a spiral climb, which is usually the method employed by birdmen. They also generally descend in spirals, especially when volplaning.
Up and up went the big aircraft. There was a section of the cabin floor made of thick transparent celluloid, and through this a view could be had of the earth below.
"We're leaving your place behind, Dick," said Paul, as he noted the decreasing size of the home of the young millionaire.
"Well, we'll come back to it—I hope," Dick answered. "Don't you fellows want to try your hand at steering?"
"Wait until you've been at it a while, and see how it goes," suggested Innis. "We don't want to wreck the outfit."
But the Abaris seemed a stanch craft indeed, especially for an airship.
"Say, this is a heap-sight better than sitting strapped in a small seat, with the wind cutting in your face!" exclaimed Larry, as he moved about the enclosed cabin.
"It sure is mighty comfortable—the last word in aeroplaning, just as Dick's touring car was in autoing," declared Paul, who had taken a seat at a side window and was looking out at some low-lying clouds.
"All we want now is a meal, and we'll be all to the merry!" Dick exclaimed.
"A meal!" cried Larry. "Are you going to serve meals aboard here?"
"Yes, and cook 'em, too," answered the young millionaire. "Paul, show Larry where the galley is," for the reporter had not called at Hamilton Corners in some time, and on the last occasion the airship had been far from complete.
"Say, this is great!" Larry cried, as he saw the electrical appliances for cooking. "This is the limit! I'm glad I came along."
"We won't stop to cook now," said Mr. Vardon. "I want to see the various controls tested, to know if we have to make any changes. Now we'll try a few evolutions."
In order that all aboard might become familiar with the workings of the machinery, it was decided that there should be turn and turn about in the matter of steering and operating the craft. Reaching a height of three thousand feet, as Dick ascertained by the barograph, the young millionaire straightened his craft out on a level keel, and kept her there, sending her ahead, and in curves, at an increasing speed.
"There you go now, Paul," he called. "Suppose you take her for a while."
"Well, if you want an accident, just let me monkey with some of the works," laughed the jolly cadet. "I can do it to the queen's taste."
"You'll have to go out of your way, then," said Mr. Vardon. "I've arranged the controls so they are as nearly careless proof as possible. Just think a little bit about what you are going to do, and you won't have any trouble. It's a good thing for all of you to learn to manage the craft alone. So start in."
Paul found it easier than he expected, and he said, in spite of her bulk, that the Abaris really steered easier than one of the smaller biplanes they had gotten used to at Kentfield.
Back and forth over the fields, meadows and woods in the vicinity of Hamilton Corners the airship was taken, in charge of first one and then another of the party aboard. Larry Dexter was perhaps the one least familiar with the workings of the machine, yet even he did well, with Dick and Mr. Vardon at his side to coach him.
"Now we'll give the gyroscope stabilizer a test!" said Mr. Vardon, when each, including himself, had had a turn. "I want to make sure that it will stand any strain we can put on it."
"What are you going to do?" asked Dick.
"I'm going to tilt the craft suddenly at an angle that would turn her over if it were not for the stabilizer," was the answer.
Dick looked at the barograph, or height-recording gage. It registered thirty-eight hundred feet. They had gone up a considerable distance in making their experiments.
"Maybe you'd better wait," suggested the young millionaire, pointing to the hand of the dial, "until we go down a bit."
"No," decided the aviator. "If she's going to work at all she'll do it up at this distance as well, if not better, than she would five hundred, or one hundred feet, from the ground."
"But it might be safer—" began Paul.
"There won't be any danger—it will work, I'm sure of it," said Mr. Vardon, confidently.
The gyroscope which was depended on to keep the airship on a level keel at all times, or at least to bring her back to it if she were thrown to a dangerous angle, had been set in motion as soon as the start was made. The big lead wheel, with the bearings of antifriction metal, was spinning around swiftly and noiselessly. Once it had been started, a small impulse from a miniature electrical motor kept it going.
"Now," said Mr. Vardon, issuing his orders, "when I give the word I want you all suddenly to come from that side of the cabin to this side. At the same time, Dick, you will be at the steering wheel, and I want you to throw her head around as if you were making a quick turn for a spiral descent. That ought to throw her nearly on her beams' end, and we'll see how the gyroscope works. That will be a good test. I'll stand by to correct any fault in the gyroscope."
They were all a little apprehensive as they ranged themselves in line near one wall of the cabin. The airship tilted slightly as all the weight came on one side, just as a big excursion steamer lists to starboard or port when the crowd suddenly rushes all to one rail. But, on a steamer, deck hand are kept in readiness, with barrels of water, and these they roll to the opposite rail of the boat, thus preserving the balance.
Mr. Vardon depended on the gyroscope to perform a like service for the airship, and to do it automatically.
The aviator waited a few moments before giving the order to make the sudden rush. Already the apparatus to which was contrasted Lieutenant Larson's mercury tubes, had acted, and the Abaris, which had dipped, when all the passengers collected on one side, had now resumed her level keel again, showing that the gyroscope had worked so far at any rate.
"Now we'll give her a trial," called Mr. Vardon. "All ready, come over on the run, and throw her around, Dick!"
On the run they came, and Dick whirled the steering wheel around to the left, to cause the Abaris to swerve suddenly.
And swerve she did. With a sickening motion she turned as a vessel rolls in a heavy sea, and, at the same moment there was a dip toward the earth. The motor which had been humming at high speed went dead on the instant, and Dick Hamilton's airship plunged downward.
"What's the matter?"
"What happened?"
"We're falling!"
"Somebody do something!"
Everyone seemed talking at once, calling out in fear, and looking wildly about for some escape from what seemed about to be a fatal accident. For the Abaris was over half a mile high and was shooting toward the earth at a terrific rate.
"Wait! Quiet, everybody!" called Dick, who had not deserted his post at the steering wheel. "I'll bring her up. We'll volplane down! It'll be all right!"
His calmness made his chums feel more secure, and a glance at Mr. Vardon and his machinist aided in this. For the veteran aviator, after a quick inspection of the machinery, no longer looked worried.
"What has happened?" asked Innis.
"Our engine stalled, for some unknown reason," answered Mr. Vardon, quickly. "Fortunately nothing is broken. I'll see if I can't start it with the electrical generator. Are you holding her all right, Dick?"
"I think so; yes. I can take four or five minutes more to let her down easy."
"Well, take all the time you can. Head her up every once in a while. It will be good practice for you. The stabilizer worked all right, anyhow."
The airship was not on a level keel, but was inclined with her "bow" pointed to the earth, going downward on a slant. But Dick knew how to manage in this emergency, for many times he had practiced volplaning to earth in ordinary biplanes.
By working the lever of the vertical rudder, he now brought the head, or bow, of the airship up sharply, and for a moment the downward plunge was arrested. The Abaris shot along parallel to the plane of the earth's surface.
This operation, repeated until the ground is reached, is, as I have already explained, called volplaning.
"Something is wrong," announced Mr. Vardon, as he yanked on the lever of the starting motor, and turned the switch. Only the hum of the electrical machine resulted. The gasolene motor did not "pick up," though both the gasolene and spark levers were thrown over.
"Never mind," counseled Dick. "I can bring her down all right. There's really nothing more the matter than if we had purposely stopped the motor."
"No, that's so," agreed Mr. Vardon. "But still I want to see what the trouble is, and why it stopped. I'll try the hand starter."
But this was of no use either. The gasolene motor would not start, and without that the propellers could not be set in motion to sustain the big craft in the air. Mr. Vardon, and his helper, with the aid of Innis, Paul and Larry, worked hard at the motor, but it was as obstinate as the engine of some stalled motor-boat.
"I can't understand it," said the aviator.
"There's plenty of gasolene in the tank, and the spark is a good, fat one. But the motor simply won't start. How you making out, Dick?"
"All right. We're going to land a considerable distance from home, but maybe we can get her started when we reach the ground."
"We'll try, anyhow," agreed the aviator. "Is she responding all right?"
"Fine. Couldn't be better. Let some of the other boys take a hand at it."
"Well, maybe it would be a good plan," agreed the aviator. "You never can tell when you've got to make a glide. Take turns, boys."
"I don't think I'd better, until I learn how to run an airship that isn't in trouble," said Larry Dexter.
"Well, perhaps not," said Mr. Vardon. "But the others may."
Meanwhile the Abaris had been slowly nearing earth, and it was this slowness, caused by the gradual "sifting" down that would make it possible to land her with scarcely a jar.
If you have ever seen a kite come down when the wind has died out, you will understand exactly what this "sifting" is. It means gliding downward in a series of acute angles.
The first alarm over, all was now serene aboard Dick's airship. The attempt to start the motor had been given up, and under the supervision of Mr. Vardon the two cadets, Innis and Paul, took turns in bringing the craft down with the engine "dead." The aviator and his helper had had experience enough at this.
"Say, this is something new, guiding as big a ship as this without power," remarked Innis, as he relinquished the wheel to Paul.
"It sure is," said tile latter. Then, a little later, he called out:
"I say, somebody relieve me, quick. I believe I'm going to bring her down in that creek!"
They all looked ahead and downward. The Abaris, surely enough, was headed for a stream of water.
"Perhaps you'd better handle her," said Dick to the builder of the craft. "We don't want her wrecked before we at least have a START after that prize."
Mr. Vardon nodded, and took the wheel from Paul. A few seconds later he had brought the craft to the ground within a few feet of the edge of the stream. Had it been a wider and deeper one they could have landed on it by using the hydroplanes, but the water seemed too shallow and full of rocks for that evolution.
And so skillfully had Mr. Vardon manipulated the planes and levers that the landing was hardly felt. A number of specially-made springs took up the jar.
"Well, we're here!" exclaimed Dick, as they all breathed in relief. "Now to see what the trouble was."
"And we've got a long walk back home, in case we can't find the trouble," sighed Innis, for he was rather stout, and did not much enjoy walking. They had come down several miles from Hamilton Corners.
"Oh, we'll get her fixed up somehow," declared Dick, with confidence.
Quite a throng had gathered from the little country hamlet, on the edge of which the aircraft had descended, and they crowded up about the Abaris, looking in wonder at her size and strange shape.
Mr. Vardon lost no time in beginning his hunt for the engine trouble, and soon decided that it was in the gasolene supply, since, though the tank was nearly full, none of the fluid seemed to go into the carburetor.
"There's a stoppage somewhere," the aviator said. The fluid was drawn off into a reserve tank and then the cause of the mischief was easily located.
A small piece of cotton waste had gotten into the supply pipe, and completely stopped the flow of gasolene.
"There it is!" cried the aviator, as he took it out, holding it up for all to see.
"I wonder if anyone could have done that on purpose?" asked Dick, looking at his chums, reflectively.
"You mean—Larson?" inquired Jack Butt. "He's capable of anything like that."
"But he wasn't near the machine," said Paul.
"Not unless he sneaked in the barn some night," went on the machinist, who seemed to have little regard for the former lieutenant.
"Well, there's no way of telling for certain, so we had better say nothing about it," decided Dick. "Then, too, any of us might have accidentally dropped the waste in the tank while we were working around the ship. I guess we'll call it an accident."
"But it must have been in the tank for some time," argued Larry Dexter, "and yet it only stopped up the pipe a little while ago."
"It was probably floating around in the tank, doing no damage in particular," explained Mr. Vardon. "Then, when we made the ship tilt that way, to test the stabilizer, the gasolene shifted, and the waste was flushed into the pipe. But we're all right now."
This was proved a little later when the motor was started with no trouble whatever. There was not a very good place to make a start, along the edge of the stream, but Dick and his chums realized that they could not always have perfect conditions, so they must learn to do under adverse ones.
"Look out of the way!" warned the young millionaire to the assembled crowd. They scattered from in front of the craft. The motor throbbed and thundered up to high speed, and then the propellers were thrown into gear. The big blades beat on the air, the ship moved slowly forward. It acquired speed, and then, amid the wondering comments and excited shouts of the crowd, it soared aloft, and glided through the air to a great height.
"Off again!" cried Dick, who was at the wheel.
The trip back to Hamilton Corners was made safely, and without incident worthy of mention. The four young men took turns in working the various controls, so as to become familiar with them, and Dick paid particular attention to Larry Dexter, who needed some coaching.
"I'll get a good story out of this for my paper," said the young reporter, who was always on the lookout for "copy."
"Well, we've proved that she will fly, and take care of us even when an accident happens," remarked Dick, when the craft had been put back in the barn. "Now we'll groom her a bit, put on the finishing touches, and we'll be ready to try for that prize. The time is getting short now."
"I hope you win it," said Mr. Vardon. "I shall feel responsible, in a way, if you don't."
"Nothing of the sort!" cried Dick. "Whatever happens, I've got a fine airship, and we'll have a good time, even if we don't get the twenty thousand dollars."
The next week was a busy one, for there were several little matters about the airship that needed attention. But gradually it was made as nearly perfect as possible.
Then, one morning, Mr. Hamilton, who had some business to transact with Uncle Ezra, said to Dick:
"Could you take a run over there and leave him these securities? He asked me to get them for him out of the safe deposit box. I don't know what he wants of them, but they are his, and I have no time to take them to him myself. You can go in your airship, if you like, and give him a surprise."
"No, I think I'll go in the auto. Mr. Vardon is making a change in the motor, and it isn't in shape to run today. I'll take the boys over to Dankville in the small car."
A little later Dick and his chums were on their way to Uncle Ezra's. They reached Dankville in good time, but, on calling at the house, Aunt Samantha told them her husband was at the woolen mill.
"We'll go down there and see him," decided Dick, after talking to his aunt a little while. She had been looking in the parlor to see that, by no chance, had a glint of light gotten in. Of late her husband and his airship-partner, Larson, had not used the "best room," and so Aunt Samantha's fears about the carpet being spoiled by cigar ashes had subsided.
At the factory Dick was directed, by a foreman, to an unused wing of the building.
"You'll find your uncle in there," the man said to Dick. "He's building an airship!"
"A what!" cried the young millionaire in great astonishment, for he had been too busy, of late, to hear any news from Dankville.
"An airship—a biplane, I believe they're called," the foreman went on.
"Well, I'll be gum-swizzled!" cried Dick, faintly. "Come on, fellows. The world must be coming to an end, surely."
As he started to enter the part of the factory whither he had been directed, his uncle, plainly much excited, came out.
"Stop where you be, Nephew Richard!" he warned. "Don't come in here! Stay back!"
"Why, what in the world is the matter?" asked Dick. "Is something going to blow up?"