CHAPTER XIFORCED DOWN
“What’sthe matter?” asked Tom, with a smile, as he beheld Ned’s amazement.
“I thought the bottom was dropping out of the machine!” gasped the financial manager of the Swift concern.
“Just a plate glass window in the floor,” Tom explained, with a chuckle. “It enables us to take a look below without sticking our heads out of the windows and looking over the side. Yes, that’s the old Atlantic there,” and he pointed to the heaving, foam-tipped waves that were lazily surging far down beneath them.
TheAir Monarchwas now well up and moving eastward at fast speed. As the motors warmed up, Peltok fed them more and more gasoline until they were approaching their maximum.
Meanwhile Brinkley and Hartman were going about adjusting bearings, putting oil where it was needed, and doing general work. Being a new machine, theAir Monarchneeded more oil than a craft that had been run some time and whose bearings would have been worn to smoothness.
“Well, we’re on our way,” remarked Tom, as he moved about the cabin looking at the indicators, noting the speed, and having a general eye to the performance of his newest and pet craft. “We’re on our way, and in less than three weeks, if we have luck, we’ll be right back where we started.”
“Do you think you can do it?” asked Ned.
Tom did not answer for a moment. Then, with a serious look on his face, he said:
“It’s taking a big chance, Ned. Twenty days is a very short time to circle the world. I know we talk about aeroplanes that do two hundred and fifty miles an hour. And if one could keep that up for a hundred hours the trick would be pulled off in about four days. But no machine made can keep that speed up constantly. Not enough gasoline or oil could be carried for a continuous flight of that kind. A man would have to come down several times to replenish.
“Of course the hundred thousand dollar prize offer doesn’t specify that the world must be circled in twenty days. If it takes thirty days to do it, the one who gets under the wire first, having used up less time than any of the others, will win. But there’s dad’s bet of twenty thousand with Mr. Burch and Mr. Trace. That specifies twenty days.”
“Evidently they don’t think you have much of a chance, Tom,” said Ned. “They didn’t even come to Long Island to see you start.”
“No, they weren’t there. And I guess they think they have dad’s money won. But though they couldn’t be there, they were sports enough to wish me good luck in a telegram. It came just before we took off. But I don’t really believe they think their money is in danger. I’m going to do my best, though, to win for dad’s sake and my own. That hundred thousand will come in very useful, Ned.”
“I’ll say it will! You’ve been spending a lot lately, and you owe Mr. Jacks fifteen thousand.”
“We’ll pay him!” Tom said with a determined air. “We’ll be on easy street if I can flash home a winner. And she’s running mighty sweet now,” he added, as he listened to the purr and hum of the motors and the throb of the propellers.
A look around them showed no other contesting aircraft in sight. But that did not mean none were racing them for the prize. TheRed Arrowmight be close by, hidden from them in the mist. Below them were several motor boats and a steamer or two, and whether or not any of these were the craft trying for the prize Tom Swift did not know.
“Do you think Kilborn and his crowd will make any trouble for you?” asked Ned when he and Tom were sitting at ease, lulled by the speedy, even motion of their craft.
“I think they’ll try,” was the answer. “They’re desperate, for some reason or other. One is that they want to beat me, of course. Another is that there has been for some time a trade rivalry between us. As you know, I’ve been making aeroplanes for a concern and Kilborn and his crowd are trying to get the business away from me. If I win this international race it will be a big feather in my cap. The Swift aeroplanes will get a big advertisement out of it.”
“I see,” murmured Ned.
Brinkley appeared in the doorway of the room where Tom and Ned were sitting. There was a grin on the face of the former tank man.
“What is it?” asked Tom.
“Come and get it!” answered the other.
“Grub ready so soon?” asked Ned, who recognized the cook’s method of summoning them to eat.
“Grub is ready,” repeated Brinkley.
“Time went mighty fast,” Tom said. “I forgot all about cooking or eating. We really didn’t settle on who was to be cook.”
“Well, Joe sort of wished it onto me,” went on Brinkley, with another grin. “I had a hand in it when I was running a tank over on the other side,” he went on, “and if you want me to, I’ll keep at it.”
“I’ll tell you better after I eat this grub you say is ready,” laughed Tom.
“That’s a fair proposition,” admitted Brinkley. “Well, anyhow, it’s ready. You two can eat and Joe and I will take a shot at the grub later.”
“Yes,” assented Tom. “Somebody’s got to run the ship.”
They went out to the little dining apartment, and appetizing odors greeted the noses of Tom and Ned. They sniffed hungrily and soon were doing full justice to the meal.
“You’re elected, Brinkley!” cried Tom when half way through the menu.
“Second the motion!” echoed Ned, who was also doing his full share with knife and fork.
Cooking aboard theAir Monarchwas done on a gasoline stove. Since no hydrogen gas was carried, as is the case in most dirigibles and balloons that cannot get helium, there was no danger of any explosion from an open flame.
There was plenty of food on board, and Tom planned to buy more whenever a landing was made. He knew he would have to land several times along the world-circling route to enable gasoline, oil and other supplies to be taken aboard.
The meal was nearly over and Tom was calculating how far they had come and what speed they had made so far, while Ned was debating with himself whether he could eat another slice of boiled ham, when there came a series of loud noises from the motor compartment back of the dining salon.
“What’s that?” cried Tom starting up.
“One of the main bearings has burned out!” exclaimed Hartman. “Oil feed failed. The bearing’s red-hot!”
At the same moment the craft began to lose speed. Ned felt her being forced down, for when it does not move fast enough to overcome the pull of gravity, an aeroplane must fall. Slower and slower moved theAir Monarch, and lower and lower she sank toward the heaving surface of the Atlantic.
CHAPTER XIITHE HURRICANE
“What’sgoing to happen, Tom?” asked Ned as he saw his chum leap toward the motor room. “Are we in danger?”
“In danger of losing time on account of a hot bearing, yes,” admitted Tom. “But in no danger as far as being forced down is concerned. I had planned for this—a landing in the sea.”
“Our boat-like body will keep us afloat,” explained Brinkley to Ned, whose strong point was certainly not mechanics, but finance. “You know we’re a hydroplane as well as an aeroplane.”
“I had forgotten it for a moment,” admitted Tom’s chum.
The first alarm over, he watched Tom and the three mechanics so manipulate theAir Monarchas to bring her out of the partial nose dive into which she had fallen on losing speed. She was now coming down to the sea on a gentle slant.
“I don’t like nose dives!” murmured Tom, remembering the peril which he and Mary had so narrowly escaped from with the help of Brinkley and Hartman.
“We’ll make a three point landing,” observed Peltok as Tom, taking charge, began to guide his craft toward the waves which Ned could see, through the plate glass bottom in the cabin, rushing, as it were, up to meet them.
Not quite as gently as a feather, but with hardly enough of a jar to spill the water in the glasses on the table which Tom and Ned had quit in such a hurry, theAir Monarchsank to the surface of the sea where she rode easily under the influence of a gentle swell.
“Are we going to stay here?” Ned asked, when he found that the craft was making no forward progress.
“Not any longer than we can help,” Tom answered. “Every minute counts when you’re trying to circle the globe in twenty days. But we’ll have to wait for that bearing to cool. Did she chew up the metal?” he asked Peltok, referring to the soft anti-friction lining material which the axle, or shaft, of any fast-moving machine comes in contact with instead of directly on the bearing itself.
“I’m afraid so,” was the answer. “But I can cast a new journal for you.”
“Good!” exclaimed Tom. “You three had better get something to eat,” he added to Brinkley and the others. “Ned and I will stand watch. Not that there’s anything we can do until she cools down, though,” he added, with a rueful laugh.
Since the machinists had had nothing to eat since early in the morning, before the take-off, they did ample justice to the meal the tank man had gotten ready.
Meanwhile, Tom and Ned went to the engine room to examine the damage. TheAir Monarchwas gently rising and falling on a long swell. Just where they had come down Tom did not know, without taking a marine observation, but he judged it to be perhaps four or five hundred miles off the Atlantic coast—not a bad bit of distance to have covered in this time. But of course he realized he would have to do much better than this to win the race.
It did not take Tom long to find the overheated bearing. It had become red-hot from lack of oil, which was supposed to be fed to it constantly, but it was now cooling down and when it was completely cool the burned anti-friction metal could be cut out and new put in.
“There’s what did the damage!” exclaimed Tom as he unscrewed the coupling of a small copper oil feed pipe and took out a little ball of what seemed to be rubber. “That kept the oil from cooling the bearing.”
“Do you think theRed Arrowimps had anything to do with that?” asked Ned.
“It’s possible, of course,” Tom replied. “But hardly probable. This isn’t one of the main bearings, and the oil feed pipe would be hard to get at to tinker with. Hussy and that fellow we caught in the hangar night before last didn’t have time to unscrew the coupling, slip in the rubber, and then put it together again. And it was all right when we started.
“What I think is that this bit of rubber came from a gasket—it just naturally worked loose and was forced into the pipe. I use a forced feed oil system. It’s just one of those accidents that will happen. Lucky it wasn’t any worse.”
“Have we got to lay to like this until the bearing is fixed?”
“No,” Tom said, after looking over the motors. “We can taxi along on the surface with one motor, but of course not as fast as if the two were working. However, it will help some, and every mile and minute count. Whew, she certainly got hot!” he exclaimed, as he burned himself slightly from putting his hand for too long a period on the defective bearing.
The three machinists were so eager to make repairs and hop off again that they hurried through their dinner and were soon in the motor room again. There Peltok proved his worth, as did Hartman and Brinkley. They wasted no time, but began taking down the motor.
While the aeroplane man and his tank companion did this, Peltok was busy casting a new bearing, filing it down to a perfect fit so the axle would run smoothly.
“Will it bother you if I start up with one motor?” asked Tom of the three who were working at top speed to finish the repairs in the shortest possible time.
“Not a bit!” Peltok answered. “You can’t go very fast with only one motor running, and she’ll ride on a pretty even keel, for there is scarcely any sea at all—it’s almost a dead calm.”
“But it isn’t going to remain so long,” stated Ned, who knew a little of weather signs.
“Why not?” asked Tom.
“The glass is falling,” and Ned pointed to the barometer. “I think we’re in for a storm.”
“It does look so,” remarked Tom, who noted the reading now and compared it with the height of the mercury column when they had started. “I guess we’re in for a blow. It will be better to take it up above than down here.”
“We’ll finish this as soon as we can,” said Peltok, but there was no occasion to say that. Tom and Ned could see that the three were doing their best.
So, having learned that he would not disturb them by sending his craft along, the young inventor started the undamaged motor and soon theAir Monarchwas moving at fairly rapid speed over the surface of the calm sea. Tom steered by a binnacle compass, heading due east, and knew that every mile he gained was so much to the good.
With the other motor in commission, he knew he could more than double the present speed. But his main reliance was going to be travel in the air, for that was his speediest medium.
After about an hour, during which the craft had sped along for several miles over the sea, they ran into a thick fog, which seemed another indication of a change in the weather.
“Got a fog horn?” asked Ned, as he stood beside Tom in the motor control cabin.
“What for?”
“To signal so we won’t run into any ships.”
“I guess we won’t be down on the sea much longer,” Tom said, for he had asked Ned to take the wheel while he went back to note what progress the three mechanics were making. “They have almost finished. We’ll be going up directly.”
“Glad of it,” remarked Ned. “I don’t like it down here—not in a fog.”
“There’s no danger,” began Tom, with a laugh. “I’ll take a chance——”
He was interrupted by a heavy, throbbing noise in the air over their heads. The fog was too thick to enable them to see what it was, but Ned cried:
“Wind!”
“Of a sort—yes!” admitted Tom. “But it’s wind from the propellers of some sort of an aeroplane! There’s a craft passing overhead.”
When Ned listened more carefully he knew this to be right. Some big dirigible or aeroplane was passing above them, and the throb of her motors and the beat of her propellers could plainly be heard.
“Think that might be theRed Arrowpassing us?” asked Ned.
“It’s possible,” Tom admitted. “She’s got powerful motors.”
They looked upward, trying to pierce the fog, and a moment later the wind began to blow, tearing the blanket of vapor apart. It was just in time for Tom and Ned to see, high up, a great craft heading toward the east. But whether it was theRed Arrowor some other machine they could not tell. It seemed likely that it was one which was racing against Tom for the world circuit prize.
Then the fog drifted in again and there was a wall of white all about them. Ned looked at the glass once more and found that it was still dropping. As he took this in he gave a low whistle.
“It’s going to blow and blow soon,” he said to Tom. “How much longer are we going to be here?”
“Not much longer, I hope,” answered the young inventor a bit impatiently. The sight of that big craft passing overhead had made him apprehensive. “I’ll go and find out. Keep her on this course, Ned,” and he turned the steering wheel over to his chum.
Hardly had Tom gone back to the motor room than the voice of Peltok was heard exclaiming:
“She’s done! The bearing is finished. Now we can use the other engine!”
This was good news, and a few minutes later, when it was made certain that the oil feed system was working properly, the second motor was started and theAir Monarchbegan to gather speed.
“We’ll be up in a minute,” Tom said, taking the wheel from Ned. Hardly had he spoken than as if a giant’s breath had blown it away, the fog vanished and out of the west rushed a wind of great force. It caught the craft broadside on and heeled her over so far that she was in danger of capsizing. But Tom speeded up the starboard motor and pulled the machine around just in time.
“Go on up!” yelled Peltok. “There’s a hurricane coming! Go on up!”
“Up she is!” echoed Tom Swift. With a motion of his hand he turned more gasoline into the motors and they roared out as if eager to do their work. TheAir Monarchsurged forward over the surface of the sea, gathering speed to enable her to lift herself into the air.
Just as Tom was about to pull the lever of the rear elevating rudder planes, the hurricane burst with all its force around the craft, twirling her about, howling through the struts and wire stays like ten thousand demons and sending a shower of spray clear over the top wings.
“We’re in for it now!” yelled Tom, as he headed the craft up on a long slant.
CHAPTER XIIIA CLOSE CALL
Doubtfulit was, for what seemed a long time, whether or not theAir Monarchwould justify her name and rise from the water. She seemed held fast to the surface of the sea along which the craft was being driven by the force of her propellers whirled by the two powerful motors, now both working well.
“Will she make it, Tom?” cried Ned, above the roar and howl of the hurricane which seemed bent on destroying the globe-circling craft.
“Can’t tell yet,” was the grim answer. “We’re just about holding our own and no more!”
Tom had headed his craft into the very teeth of the strong wind, for this is the proper way in which to make an aeroplane rise. If the pilot should try to rise with the wind the chances are that his ship’s tail would flip up and he’d find himself standing on his head with the nose of the machine buried deep in the earth.
But such was the power of the wind, and such its peculiar downward pressing force that, for a time, it seemed that the ship would not rise. She seemed held down as by a giant’s hands.
“We’ve got to get up more speed!” yelled Tom to those in the motor room.
“I’m giving her all the gas she’ll take!” shouted Peltok.
“Turn on the super-charger!” the young inventor directed. “If ever we needed that high-test gas of mine we need it now!”
He referred to the new gasoline he had been experimenting on when he had to leap through the window of his shop to avoid being blown up.
“That ought to do the trick!” exclaimed Hartman, who had seen some demonstrations of the new fuel.
“Turn it on,” cried Tom again, and his mechanics made haste to carry out this order.
Meanwhile the hurricane was increasing in violence. The wind howled as if in rage that any man-made craft should try to fight it. The sea, too, was whipped into salty spray and the waves were rapidly becoming larger and more dangerous. Two or three times water sprayed all the way over theAir Monarch, and when Ned discovered that some was entering the interior of the ship through an open window he hastened to close it.
“All ready, Chief!” called Brinkley, addressing Tom Swift. “Here goes for the super-charger!”
“If she doesn’t rise now she never will!” murmured Tom as he yanked the throttle around to turn on full power with the new fuel, a tank of which had been hastily connected with the carburetor.
If the motors had hummed and purred before, they fairly roared now with this new form of gas, and Tom exulted in his heart.
“It wouldn’t do to use that all the while, though,” he said to himself. “It would rack the engines to pieces. But it’s good to have in an emergency. Now let’s see if we can take off.”
The craft was now skimming the surface of the sea at a greater speed than she had ever before attained on water. Tom pulled the throttle back another notch, advanced his sparking system a trifle, and then pulled the handle that tilted the tail rudder. Until this was done theAir Monarchwould sail along on an even keel. But with the back rudder tilted so that a current of air would strike on the lower surface, the effect would be to elevate the nose of the ship and send it up into the air on a long slant.
“I hope she’ll work,” Tom told himself, as he pulled the lever.
There came another burst of wind, and now it began to rain in a torrent, while lightning flashed from the cloud-obscured sky and the deep booming of thunder seemed to shake the craft from stem to stern.
The machine quivered. It seemed to be a struggle between the elements of air and water as to which should claim her, but in the end the air won.
“We’re rising!” cried Ned, who stood behind Tom. But the young inventor had already noted on the altitude gage that the machine was leaving the sea and going up.
“Not much too soon, either!” muttered Peltok, who stood with the two machinists in the motor room where another gage showed them that the fight was being won.
“We’re all right now,” said Tom with an air of relief as he guided his craft on a long slant up through the wind, the rain, the lightning and thunder. “We’re all right now.”
The engines were still rotating furiously under the power of the new gas, and Tom kept them at this speed until he was well up above the surface of the sea. Then, turning the craft about, to take advantage of the wind, instead of heading into it, he ordered the ordinary motor fuel gasoline turned on and slowed down his ship.
Slowed down, yes, but theAir Monarchwas still moving along at a terrific speed. And Tom knew that speed was necessary, for he had lost considerable time. He had counted on some delays, but the fewer of these there were the better. And Tom preferred to have them come, if they must, when he was back again on United States soil. For if theAir Monarchfailed him then, he could use his Airline Express.
Up, up and up soared the powerful craft, boring her way through the storm. Now she was where she properly belonged, for though Tom’s craft could travel on land or water she was designed, primarily, for the air.
“Going above the storm, Tom?” asked Ned when things were more nearly normal aboard.
“Going to try,” was the answer. “But there’s a big area of disturbance, I think.”
So it proved. For it took an hour of hard work before Tom could force his machine to climb high enough to be above the howling wind and rattling rain. But then theAir Monarchfound herself in a calm atmosphere, above the clouds with the sun shining, and in that peaceful region, far away from the hurricane and the lashing sea, she sailed along on her journey.
“Well, she came out of that pretty well,” remarked the young inventor as he turned the wheel over to Peltok while he went with Ned to work out their position. Ned was good at figures, and intricate calculations were necessary to determine how many miles had been traveled in the machine.
“She done noble, as Eradicate would say,” agreed Ned. “But it’s getting on toward dark, Tom,” he observed, as he noted the position of the sun.
“That’s right. It will soon be night. But I think we can still travel on.”
“About where do you guess we are?”
“About half-way across the Atlantic, I think. But we’ve got to work it out. We lost considerable by being forced down.”
When the observations had been made and the computation completed it was found that Tom was a little off—that about twelve hundred miles had been covered in the twelve hours since the start. But this was very good, considering the time lost, and Tom felt that the first day, or rather, the first half day, was a successful one.
As evening came on, supper was got ready and served several miles high in the air. But eating thus was no longer a novelty to Tom and Ned. They had done it too often on other daring cruises.
They had been blown somewhat off their course by the hurricane, but managed to get back on it when the stars began to appear and then, the night watches having been arranged, theAir Monarchwas driven along through the darkness. There was little danger in thus traveling at night unless some accident should befall the craft itself. Though a number of air machines had started in the great race, Tom had no fear of colliding with them.
“I think theRed Arrowis ahead of us, though,” he said to his chum as they made ready to turn in for a sleep.
“It doesn’t seem to worry you.”
“What’s the use of worrying? The race has hardly begun yet. I’m satisfied.”
Through the hours of darkness the craft was driven on, the five taking turns in steering, even Ned being able to keep on the course by means of observing several compasses, though he did not attempt to regulate the motors, which, however, were practically automatic once they were started.
A rosy tint in the east apprised Tom and his friends that the sun was rising and that morning was at hand. It was the second day of the great race, and a hasty calculation, while Brinkley was preparing breakfast, told Tom that they were approaching the coast of Spain.
A few hours later Ned, taking an observation, exclaimed:
“There’s some sort of a big harbor down there. Might be a good place to land, Tom, since you say we’ve about crossed the Atlantic. What place do you think that is?”
“Lisbon, Portugal!” exclaimed Peltok. “I know it. I have been there many times. It is a good place to land!”
“Then we’ll go down!” decided Tom. “We’ll get oil and gas. We’ve done pretty well to cross the Atlantic in about twenty-four hours. But that doesn’t mean we can always make as good time as that.”
Amid screams from the whistles of steamers in the Lisbon harbor, the big craft slowly settled down, Tom, who was steering, picking out a clear space in which to anchor.
Like a great bird, theAir Monarchdropped into the peaceful waters and slowly came to a stop. At once there were signs of activity on all the vessels within sight while the wharves alongshore became black with a mass of humanity drawn by the news of the arrival of the strange craft.
“Seems as if they were expecting us,” observed Ned.
“Shouldn’t wonder,” agreed Tom. “This world race has attracted a lot of attention.”
“Do you think any of the other contestants are here, or have been here and gone?” went on Ned.
“We’ll soon find out,” his chum answered.
Suddenly Hartman uttered a cry and pointed upward. There, hovering above them, was a great craft, painted red—a hydroplane—and it seemed to be steering straight for them.
“TheRed Arrow!” cried Tom. “We were ahead of him after all!”
“But he’s going to land on top of us!” cried Ned. “Look out! Keep off!” he yelled.
TheRed Arrowcame down swiftly, and it was a close call for theAir Monarchas Kilborn’s craft landed, skimmed over the water, and came within a few feet of crashing into Tom’s craft.
CHAPTER XIVWHIZZING BULLETS
Hardlyhad theRed Arrowstopped, some of her men coming out of the cabin to drop a light anchor, than Tom ran to the prow of his craft, where there was a little landing stage. Seeing Kilborn tantalizingly smiling at him, the young inventor cried:
“What do you mean by that?”
“Mean by what?” sneered the pilot of the rival plane.
“By landing so close to me that you nearly grazed my wing tips? Don’t you know how to make a landing yet? Seems to me there was room enough for even an amateur!”
Kilborn’s face turned an angry red at hearing this taunt.
“I know as much about running a bus as you do!” he retorted.
“You don’t seem to!” fired back Tom. “After this you keep your distance!”
“Aw, you don’t know what you’re talking about!” sneered Kilborn.
“Don’t I?” retorted Tom. “Well I think I do! And, what’s more, I have a strong suspicion that you wouldn’t have cared much if you had crashed into me. It would have given you a chance to take off ahead of me. But you didn’t pull your trick, did you?”
“I wasn’t trying any trick!” snapped Kilborn. “And if you accuse me of——”
“I’m not exactly accusing you,” broke in the young inventor. “But I have my suspicions and I’m going to watch you. Don’t forget that your tool Hussy and the fellow with him are still in jail!”
“I don’t know anything about Hussy!” stormed the owner of theRed Arrow.
“I think you do,” was Tom’s reply. “But keep away from me and my machine—that’s all I ask. I can beat you in a fair race, and I don’t want any dirty work, nor will I stand for it!”
Tom turned and went back in his ship. The talk was in English of course, and few of the Portuguese who had gathered about to view the strange craft knew what it was about.
“He sure tried to foul you,” declared Ned when his chum had rejoined him. “He had plenty of room to land clear.”
“More than he needed,” agreed Peltok. “That man will bear watching, Mr. Swift!”
“And we’ll watch him!” replied Tom.
“Here come a couple more of the contestants, I guess,” called Hartman as he pointed upward, where two specks, like big birds, were observed in the sky.
“Either that, or it’s a welcoming delegation of Portuguese airmen,” suggested Tom.
But the first surmise proved correct, and a little later two big hydroplanes, one piloted by Jed Kimball and the other by Harry Walton, whom Tom knew slightly, settled down in Lisbon harbor.
This harbor, while not an official landing, since the race was a go-as-you-please one, was the objective of most of the contestants who flew eastward in aircraft. Some were not able to cross the Atlantic in one hop, and were obliged to stop at the Azores. But the bigger machines, including Tom’s, theRed Arrow, and the two to arrive later, carried fuel enough for the longer journey.
“They’re making almost as good time as you made, Tom,” remarked Ned when informal greetings had been exchanged with the two latest arrivals. “Doesn’t that mean they’ll give you a hard rub?”
“You forget, Ned,” said the inventor, “that we were forced down by a hot bearing and lost a lot of time. Even with that, we beat the other three. If we did that, bucking the hurricane as we did, it shows we are a lot speedier than they are, unless they, too, were delayed. We must find out about that, but we’ll have to be diplomatic. No use letting them know just how speedy we are.”
While oil and gas, together with some more food and other supplies, were being taken aboard all four of the competing craft, Tom signaled a small boat and visited Jed Kimball.
“Run into any bad weather on the way over?” Tom asked casually.
“Not a bit,” was the answer. “Had smooth sailing all the time. And so did Walton. He and I were close together on the way over.”
Tom’s heart rejoiced at this. It meant that the other craft had pushed their engines to the limit and had been traveling steadily in clear air, only to arrive after he did.
“And we lost considerable time,” said Tom to Ned when he was back on board theAir Monarch. “That means we have a lot the best of them. The only one I’m in doubt of is theRed Arrow. I’m not friendly enough with Kilborn to ask him if he had any delays. If he did, and yet came in soon after us, it means he is pretty nearly as fast as we are. But if he came right along without a stop, it means we’ve got him beat.”
“Let’s see if Brinkley or Hartman can’t pick up a bit of information,” suggested Ned. “They’re going ashore for a half hour, and I notice some of theRed Arrow’screw also going to take shore leave.”
“That might be a good way,” agreed Tom, and he instructed the two mechanics to get into casual conversation, if they could, with the men from Kilborn’s craft, but, at the same time, not to give a hint of their own speed.
Hartman and Brinkley managed to get friendly with some mechanics from theRed Arrow, but the information they secured was not the most reassuring to Tom. It developed that his most formidable rival had also been delayed by the hurricane, though not forced down, being, however, blown far off the course.
“Then since he arrived about the time we did,” said Tom, talking the matter over with Ned, “it means that he’s going almost as fast as we are. I’m afraid we’re going to have trouble with Kilborn.”
“Do you really think he has a chance to beat you?”
“He has a good chance. The only thing is that if he gets disabled so he can’t travel in the air, he can’t do very much on the water and nothing at all on land. I might have him there. But it’s only a chance. We’ve got our work cut out for us, Ned!”
“Well, then, the sooner we get away from here the better!” suggested the financial manager, and his chum agreed with him.
The work of taking on the gas, oil and other supplies was hastened, and at last theAir Monarchwas again ready to hop off. The mechanics had gone carefully over every part of the motors, and they were tuned up to the highest notch of efficiency.
“Well, let’s go!” called Tom when, about three hours after landing in the Lisbon harbor, they were ready to leave again.
The motors roared as the gas was turned on when the starters had turned the flywheels over, and Tom was about to guide his craft down a long, wide lane of water in the bay when Ned exclaimed:
“There goes theRed Arrow!”
Tom turned to see the rival craft making ready to take off, and then he suddenly shut down the motors and let his craft come to a slow stop while the other increased her speed and was ready to take the air.
“What’s the idea?” cried Ned. “Has anything happened?”
“No. But something might if I tried to take off just when Kilborn did,” said Tom quietly. “There’s too much chance of a collision—planned or accidental. Let him get up—I’ll follow. I can do as I please then. Let him go!”
It was evident that theRed Arrowhad been waiting for theAir Monarchto lead the way, for just as soon as Tom started the other craft had followed, and when Tom shut down it appeared to puzzle Kilborn and his men. However, they must have imagined that it was only a temporary halt, for they roared on their way, finally leaping into the air from a foam-crested wave and speeding off ahead of Tom Swift.
“Let him go!” the young inventor said. “I can pass him when I need to. But I want a clear field.”
A few minutes later Tom started his motors again, and his craft was in the air shortly before the other two hydroplanes took off. But by this time theRed Arrowwas only a speck in the sky.
“Hope he won’t get too far ahead!” mused Ned.
“I’m not worrying,” declared Tom Swift.
Up and up soared theAir Monarchand when she was high enough Tom straightened her out and sent her ahead on an eastern course, steering over Spain, the Mediterranean Sea, the lower part of Italy, and, in turn, across Turkey.
It was when sailing rather low over a wooded section of this latter country that something happened which showed Tom how dangerous his trip might be.
He, with Ned, was leaning out of the window of the forward cabin looking down below and trying to figure out just where they were when Ned called:
“Look at the horsemen!”
Below them was a squad of Turks riding along and seemingly much excited by the airship over them. The motors, though muffled, were making too much noise for Tom and Ned to hear what the horsemen were shouting, but their actions were plainly discernible.
Suddenly some of them brought their guns around and aimed up at the airship.
“Look out!” cried Ned. “They’re going to shoot!”
“Let them!” chuckled Tom. “They must be uncivilized fellows who have never seen or heard of an aeroplane before. They can’t hit us up here!”
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” warned Ned. “Better go a bit higher.”
“But I want to see what river that is we’re coming to,” Tom said. “I need to be low down to make an observation.”
He had hardly ceased speaking when several puffs of smoke came from the horsemen below, and though the reports of the rifles could scarcely be heard, there was no doubt as to the firing.
“Duck!” yelled Ned as he caught the hum of whizzing bullets.
Suddenly he saw Tom give a start and fall back from the window.
“He’s hit!” cried Ned, springing to his chum’s side as he yelled to Peltok, who was at the wheel: “Go up! Go up! We’re being fired on!”
CHAPTER XVYELLOW GYPSIES
Rapidly, as soon as Peltok pulled the elevating lever, the machine shot upward and was quickly beyond rifle distance, though the last glimpse Ned had of the mounted hunters they were still firing at the aircraft.
But Ned had other thoughts than those of the men who, through fear or anger, had fired on theAir Monarch. He had seen Tom start back, wince, and disappear from the window.
“Are you hit, Tom?” Ned yelled, as he drew in his head and had a glimpse of his chum swaying in the middle of the forward cabin. “Did they get you?”
As if in a daze Tom put his hand to his head and took off his cap. There was a queer look on his face as he looked at a neat, round hole through the cap’s visor, close to where it set on his head.
“They missed you!” Ned joyfully cried when he saw this. “But it was a narrow squeak, Tom!”
Holding the punctured cap in his left hand, Tom put his right hand to his head and when he brought his fingers down there was a little smear of blood on them.
“You’re hit—after all!” gasped Ned.
“No, just a graze,” and Tom found his voice for the first time since the shooting. “It was a close call,” he went on. “It fairly had me going for a moment or two. That bullet must have creased me, Ned. It skimmed right past my head. Yes, I was creased.”
This is a term used by Westerners to indicate that a bullet grazes a man or an animal. The effect, while not serious, is to render the victim incapable of speech or action for a short time. Often wild horses are subdued in that way. Needless to say, it takes a sure shot to “crease” a beast and not send the bullet deep enough to kill. In the case of the hunters firing from below on the airship it was undoubtedly accidental.
“It was just a graze,” declared Tom again, and an examination showed this to be the case. The bullet had buried itself in the upper part of the window frame after piercing Tom’s cap and drawing a little blood. The wound was treated with an antiseptic solution, and then, feeling more like himself, Tom prepared to ascertain their position.
They had soon left the hunters behind, and doubtless those wild riders had a strange tale to tell around the campfire that night.
By calculating their speed and distance and by identifying certain landmarks, Tom made, certain that they were over Turkey—and the wilder part of that country.
“Well, I think we’re keeping up to our schedule,” Tom said that noon as they were cruising along and he and Peltok and Ned were eating an appetizing meal. “So far we have had very good luck, even getting out of the hurricane and over the hot bearing without falling back much. If this keeps up I’ll be well within my margin of twenty days.”
“The race isn’t over yet,” said Peltok, who was an experienced aeroplane man. “Wait until we run into some real trouble.”
“We’ll strike it, of course,” admitted Tom. “Couldn’t expect not to on a trip like this. But the longer it holds off the better we’ll be.”
“Hope there aren’t any other wild tribes that are going to take pot shots at us,” remarked Ned.
“There aren’t likely to be,” said Peltok who knew this part of the country quite well. “This was some wild tribe, I suppose, that lived in a mountain fastness, or some wild wooded place, and they had never heard of an airship before.”
TheAir Monarchwas now running along very easily. The motors were beginning to “find” themselves, the rough spots were wearing down smooth and, as Tom said, the craft was operating like a sewing machine, which seems to be the standard in cases of this sort.
For the first time since leaving the Long Island field, Tom and Ned felt the relief from nervous strain and began to take matters a little easier.
“Guess I’ll write some messages home,” decided Tom in the afternoon, when he and Ned sat together in the main cabin.
“It wouldn’t be a bad idea,” agreed the other. “I suppose you’ll put the letters out in front for the mail plane to pick up,” he added, and there was that in his voice which caused Tom to explain:
“Don’t you think I mean it?”
“How in the world are you going to get any dispatches off home from up here? We haven’t got a powerful enough wireless to do it—you said that yourself the other day—and——”
“Go slow!” advised Tom, with a chuckle. “This is easy. I’ll write some messages—telegrams to be more exact—and you can, too, if you like. We’ll enclose them in some tubes I had made for the purpose and drop them when we pass near some city and see a crowd out watching us. With the messages I’ll include a request that they be sent off, and I’ll put in some money to pay the toll and also to reward the person who attends to the matter.”
“Oh!” exclaimed Ned. “I didn’t think of that! Guess I’ll write to Helen Morton.”
He took it for granted that Tom was going to wire Mary Nestor that, so far, everything was lovely. This Tom did, also writing brief words of greeting to his father, Mr. Damon, and some few others.
These messages were enclosed in strong but light tubes and when the airship passed over the next town, flying low so the crowds could be observed, the messages were dropped. Before theAir Monarchflew on, Tom and Ned saw a rush to pick up the tubes, and they felt sure word of their progress would soon be ticking on its way.
It was toward the close of the afternoon that Ned went into the engine room and was surprised to see Hartman and Brinkley standing together near one of the thermometers connected with the water cooling system of the motors. Like an automobile engine, the machinery of some airships must be cooled by water circulating around the cylinder walls. As Ned came upon the two mechanics, he saw Brinkley pointing to the red indicating column which was higher than usual.
“Anything wrong?” asked Ned, as he saw the two talking.
“This motor is heating up more than I like to see,” stated Brinkley.
“Shall I call Tom?” asked Ned.
“Oh, no. Not yet,” was the reply.
“Maybe the water is low in the radiator,” suggested Hartman. “Let’s take a look. Yes, that’s it,” he went on a moment later. “It needs filling.”
As Ned walked on, satisfied that it was only a minor trouble, easily remedied, he heard Brinkley say to his companion:
“It’s queer how the water got low. I filled that radiator only a little while before the chief so nearly got shot. I don’t see how it could leak out.”
“Maybe it doesn’t leak,” said Hartman. “There may be faster evaporation than usual.”
Ned thought no more about it until an hour later when, as night was coming on, there came a sudden slowing of the motors and the craft began losing speed.
“What’s the matter?” called Tom, who was on his way to the control cabin. “Why are you slowing down, Peltok?”
“Something’s wrong!” was the answer. “One of the motors is overheating. There seems to be a leak in the water radiator. We’ll have to go down to overhaul it.”
“Too bad,” murmured Tom. “I thought we could gain a little on this leg. But it can’t be helped.”
In the gathering darkness an open spot amid the forests was picked out where theAir Monarchcould safely land and rise again after repairs were made.
As the aircraft came gently down to the ground, several scores of evil-looking men, dressed in gay but fantastic clothes and bearing long guns, rushed out from the surrounding trees.
“Looks as if we’d get a warm reception!” exclaimed Tom.
“We shall!” declared Peltok. “These are Yellow Gypsies—one of the worst tribes in Persia. We’ve got to fight, I’m afraid!”
The airship ceased moving, and as she came to a halt the horde of evil-faced men rushed up to surround the craft.