THE HOME STRETCH
“Ready for a start,” ordered Dave.
It was under new and favorable circumstances that the young pilot of the
_Comet_ spoke the words. The lonely island in the South Atlantic was now
a mere fading memory, the many leagues traversed by land and sea lost in
the past. The _Comet_ and the airship boys were stationed in a field
near to a little hostelry on the outskirts of Rio Janeiro.
It was rare good fortune, indeed, that the young adventurers had
happened across Jabez Hull. Within twenty-four hours after discovering
the shipwrecked mariner the _Comet_ was on her way due west, with a new
passenger.
The forge, tools and metal material once belonging to the wrecked
_Flying Scud_ had come in most usefully. Dave knew enough of popular
mechanics to utilize them practically. He declared the biplane as solid
and perfect, after a careful overhauling and repairing, as when the
machine had left the original starting place of the great international
race around the world.
The “treasure” of the eccentric Jabez Hull had been taken aboard. It
represented a keg sewn up in a coarse canvas jacket. Hiram was alive
with curiosity to know what possible material the package could contain
to equal in value the vaunted twenty thousand dollars. On that point,
however, the castaway had insisted on preserving utter silence.
“I’m a man of my word,” he said, “and that is all there is about it.
Land me anywhere on American territory and I will divide my riches.”
With this the airship boys were forced to be content. Room was made for
the precious keg by leaving behind on the island the greater part of the
exigency equipment of the _Comet_. The young pilot felt that now all
they need fear was the giving out of the gasoline supply. There was
plenty of this aboard the wrecked ship, and they managed to find storage
for quite an extra supply of it.
It was a daring dash, this final one over leagues of open sea in their
frail aircraft. Once begun, however, the airship boys were dauntless and
tireless. Fine weather and favorable winds assisted them, and without a
single notable mishap they had reached the great Brazilian metropolis.
The young aviator was anxious to get to a telegraph office at once. He
left Hiram and Elmer in charge of the _Comet_. Jabez Hull insisted on
accompanying him to the city.
“I want to get action on that keg of treasure,” he said. “I know several
shipping houses in Rio. I’ll be back here to the airship by noon.”
“Make it noon, sharp,” advised Dave, “for we cannot afford to lose a
single second in the race now.”
“I’ll be here on time, don’t you fret,” declared the castaway.
He and Dave parted when they reached the heart of the city. The young
airman was back with his friends before noon. He had gotten in touch
with Washington. What he learned made him more than anxious to resume
the flight.
“We are third, fellows, so far as heard from, I am sorry to say,” he
announced to his anxious comrades, and this put them in a great flutter.
“You don’t mean to say that any of the machines has reached goal?” cried
Hiram, his heart sinking to his boots.
“No,” replied our hero; “but number seven was reported at Para
yesterday. This morning number two was at Cayenne. They are hundreds of
miles nearer home than we are.”
“Then it’s a run day and night from this on,” insisted Hiram, bustling
about excitedly.
“It will have to be, if we expect to make good,” said Dave. “Mr. Hull
has not returned yet?”
“Not a sign of him,” reported Elmer.
They were all busy for the next hour, getting things in shape for a
speedy and sustained flight on the home stretch. Dave glanced at his
watch.
“It is after noon,” he observed. “I don’t see how we can afford to wait
any longer for Mr. Hull.”
“Why, we simply mustn’t,” declared the impatient Hiram.
“Get ready for a start, then. Here, Elmer,” and Dave wrote a few lines
on a card. “Take that to the hotel keeper and tell him to give it to Mr.
Hull when he shows up.”
“What were you writing?” inquired Hiram, as Elmer darted away on his
mission.
“Directions as to how he can wire us and where he can find us later,”
replied our hero.
They waited ten minutes after the return of Elmer, but there were no
signs of the missing passenger of the _Comet_. The machine went aloft as
if filled with the spirit that infused its crew. They were soon whizzing
on their way north.
“Wonder what our queer shipwreck friend will say when he finds us gone?”
inquired Hiram.
“He will understand the urgency of the situation, for I explained it in
my note,” said Dave. “He has some money with him, I know, and will
doubtless make for Washington at once.”
“I say,” broke in Elmer; “what do you fellows think about this boasted
treasure of his?”
“I, for one, don’t think anything about it at all,” responded Hiram,
bluntly. “He’s either a dreamer or a skeesicks. His not coming back to
us looks as if he had served his purpose in getting to safe territory
and has abandoned his old keg.”
“I’d like to know what it holds,” said Elmer.
“Well, it isn’t gold and it isn’t diamonds,” replied Hiram, rather
contemptuously. “I noticed in shifting it this morning that its canvas
jacket was greasy at one place, just as if the keg was full of oil.”
“Never mind,” spoke Dave. “It will do for ballast till we reach home.
Then, if Mr. Hull does not appear, we will have to open the keg and see
what is in it.”
The _Comet_ made five hundred miles in three laps. Once only, at
Caracas, did they have to stop for gasoline. It was early one morning
when the _Comet_ came to a stop near Belize.
Dave as usual hurried to the nearest telegraph office, and soon had the
wires busy. His anxious assistants greeted his return all in a quiver
over expected news.
“What have you found out, Dave?” projected Hiram.
“Yes, we’re all on edge to know if there is a chance to get in first,”
added Elmer.
“Number seven is two hundred miles ahead of us—just sighted at Vera
Cruz,” said the young airman. “No word has been received about number
two since our last report.”
“Oh, Dave,” cried Hiram, in a wild fever of longing and suspense, “we’ve
just got to reach goal first!”
“We shall make a very hard try, at all events,” replied our hero,
doughtily. “Get out the chart, Elmer. We must save every needless crook
and turn from this on.”
The eager boys were soon inspecting the chart. Vera Cruz was two hundred
miles away. Number seven had over six hours’ lead, estimating the
situation on a full speed basis. The young air pilot did some intense
calculating. Then he drew his finger across the chart past New Orleans,
across Louisiana, and on a line as the crow flies for Washington.
That day was one of the greatest stress for the airship boys. There was
no thought of sleep, and they cared little for food. Hiram chattered the
greater part of the time. Elmer was so anxious that he was restless and
worried. Dave kept at the wheel, grim, determined and persevering.
They ran steadily all the next night. At a little town over the border
of Georgia they had to stop for gasoline. The storekeeper from whom they
obtained it gave them some information that spurred them up afresh.
“You’re the second in the last three hours,” he informed them.
“You mean the second airship?” inquired Hiram, eagerly.
“Just that. One flew over about daylight.”
“How headed? What did it look like? Where did it go?” In his hurry and
eagerness Elmer stumbled over his words recklessly.
The man could not describe the airship, but enough was gathered from him
in a general way to give the boys some idea of the course taken by their
predecessor.
“It’s number seven, I have every reason to believe,” said Dave, when
they started up again.
“Then it will be a close finish,” declared Hiram. “We’ve gained on her a
good deal, you see.”
It was superb running for several hours after that. The landscape
beneath them, now wild and desolate, seemed to spin along like a rapid
panorama. They were traversing an uphill and down dale course, when
Hiram suddenly uttered a positive yell.
“Dave, Elmer,” he shouted—“look there!”
“It’s number seven, sure as you live!” echoed Elmer, excitedly.
“I think so, too,” agreed their pilot more quietly, but all his senses
were on the keenest alert.
Over beyond a high ridge all hands saw distinctly an airship. Its
outline answered to the description of number seven. The way it sailed
told that it was an expert racer and under the control of a true
professional.
It was lost to view behind a tree-capped ridge. When the _Comet_ in its
course has got past this obstruction, the airship had disappeared.
“It’s gone, but where?” called out Hiram.
“There it is,” suddenly cried Elmer.
About three miles ahead of them was a little settlement. This side of it
a fenced-in farm showed. In the center of its barnyard the airship boys
saw the machine that had been sailing aloft a short time previous.
Apparently it had descended on account of some break or accident. There
seemed to be no valid reason why it should land at a remote farmhouse.
“Why, there’s trouble,” exclaimed Hiram.
* * * * *
“There surely is,” said the young pilot of the _Comet_, and the trio
viewed a somewhat startling spectacle.
The owner of the other airship stood near his biplane. Four men
surrounded him. Three of them were armed with guns, and they confronted
the airman in a menacing way.