Just what happened in the moments that followed neither Jack nor any of
his companions has ever been able to describe in detail. It was a time
in which every second counted, while under their feet the flames roared
and crackled hungrily.
From the Flying Road Racer a rope came snaking down, and Professor
Chadwick caught it. At the corner of the roof in which the adventurers
were huddled was a stout post, used sometimes, apparently, for hoisting
things from the ground, for a pulley hung from it.
With a flash of inspiration the Professor, with Mr. Jesson and Jack
aiding, rove the rope through this pulley. Then, while Tom and Ned
maneuvered the Flying Road Racer so that her “bow” pointed downward, all
of the marooned adventurers who were able to do so heaved on the rope.
In this way the air craft was brought to within three feet of the roof.
Another length of rope was then looped over the side by Tom and made
fast to two of the stanchions of the balloon support. The first to test
the loop was the companion of the crazed sailor. Half dragged, he
scrambled into the body of the suspended car. Professor Chadwick
followed, and then came Mr. Jesson, while a delighted cry at his
father’s safety came from Tom.
Abner Jennings was the next to be taken on board, and then came Jack. In
the meantime Captain Andrews had buckled his belt around the limbs of
the crazed sailor and had borrowed Jack’s for the purpose of confining
his prisoner’s arms.
Trussed up in this manner the poor fellow was handed up to those on the
Flying Road Racer, and then the gallant Captain Andrews made a spring
for the swaying loop.
He was in the nick of time. As he gained the tonneau and sank to the
floor almost exhausted, there was a deafening roar, and, as if it had
suddenly melted away, the entire building collapsed. Jack turned away
shuddering as the flame and sparks shot up above the ruins.
The ideas it suggested of the fate that might have been theirs if help
had not arrived in the very nick of time, were almost overwhelming.
Tom was at the helm, and Ned it was who had cast off the rope. Slowly,
almost Phoenix-like, from amidst the flames rose the Flying Road Racer
with her heavy burden.
There was danger in the situation, too. The gas in the bag was
inflammable, and the heat of the fire might expand it so that at any
minute it might burst the container, and cause an appalling catastrophe.
This danger Tom and Ned had willingly faced when they brought the Flying
Road Racer to the rescue. But now, all their desires were centered on
getting as far away from the fire zone as was possible.
Laden as she was, the great air craft had not the same buoyancy that had
been hers when she set out at midnight from the _Vagrant_. She rose
slowly, and although her propeller was whirring at top speed, and her
rising planes were set, she once or twice sagged dangerously.
While this behavior on the air craft’s part was worrying her navigators
seriously, there came a sudden fresh cause for disquiet. Bullets from
the negroes below began to whiz about them.
The fellows had luckily been too much astonished to fire while the task
of rescue was going on. The apparition of the sky-ship had taken them so
much by surprise that they had temporarily been unable to take any
hostile action.
Now, however, they had recovered their senses and were doing all in
their power to render the escape of their late prisoners an
impossibility. Luckily, however, they did not have enough sense to fire
at the balloon bag, or their endeavors might have been crowned with
success. Instead, they aimed at the occupants of the suspended car, and
what with bad marksmanship and excitement failed to hit any of them.
True, a few bullets pinged against the suspension wires and struck the
sides of the car; but none punctured the tank, as the boys feared might
be the case, or caused any serious injury.
A breeze springing up presently wafted the overladen airship into an
upper air current, and before long she was rising merrily. More gas had
been turned into the bag, increasing its buoyancy, and by the time the
dawn began to show grayly the adventurers were far from the scene of
their fearfully narrow escape.
Behind them, however, they could see, as the light grew stronger, a
pillar of dark smoke soaring heavenward and marking the site of what had
almost proved their funeral pyre.
What with the coming of daylight and the feeling that they had been
saved from their greatest peril, the adventurers’ spirits rose
wonderfully as they sailed along. Even the crazed sailor showed symptoms
of returning sanity, and, as Professor Chadwick expected, his mental
disengagement soon passed away. Oddly enough, though, he could never
recall the events of that night. They had been wiped from his
recollection as an old sum is washed off a slate.
Jupe got out canned goods and made a fairly good breakfast, while they
were in mid-air. To some of the party it was the most novel meal they
had ever eaten. But neither their recent hardships nor unusual
surroundings impaired their appetites. All ate ravenously and felt much
better after the meal, which included hot coffee cooked on an electric
radiator. This radiator was connected with the dynamo that filled the
storage batteries and provided engine ignition and light.
During the meal, Tom told them how he and Ned and Jupe had waited beside
the Flying Road Racer after the departure of Tom and Captain Andrews on
their scouting expedition. For some time they stood their ground
patiently enough, and occupied their time, according to instructions, by
reinflating the bag.
This done, there was nothing to do but await the progress of events. Of
the search in the jungle they knew nothing. But the sound of shots from
the direction of the plantation had first roused their fears that
something was wrong.
Then they had perceived the red glare of the fire on the night sky.
Certain then that something serious was wrong, Tom took it upon himself
to get up the anchors and fly to the rescue. Little did he imagine,
however, he confessed, what dire straits his friends were in.
“We owe you a great debt of gratitude, you and Ned Bangs, for your
prompt and brave action,” warmly declared Professor Chadwick.
That the others heartily seconded the motion may be imagined. In fact,
as they all realized to the full, they owed their lives directly to Tom
Jesson’s pluck and brains and his able assistant, Ned Bangs. Jupe, too,
came in for his share of praise, for the old colored man had behaved in
the great emergency through which they had passed, with remarkable
coolness and ability.
As Tom concluded his story. Jack glanced at the barograph. They had
risen to three thousand feet, and were moving in a westerly direction.
So engrossed had they all been in discussing their wonderful escape,
that they had really hardly noticed in what course they were sailing.
“I think it’s time that we decided on a destination,” said Jack, as he
noted these things.
“Why not try for Lone Island?” said Mr. Jesson. “The _Sea King_ should
be there, and——”
Jack shook his head.
“The Flying Road Racer couldn’t fly as far as that?” asked Captain
Andrews, who had been glancing about him at all points of the compass
while this talk was going on.
“She could fly as far as that under normal conditions,” was the reply;
“but not with such a load on board. We are using up fuel at twice the
usual rate, and might have to descend to make more gas for running
purposes.”
“Can’t we refill the reservoir in mid-air?”
Mr. Jesson asked the question.
“Too dangerous, except in case of absolute necessity,” said Jack; “it
could be done, but there is a certain amount of risk.”
“I think, then, that we had better head about and make for the sea-coast
where the _Vagrant_ is hidden,” said Professor Chadwick.
“I don’t agree with you there,” said Captain Andrews positively.
“Why not?”
“Well, in the first place, during the next few days Herrera is going to
go through all that vicinity with a fine-tooth comb. He won’t let the
gems slip through his fingers without some sort of a battle for them,
you can bet.”
“What would your advice be, then?”
“To make for the mountains yonder with all speed. We can lie snugly
hidden there for a short time, and can form some definite plan. We are
all too much tired and overwrought now to discuss such things
intelligently.”
“I think you are right. I know that, now that the strain is over, I feel
like taking a long sleep,” said Mr. Jesson.
“Then let us head right on as we are going,” suggested Jack. “That range
of hills doesn’t look so very far off. We ought to get there before
afternoon. That will give us time to make camp and get things snug for
the night.”
And so it was arranged. But Captain Andrews still kept casting anxious
glances back toward the coast line.
“What’s the trouble. Captain?” asked Jack presently, noting a trace of
uneasiness on the old sailor’s countenance.
“Why, lad, I don’t much like the look of the weather yonder. See that
gray haze that’s spreading over the sky so quick? That means wind, and
maybe worse, or my name ain’t Sam Andrews.”
“Good gracious!” exclaimed Jack, “we’re in no fix to battle with a
storm.”
As he spoke a sharp puff of wind shook the Flying Road Racer.
“Could we land if anything very bad comes on?” asked Captain Andrews,
with a yet stronger tincture of anxiety in his tones.
Jack peered over the edge of the car.
“Nothing but dense forests are below us,” he said; “it would be courting
death to try to land among them.”