WINNING A PRIZE
Indeed it did seem that nothing could save Noddy and Bill. With the
speed of the wind, and like a bird with a broken wing, their aeroplane
was shooting downward. The two could be seen, even in the gathering
dusk, to be working desperately to throw up the head planes or the
lifting rudder. If this could be done the biplane would shoot upward on
a slant, and its swift downward flight would be checked.
“His rudder lines must be jammed,” murmured Jerry in a low voice.
There were expressions of horror from the crowd. The aeroplane was now
within a hundred feet of the ground.
Suddenly there was a flutter of white at the prow, a flash of a canvas
plane, and the nose of the craft appeared to tilt upward.
“He’s done it!” cried Ned. “He’s got the rudder to work! Now he can
save himself!”
“If it isn’t too late,” added Bob.
But Noddy proved himself to have some pluck, and he showed not a little
knowledge of how to manage his machine. Quickly throwing up the forward
plane, he sent his craft along on a slightly upward slant. This checked
it almost like a brake, and, when he had considerably reduced the
momentum, he shifted the rudder lines, and once more headed for the
earth.
There was a cheer from the crowd, and our friends could not help
joining in it, even though they had no love for Noddy or Bill.
“He’s all right now, if he keeps control of it,” spoke Jerry.
Whether Noddy did not keep control of it, or whether the experience
through which he had just passed shook his nerves was not manifest, but
as a matter of fact he came down to the ground on too short a slant,
and without checking enough of his speed.
There was a splintering sound, a breaking of metal, and the bicycle
wheels of the aeroplane collapsed under the sudden shock. Noddy and
Bill were thrown out, but not hurt beyond a severe shaking up. Willing
hands assisted them to rise.
“You had a lucky escape,” commented one man.
“I should say yes,” chimed in another. “I thought it was all up with
you.”
“Oh, we’re tough; eh, Bill?” cried Noddy with a boastful laugh. “I knew
we’d come out all right. The tilting rudder got jammed. But I guess our
machine is badly smashed.”
“No, a new set of wheels and a couple of springs is all it needs,”
decided one of the aeronauts after an inspection. “There are a lot of
spare parts here. You can get fixed up in time for the race.”
“He’s got more pluck than I gave him credit for,” remarked Bob, as he
and his chums went back to their quarters and proceeded to get supper.
There were busy times next day for all concerned in the meet.
Officials were making the final arrangements for handling the crowds
they expected; exhibitors and those who expected to take part in the
flights and races were “tuning up” their motors, or making repairs or
changes in their machines. Some of the earlier comers were taking short
flights, and one daring Frenchman, in a tiny machine, was circling high
in the air, trying for a record.
Our heroes found a few changes necessary to make to their craft, and
they were so busy over them that they paid little attention to what was
going on outside. In the afternoon Ned, who had gone to the secretary
to secure some information concerning the time of certain races,
reported that Noddy’s machine had been repaired and that the bully and
Bill were going to make another flight.
“How’d he get another set of wheels so soon?” asked Jerry, pausing with
a small bicycle wrench in his hand. He had been tightening some of the
turnbuckles of the guy wires.
“Oh there was a set here that some one left or didn’t want and some
extra tires,” replied the merchant’s son. “Say, you ought to see them.
They’re almost as big as automobile wheels, with thick, heavy tires
on them, and those raised, right-angle, anti-skid projections on the
rubber. They make a track in the mud like a lot of chickens.”
“What made Noddy put on such heavy tires?” asked Bob.
“Guess he hadn’t any choice,” answered Ned. “He’s going to take part in
the hundred mile race to-morrow, and he wants to be ready, I guess.”
“I hope we win that race,” remarked Jerry thoughtfully.
“Why there isn’t much money in it,” went on Ned. “There’s twenty-five
hundred dollars for the machine that makes the best height record. I
should think you’d care more about that. It’s only a thousand and the
gold cup for the winner of the hundred mile race.”
“I know it, but it’s the cup I want for a trophy,” said Jerry. “We
don’t really need the money, but I like the glory. Besides, going after
a height record is rather monotonous, just circling about in a spiral.
Of course it’s sensational for the crowd to watch, and that’s why the
management offer a big money prize for it. But the best test of an
aeroplane is in a long distance flight. I hope we win.”
Of course Ned and Bob did also, though there was a difference of
opinion as to which race would confer the greater honor if won.
There were many machines in flight now, in preparation for the next
day. There were a number of biplanes, including Noddy Nixon’s _Winner_,
several monoplanes, one triplane, three dirigible balloons, and one
machine something like that of our heroes, a combination balloon and
aeroplane. But it was not as large nor as powerful as the _Comet_.
The air was filled with the snapping, crackling sounds of motors being
tried, and the smell of gasolene was all over. There was a babel of
tongues, French, German, Italian and Japanese, for one aviator of the
latter nation was going to try for a prize.
Here one would see an aviator and his assistants mending a torn plane,
or fixing a rudder. Over at the other side of the grounds one of the
birdmen was testing the thrust of his machine’s propellers by means of
a spring scale. Another was trying to discover a defect in his ignition
system, and others were oiling, fixing or warming up their motors.
Flags and banners fluttered from tents and hangars, officials were
hurrying to and fro, and some excited and anxious aviators were seeking
missing parts which had been shipped to them but which had not arrived.
“Lots doing,” commented Bob, as he and his chums got ready to go up in
their machine.
“Plenty,” agreed Jerry.
“It’s almost like a circus,” was Ned’s opinion, “and we’re part of the
show.”
“Well, get aboard and we’ll start,” counseled Jerry. “We’ll see if we
can get up any speed.”
“That’s a great machine you’ve got there,” complimented the busy
secretary as he hurried past. “Will you give some exhibitions flights
after the regular events?”
“Perhaps,” promised Jerry.
Our heroes had no reason to complain of the manner in which their craft
behaved. They went up to a good height and circled about in graceful
curves. Then, having warmed up the motor, Jerry, who had been picked
by his chums to guide the _Comet_ in the race the next day, sent her
around the ten mile course.
Faster and faster flew the big machine until even the tall steersman,
exacting as he was, could not help admitting that he was satisfied.
“She’ll do,” he said, as he coasted toward the earth. “We’ll make the
flight of our lives to-morrow, and----”
“Win!” cried Ned.
“Exactly!” exclaimed Jerry.
Swiftly the time went by, until at last came the hour for the great
hundred mile race. The immense grand stand was filled with an eager
anxious throng, and thousands equally eager and anxious stood about
the big field, well out of way of the air machines. The course of ten
miles was marked by anchored balloons, painted white, which were easily
visible across the wide valley where the meet took place.
Noddy Nixon had his machine out at the starting line. It had been
patched up, and, as Ned had remarked the wheels seemed too big for it.
In all there were seven starters besides the _Comet_, and contestants
included the _Winner_, a triplane, an Antoinette, a Bleriot monoplane
and Wright, Curtiss and Farman biplanes.
It was to be a “flying” start. That is the contestants would get in
motion at the sound of a gun, would rise as best they could, and
approach an imaginary line in the air, above the white balloon marking
the beginning of the course. Then the race would be to the swiftest
machine.
There was a last inspection of the engines and air craft, a hurried
testing of the propellers, and then, in answer to a question from the
secretary, the contestants said that they were ready.
Bang! went the pistol. The report was followed by a series of deafening
explosions as the motors started. Our three heroes were among the first
to get under way, and they quickly mounted to a good height. The others
followed. All approached the first anchored balloon in a bunch and a
moment later the race was on.
“Now for a long and steady grind,” said Bob, as he and Ned, oil cans in
hand, went to the motor room. Jerry was in the steering tower.
“Look what’s coming!” cried Bob, pausing in the act of lubricating a
bearing. “The Antoinette is going to pass us!”
“Let her,” answered Jerry easily. “He hasn’t enough gasolene to last
out, I don’t believe, if she burns it up that way.”
“And here comes Noddy in the _Winner_,” added Ned.
“Don’t worry,” advised the tall lad. “The race has only begun.”
Noddy and Bill, in their craft shot up on even terms with our friends,
and then, as though to show what he could do, Noddy dropped back again.
The big triplane was having difficulties, and it had not covered more
than three-quarters of the way around the first circle of the course
before it dropped out and went back to earth, engine troubles being
responsible. The other machines remained in the race, however, and
were about on even terms. Now one would be ahead, and then another.
The monoplane took the lead after the first ten miles, and kept it for
two rounds. Then the engine suddenly ceased working and the unlucky
operator had to volplane to earth.
Meanwhile Jerry and his chums had gone steadily on. The tall lad had
gradually increased the speed of the engine, as he found it working
well, and now they were making about forty miles an hour. This would
soon be almost doubled when the race was nearer an end.
The Farman, Curtiss and Wright machines were about on a line with the
_Comet_, and the _Winner_ was a little to the rear.
“I guess those big tires are too much for Noddy,” remarked Ned.
“Aren’t you going to speed up, Jerry?” asked Bob.
“Yes, I guess it’s about time.”
The race was half over when Jerry opened the gasolene throttle wider.
At once the _Comet_ shot well to the fore. As if only waiting for this
the others followed suit, all save the Antoinette, which had to drop
out. This left five contestants.
“Now the real race begins,” remarked Jerry grimly, as he took a firmer
grasp of the steering wheel.
“And here comes Noddy,” added Ned.
Indeed the race was now on in earnest. Faster and faster flew the
airships, their motors crackling and spluttering in a deafening
manner. They were not flying very high, for it was desired to give the
spectators a good view of the spectacular contest.
“They’re creeping up,” warned Bob, as he saw the other four machines
edging closer and closer.
“Let them,” said Jerry. “I’ve got some reserve power yet, and I think
they’re about all in.”
Ned looked at the speed gage.
“Ninety miles an hour!” he gasped. “We’ll finish in a few minutes more.”
“That’s what I hope to do,” replied the tall lad.
Hardly had he spoken than there sounded behind them an ominous cracking
sound. In alarm our heroes looked to the wings of their craft, but they
were all right.
“It’s the Curtiss,” cried Ned. “One of the wing tips had gone to smash.”
This was so. Too sudden a strain had put it out of commission. Like a
disabled bird the biplane was wobbling uncertainly in the air. The next
moment it shot toward earth, and came down with a crash.
Our heroes turned white, for well they knew the terrible result of
such a fall. But they could not stop. On and on they went, faster and
faster. Yet, as they circled the course on the last ten miles they saw
Noddy and the Farman machine creeping up on them.
Now Noddy was almost on even terms, and so close that the evil,
grinning faces of himself and Bill Berry could easily be seen.
“Beat him, Jerry! Beat him!” begged Ned.
“Yes, don’t let him get ahead!” pleaded Bob.
Jerry did not answer, but his lips parted in a grim smile, and his hand
grasped the steering wheel more firmly while with his foot he pressed
open still wider the accelerator throttle.
The Wright and Farman machines were now almost wing and wing with
Noddy’s craft, which hung just at the flank of the _Comet_. The white
balloon, marking the finish was but three miles ahead. They would be up
to it in about two minutes at the fearful speed they had now attained.
Suddenly, with a rush, the _Winner_ forged ahead of the other two
contestants and took her place on even terms with the _Comet_.
“Look out!” cried Ned. “Noddy may foul us!”
Jerry nodded. He threw over the throttle to the end notch. The _Comet_
shot ahead like a fox making a last desperate spurt to get away from
the dogs. The finish balloon was but a few hundred feet farther on.
Suddenly the motor of the _Comet_ ceased working. The silence was more
ominous than a terrific explosion could have been.
“We’re done for!” cried Ned.
“It’s all up!” predicted Bob.
“No!” fairly shouted Jerry. “We’ll volplane the rest of the way!”
He tilted the deflecting lever. Instantly the nose of the _Comet_
pointed earthward. There was a shout of dismay from the spectators, and
a yell of triumph from Noddy Nixon.
But he had reckoned without his host. With the terrific speed at
which she had been running to urge her on, and aided by the force of
gravitation and her momentum, the _Comet_ shot forward. Then, when
still a good distance from the earth Jerry sent her up on a sharp slant.
Forward she shot, like an arrow from the bow, and an instant later,
with her engine “dead” she crossed the line a winner, two lengths in
advance of the Nixon machine, which was second.
“Wow! We did it!” cried Bob in delight.
“By the great horn spoon, yes!” yelled Ned. “Jerry, you’re a wonder!”
Jerry said nothing. He was now guiding the _Comet_ safely to earth by
the maneuver known as “volplaning.”