A GRAND SUCCESS
“All ready!”
Robert King, seated in the pilot room of the _Albatross_, spoke the
words through a tube at his side connecting with the cabin.
Dave Dashaway stood beside him, and behind the young aviator was Hiram
Dobbs. It was the most impressive moment in all the boys’ lives. Well
might it be, for the next movement of the expert airman meant the start
of the giant airship on a cruise but once before attempted by mortal
man.
Before the skilled sky rider was a great sheet of glass punctured with
knobs of metal. Each bore a number. From practice, these indices to
guiding detail were as familiar to Mr. King as an alphabet to a
schoolboy. The operator was so intent upon his work that his hand
trembled, his eyes were glued to the pilot board, and his face was quite
pale. Dave stood with every nerve tense and strained. Hiram fairly held
his breath. There was a grind and a sway as Mr. King touched a
particular button. The huge gas bag lifted its prow from the ground,
then its body cleared all earth of contact, and the next instant was
stretched out on an angle of forty-five degrees.
“We’re started!” breathed Dave.
“It’s grand!” pronounced Hiram, in a gasp.
Both edged towards the open window. A dizzying panorama greeted their
sight.
The old factory was a wreck. One entire sidewall and parts of the front
and rear walls had been torn out of place that morning, to allow for the
exit to level ground of the _Albatross_. Outside of the enclosure over a
thousand persons were gathered. A band was playing, the crowd was
cheering, and from a neighboring roof a group of reporters and a dozen
airmen, friends of Mr. King, joined in the tumult, waving hats, flags
and handkerchiefs.
The _Albatross_ behaved splendidly. There was not a jar as it ended a
mile ascent in exactly five minutes. Then, as the vast machine balanced
to its natural position, it began a straight, even glide so graceful and
buoyant that it imparted a positive thrill to the passengers.
“Say, it’s glorious!” burst out the irrepressible Hiram, “I feel as if I
had been taking laughing gas!”
Dave resumed his position near his friend and patron, Mr. King. For the
present he was to take no active part in running the _Albatross_. He
had, however, sat up half the night listening to the arrangements mapped
out by Professor Leblance. He realized, too, that as soon as he learned
all that the aviator had acquired he was to relieve him. There was not a
movement made by the skilled hand of the airman that Dave did not
memorize. He had accompanied the professor in a tour all over the craft
two hours before starting, and had been amazed at the simplicity of the
construction as a whole. He was lost in admiration as he realized what a
perfect mechanism controlled the giant airship.
The Frenchman had four skilled airship men under his orders. They had
been trained to their duties in Germany and France. Each knew what was
required of him, and each understood that, while they appeared to act as
automatons, a single miss in the programme might end their career in
mid-air, or in the ocean depths.
Outside of these men, who performed engineering duties solely, a young
and enthusiastic Pole named Vacla assisted the professor in the actual
control of the craft. In the pilot room Mr. King directed the course of
the _Albatross_ by electric signals, or word of mouth through the
speaking tube.
Passages ran past the cased-in balloonets to every part of the airship.
In the direct center of the craft and above the airplanes and float
attachments was the roomy cabin. Two persons, both foreigners, the cook
and the cabin attendant, had this department in charge. The cabin had
rows of windows on both sides, and was furnished comfortably and even
elegantly. Seated at one of the windows, a passenger had a perfect view
as far as the eye could reach.
Hiram found his way to the cabin, to come upon Mr. Dale and Grimshaw
viewing the fast-receding earth. The good hearted old gentleman, who had
financed the proposition almost solely on Dave’s account, was chuckling,
with his fat comfortable face crossed with a great smile of delight.
Grimshaw seemed more contented and spirited than Hiram had ever seen him
before.
“We’ve made a famous start,” burst out Hiram, waving his hand in glee.
“That’s pleasant,” beamed Mr. Dale.
“And Mr. King says we’re going to keep it up.”
“That’s natural,” joined in Grimshaw.
“Everything has been provided for, and we’re going ahead slick as
grease.”
“That’s evident,” chuckled Mr. Dale.
“And we’re going to cross the Atlantic first!” boasted the excited young
airman.
“That’s all!” roared Grimshaw—“all worth working for and waiting for.
I’ve dreamed it for ten years. Now—hooray!”
In about half an hour Professor Leblance, Mr. King and Dave came into
the cabin. The Frenchman’s eyes were shining with half-suppressed
excitement and satisfaction. Mr. Dale rushed at him and grasped his hand
fervently.
“My friend,” he said, “you’ve proven a genius, a wonder! Hold out as you
have begun, and I double the fee originally agreed upon.”
“Ah, sir,” replied the gifted engineer, “let me but see the land on the
other side—then, undying fame! I ask no more.”
“See here,” broke in the ever-active and restless Hiram, “is this all
we’ve got to do—sit here and let her drift?”
“About that, for the present,” returned Mr. King.
“Remember, we are still over land,” reminded the professor. “It is calm
and fair. It is a pleasant beginning. When we get over the ocean——”
The Frenchman here shrugged his shoulders expressively, as if he thought
it no child’s play ahead.
“Then,” added Mr. King, “every man must do his duty as on a ship in
stress of weather.”
“The orders are for four hours drifting,” explained Professor Leblance.
“About nightfall we will have reached what we call the approximate air
current. The right air course is just as established as the ocean roads,
and we aim to follow it in our voyage.”
“And now, my friends,” came from Mr. Dale. “I have something more to say
about this wonderful airship.”
All eyes were at once turned on the rich gentleman who had made it
possible to construct the _Albatross_.
“Years ago Dave Dashaway’s father and I were chums. He did me many a
good turn. That is why I have taken such an interest in my young friend
here. Now that this giant airship is an accomplished fact, I wish to
make it known to all of you that I have had it built on his account——”
“Oh, Mr. Dale!” interrupted our hero.
“It is true, my boy, and from this moment on I wish the _Albatross_ to
be known as Dave Dashaway’s airship,” went on the rich gentleman.
“Hooray!” cried Hiram and Grimshaw, in unison.
“My airship?” cried Dave.
“Yes, my boy, your airship,” answered Mr. Dale. “And may she win her way
across the Atlantic without a mishap.”
“Amen to that,” put in Mr. King. “Dave, my warmest congratulations,” and
he held out his hand.
Dave was so overcome he could scarcely speak. But at last he thanked Mr.
Dale heartily for his great kindness. The thought that the giant airship
had been turned over to him filled his heart with new enthusiasm.
“I’ll do my best to make a success of the trip,” he said, in a voice
filled with emotion.
“I know you will—I bank on you, my boy,” answered Mr. Dale.
They circled out toward the water for a few miles, to ascertain the
strength of some of the ocean currents of air, and as they were turning
inward again Dave cried out:
“Look, there’s a seagull trying to race with us, I do believe!” He
pointed upward and there, in the air above them and off to one side, was
one of the graceful birds.
“That’s what it is!” exclaimed Mr. Dale. “And that reminds me of
something I must do to oblige a friend. But first let us watch that
seagull.”
All eyes were now turned toward it. The swift bird seemed to realize
that one of its own kind, or, more properly, a rival, was disputing the
element so long unconquerable by man. The seagull would approach the
giant airship as if to ascertain what it wanted in the upper regions, to
learn its speed and power. Then, as if alarmed at the noise of the
propeller, or perhaps some of the odors of the escaping gas, the bird
would veer off, only to return.
“Look!” cried Dave again. “It’s going to see how much faster it can go
than we do. It’s trying to double on us, I declare!”
And that is exactly what the seagull did. Darting ahead it swung around
a good distance in front of the airship, and then, as if to prove how
puny was man, compared to nature, the bird darted straight back toward
the craft.
“He’s going to ram us—he’ll be killed, sure!” yelled Mr. King.
“No, he’s going to one side,” declared Mr. Dale.
And that is what the bird did! Like an arrow it shot along the side of
the _Albatross_, almost brushing the gas bags with its wing tips. To the
rear swung the big bird. Its purpose was now plain. It was going to
circle the airship.
“Two can play at that game!” cried Dave. “Let’s put on all speed! Can we
beat the seagull?”
“We certainly can,” said Mr. King, in a quiet voice. He walked over to
some of the signal buttons and pushed them. The effect was at once
apparent. There was an increased tremor through the whole craft. It
darted ahead and cleaved the air as it had never done before. Once more
Mr. King pressed a small lever. Again the trembling of the craft
increased as if she would shake apart. But she was staunchly built.
“Can you see the gull?” demanded Mr. Dale.
“Yes, here he comes!” cried Dave. “He’s been to the stern, rounded it,
and here he comes up alongside like the wind. He’s trying to pass us!”
“But he never will,” spoke Mr. King. “Here goes for the final test.
Perhaps it’s foolish to use our greatest speed on a new motor before
it’s been warmed up and run longer than this has, but we might as well
know first as last just what the _Albatross_ will do. Now for the test!”
He pressed a button that communicated with the motor room, and there
came such a vibration to the craft that one and all, who were not aware
of the reserve power, looked at one another in some alarm.
“How about it, Dave?” inquired Mr. King. “Are we holding our own?”
“Yes! Yes!” eagerly answered the young aviator. “The gull is straining
every wing feather, but he’s falling back. Look, no he’s even with us
now! He’s going ahead—see—see!”
Was the _Albatross_, after all, to be beaten?
The gull was now flying alongside in such a position as to be visible to
all. Clearly the bird was exerting every last ounce of strength. Its
wings were wildly beating the air, and its slender head and hooked bill
were stretched out like the prow of some slave-galley—cutting the air.
“It’s falling back—it’s falling back—we win!” cried Dave exultantly.
It was so. The gull, unable to keep up the terrific speed, was losing
ground. The airship kept on, its awful power forcing it forward. Foot by
foot the bird fell back until like some express train passing a slow
freight, the _Albatross_ shot ahead of the weary bird, and the creature,
as if humiliated by the test, folded its wings and dropped downward like
a shot, in order to rest. Then spreading wide its pinions again, it
floated in the air, far below the rival craft.
“We sure did go!” cried Dave in triumph, as some of the terrific power
was cut down. “But what was it you said you wanted to do, Mr.
Dale—something that the sight of the gull reminded you about?”
“Oh, yes. Well, it’s nothing more or less than to release a carrier
pigeon I have on board.”
“A carrier pigeon?” cried several.
“Yes, a friend of mine, who is interested in aeronautics, and who
published a magazine about them, asked me to do this for him. He gave me
a carrier pigeon a few days ago, and requested me to release it on our
trial trip. I said I would, and now I am going to send him a message of
our success. The bird will fly directly to his coop, and later, when I
give him the time we liberated it, and he notes the time of arrival, he
can figure the speed.”
“Good!” cried Dave. “Where is the pigeon?”
It was brought out in the basket where it had been held captive, and Mr.
Dale, who understood such matters, prepared a short message on thin
paper. The paper was put in a quill, sealed at both ends, and then tied
by silk thread to one of the pigeon’s wings.
The bird was taken to the deck of the craft and liberated. It soared
high in the air, circled about once or twice and, then even in that
void, seeming to get its bearings, it darted off to the south.
“Later we will learn how my friend received the message,” said Mr. Dale.
“And now I think we had better change our course.”
The _Albatross_ lined the coast a few miles to the interior. Until dusk
Dave and the others viewed a constantly changing panorama. Then there
was supper, a bountiful meal, well prepared, and immensely relished by
all hands.
After that lights were set, the big headlights, front and rear, sending
out far-reaching shafts of radiance that must have appeared to
uninitiated landsmen as streaming meteors.
Mr. King was in the cabin when the electric call bell took him to the
speaking tube. He dropped it as if some important message called him
instantly to the pilot room.
His manner and face indicated to the young aviator that whatever message
he had received had urged him to seriousness and haste.
“Something’s up; eh, Dave?” shot out Hiram, as the airman hurried from
the cabin.
“It looks that way,” assented Dave. “I wonder what?”