BOMBARDED WITH ROCKETS
“Grab his legs!” cried Jerry. “I’ll take one, and you the other, Ned!
Bob, you stand by to help! He’s almost overboard!”
“Hadn’t you better slow up the engine?” asked Ned.
“No, we’ve only got headway enough on now to keep us afloat! No time to
slow up!”
“Then go down!” advised Bob. “He won’t fall so far.”
“No, we’ve got to pull him back right away!” declared the tall lad.
“Come on now. He must have fainted, and has very nearly fallen off.
Grab his legs! Quick!”
Cautiously the three lads advanced toward the edge of the platform,
over which the professor’s head and shoulders were hanging.
Jerry made a grab for the left leg, Ned for the right, while the stout
lad stood ready to lend whatever assistance might be needed.
No sooner, however, had Ned and Jerry gotten a good hold, and were
about to haul in, than the professor, with a combination wiggle and
squirm turned over, hitched himself along the deck, sat upright and
yelled:
“I’ve got it! I’ve got it! Oh, you little beauty! Oh, you prize! I
thought you’d never come near enough but you did, and now you’re mine!”
Over his head he swung his large butterfly net, with a long handle,
and before the astonished boys could ask what was the meaning of his
conduct, the scientist gathered into a small space in a pocket in the
bottom of the net, a tiny insect, something like a dragon-fly. Then,
having insured the safety of his specimen, Mr. Snodgrass looked calmly
at the boys who stood regarding him with amazement and fear mingled on
their faces.
“Well, I got it,” said the scientist coolly.
“Got what?” asked Jerry, a little provoked at the scare they had
received.
“This high-flying June bug. That’s not the scientific name for it, but
the Latin one is so long you wouldn’t understand it. I’ve got him!” and
the professor eagerly peered at his prize.
“We thought we had lost you,” spoke Ned significantly.
“Lost me--how?”
“Why, when we saw you lying over the edge of the deck we were afraid
you had nearly fallen overboard.”
“I’m sorry you had such a scare on my account,” remarked the professor
more soberly. “You see I had no idea that I was causing you worry. I
was sitting on the back of the airship, wishing I could catch some
specimen, when I heard a buzzing sound. I looked, and there, following
us was one of these rare insects.
“I at once got my longest-handled net, but when I tried to catch the
little beauty it dodged me. Finally it went down just below us, and the
only way I could reach it was to lie on my face, reach out and down as
far as I could, and swoop for it.”
“A mighty risky thing to do,” commented Jerry, for in some matters the
professor was like a child.
“I know it,” the scientist agreed cheerfully. “Once I thought sure I
was going to fall.”
“How did it make you feel?” asked Bob, curious to know.
“Well, all I remember thinking is that the high-flying June bug would
get away, or that some other scientist would capture him. Then I
managed to get it in my net, and just at that moment you boys came
along, and grabbed me by the legs.”
“Well, please don’t do it again,” begged Jerry, trying not to smile.
“I won’t,” promised the professor.
“Supper’s getting cold,” observed Bob ruefully. “Come on, I’m hungry!”
“Same old tune!” mocked Jerry, and there was a laugh that somewhat
relieved the strain under which they were.
The professor did not seem to think he had taken any unusual risk, and
he was so overjoyed at the capture of the rare insect, which was worth
at least seventy-five dollars, according to his estimate, that the boys
did not have the heart to speak of the great fright he had caused them.
After supper, when several matters had been looked to, the lamps were
lighted, and the great search-lantern gotten in readiness. Soon its
powerful glow was cutting the gathering darkness as the big airship
glided forward through space.
“Well, morning will see us within a few miles of our destination,”
remarked Jerry, as he and his chums sat about the table in the main
cabin. “Then we can make a quick run out to the aviation grounds, have
a talk with Mr. Jackson, if he’s there, and if not we’ll wait for him.
Then, after we’ve seen him, we’ll----”
“Start for the ocean, I hope,” put in the professor, who was busy
jotting notes down in his books. “I am very anxious to get after the
singing fish.”
“Yes, I think we’ll chance an ocean trip,” agreed Jerry. “But I guess
I’d better go now and see how nearly we are keeping on our course,” he
added, for he had set the automatic steering apparatus, and, as they
were flying rather low, he did not dare trust altogether to it, without
an occasional adjustment.
He found, however, that they were within a point and a half of the way
in which the nose of the craft should have been pointed, and, after
correcting the error, which was caused by the lack of smoothness of the
new machinery, Jerry was about to return to the cabin where the others
were.
As he turned to leave the motor room, he noted that the height gauge
indicated less than a quarter of a mile.
“It’s pretty low,” mused the youth, “but I guess we won’t hit anything.
To get higher I’ve got to increase the speed, and I don’t want to do
that and strain the machinery. I guess this will do. In the morning----”
Jerry paused in the midst of his sentence. From somewhere outside there
came a rushing, roaring sound, followed by a loud explosion.
“The gas bag!” was the first thought of the tall lad. “It’s burst!”
“What’s the matter?” he heard Ned and Bob crying from the cabin.
Jerry rushed out on deck, and, as he emerged a glare of light caught
his eye. A fear of fire entered his mind, but, as he watched it, the
glow seemed to die away. Not before, however, Jerry had noted that the
gas bag, which was partly inflated, was intact. Nothing had happened to
it.
“What was that?” demanded Ned, emerging from the main cabin, followed
by Bob and the professor.
“Just what I’m trying to discover,” replied the widow’s son. “It
sounded like----”
“There it goes again!” yelled Bob, as, with a whizz and a roar,
a streak of fire passed by the airship, and burst into balls of
vari-colored light just beyond the craft.
“Meteors!” shouted Ned.
“Falling stars, perhaps,” agreed the professor.
Jerry looked down, over the edge of the rail. Below him there was a
great illumination.
“Look!” he cried to his companions. “We’re over some city.”
“And they’re having a celebration,” added Ned.
“And bombarding us with rockets,” came from Bob. “Look out, here comes
a sheaf of them,” and, as he spoke, from somewhere down below on the
earth there shot upward a fiery volcano of pyrotechnics, that seemed to
be aimed directly at the motor-ship.
“They _are_ shooting at us!” cried Jerry. “Quick! Out with the lights,
or they’ll set us on fire! Douse every glim!”
He rushed for the electric switches, followed by his companions, while
the _Comet_ forged slowly ahead through the rain of fire, the sparks
from the rockets shooting all about her.