E-text prepared by Al Haines
AROUND THE WORLD IN TEN DAYS
by
CHELSEA CURTIS FRASER
Author of "Work-a-Day Heroes," "Secrets of the Earth,"
"Boys' Book of Battles," "Boys' Book of Sea Fights,"
"The Young Citizens Own Book," etc.
The World Publishing Company
Cleveland, Ohio ------ New York City
Copyright, MCMXXII, By
The World Syndicate Publishing Company
Printed in the United States of America
PREFACE
In the infancy of aviation, the early 1920's,
no one dreamed that the close of the decade
would see it firmly and permanently
established--a leader among the nation's industries.
Heavier-than-air flight is perhaps the most
amazing contribution of the 20th century.
It is easy to thrill to the seeming marvels of
our own times, but only the short-sighted thinker
believes in the perfection of present scientific
progress. The 300-mile-an-hour airplane which
Fraser conceived in this book for the speed of
the Sky-Bird II was little more than so many
words when he wrote it. . . . today we have
400-mile-an-hour fighting planes. Today we have
in this country an intricate highway system, but
perhaps within your own lifetime our highways,
and the automobiles which skim over them, will
be laughed at as obsolete and useless.
Thus it is that "the seemingly impossible of
the fiction of today becomes outdone by the facts
of tomorrow," as the author aptly phrased it.
In 1920 the idea of going around the world in
ten days was as preposterous as that projected
by Jules Verne in 1873 when he wrote _Around
the World in Eighty Days_. But time has a way
of hurling ridicule back as effectively as a
boomerang. For we have seen and marvelled at the
shattering not only of the mythical eighty-day
record but even the ten-day record, as progress
wends its ceaseless, ambitious, difficult and
almost fantastic way through the years.
And so it will be gratifying and, no doubt,
amazing to many to read this book and realize
the advancement made in aviation since this story
was written by Mr. Fraser, and how many of the
ideas he prophesied for airplane advancement
that have materialized in less than a score of years.
Around-the-world flyers, even the most recent,
have all flown more or less northerly routes, not
following the equatorial belt, which is, as we all
know, the earth's greatest circumference. It is
this course that our four young heroes take in
Sky-Bird II, a plane designed and constructed
by themselves, containing many features that
aeronautics now takes for granted, and some not
yet realized, which are, nevertheless, "within the
scope of mechanical science," as Fraser says.
So, it is our opinion, young readers, that in
addition to enjoying an exciting story, you will
benefit by carefully reading the technical
passages, and in doing so, learn to observe your
present-day surroundings with a greater
perspective--thus adding infinitely greater interest
to your view of the world today!
THE PUBLISHERS.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I PAUL AND BOB
II THE BROTHERS' INVENTION
III THE SUCCESSFUL MODEL
IV PLANNING A BIG AIRPLANE
V AN AIR RACE FINISH AND A CHALLENGE
VI THE MISSING BLUE-PRINTS
VII WHO'S AT THE WINDOW?
VIII THE SKY-BIRD II
IX THE TEST FLIGHT
X FINAL PREPARATIONS
XI OFF FOR PANAMA
XII FIGHTING A DEVIL-FISH
XIII THE STRANGE AIRPLANE
XIV A FAMILIAR FACE
XV THE START
XVI TRICKED BY RIVALS
XVII ACROSS THE ATLANTIC
XVIII AN IRRITATING DELAY
XIX SAVED BY THE SEARCHLIGHT
XX A JUNGLE ADVENTURE
XXI THE DOUBLE LOOP
XXII ABOVE THE CLOUDS
XXIII BOMBED BY ROCKS
XXIV RIDING AN AIRPLANE'S TAIL
XXV ENGULFED IN A VOLCANO'S DUST
XXVI IN AUSTRALIA
XXVII PAUL VERSUS PETE
XXVIII A MIX-UP IN DATES
XXIX A FLYING RESCUE
XXX AN ALARMING DISCOVERY
XXXI THE FINISH
Around the World in Ten Days
CHAPTER I
PAUL AND BOB
"Did you say this big Air Derby around the world takes place this
coming summer, Bob?"
"So dad told me at the breakfast table this morning, Paul. The plans
have just been completed. He said full details would be in to-day's
papers."
"And the afternoon edition is out now, for there's a newsie just ahead
of us who is calling out the _Daily Independent_. That's your father's
newspaper, too."
"It will be in there sure pop, Paul."
"Then I'm going to get a copy right now."
The two youths, who but a few moments before had come out of the broad
doors of the Clark Polytechnic Institute along with a noisy throng of
other students, paused when they reached the newsboy in question, and
the taller of the pair bought a newspaper which he shoved into an inner
pocket of his raincoat.
"We'll look at this in the car on our way home; a fellow can't do any
reading in a storm like this," said the purchaser. "Let's hurry up a
bit, Bob; I'm so eager to see what it says about that Derby that I can
hardly wait to get to the station. Say, just think of it--a race
around the world by air! Won't that be great?"
"I'll say so, Paul old boy! They ought to smash all existing records.
You know that a man named Mears made the circuit in thirty-five days
about seven years ago, and he had to depend on slow steam trains and
steamships, aided by a naphtha-launch."
"That's true, Bob. Now that we have planes we ought to do a lot
better. But the big oceans are the trouble for aircraft. The Atlantic
has been crossed by Alcock and Brown in a Vimy-Vickers biplane, and
also by our NC-4 flying-boat under the command of Lieutenant Read, and
by the big English dirigible R-34; but the Pacific, with its greater
breadth, has seemed so impossible that it has never been attempted."
"Why should it seem impossible?"
"Because they can't carry sufficient gasoline to cross the Pacific."
"But how about the islands?"
"The majority are not level enough to permit a landing, and others are
too widely scattered. I have made quite a study of transoceanic flight
since Harry Hawker and his partner, Grieve, made their unsuccessful
attempt last spring to cross the Atlantic in a Sopwith machine, and for
my part I can't see how this proposed Derby around the world can all be
done by air, when no machine has ever yet been able to hop the Pacific."
"Well, Paul, we'll soon be at the station out of this storm, and then
we can see what the paper says about it," was the philosophical
conclusion of his companion.
With that they hurried on down the street, bowing their heads to ward
off the sharp sleet as much as possible, while they gripped their
school-books under their arms. They were a splendid-looking pair of
young Americans, probably about eighteen years old, and the manner in
which they swung along through the disagreeable drizzle, paying scant
attention to it as they laughed and talked, showed them to be full of
that boundless energy and gaiety of spirits which only perfect health
and participation in athletics can bestow.
As Paul Ross and Robert Giddings approached the next corner, a young
man with umbrella held low in front of him hurried around it and ran
into a small Italian girl who was carrying a basket of fruit. She was
staggered by the collision; her basket was knocked from her arm, and
the oranges began to roll in every direction. The child broke into
tears, but the cause of her misfortune only paused long enough to say
angrily, "Confound you, you careless little beggar! Why don't you
watch where you are going?" and hurried on his way.
"Say, Paul, did you see the way that swarthy-faced chap used that
little girl?" cried Bob indignantly.
"I certainly did," was the no less indignant answer. "That lazy dog
ought to be horse-whipped. Let's help the child."
Both boys fell to work with a will, rescued the escaping oranges, and
tucked them back in their owner's basket. Then, with her grateful
thanks ringing in their ears, they hurried on once more.
After they had gone a few steps, Paul Ross observed:
"Bob, I've seen that fellow before. That was Pete Deveaux. He used to
be an Air Mail pilot on the same run as my brother John, but was
discharged for drunkenness. Since that he has blamed John, and has
written him several threatening letters, but is too cowardly to face
him."
By this time they had reached the West 137th Street station of the
suburban railroad which runs between the metropolis and various shore
towns along the picturesque Hudson. They were just in time to catch a
train, and found a comfortable seat in a rear coach. Then Paul brought
forth the newspaper he had purchased. What they sought was found on
the very first page, prominently displayed under a black-faced heading.
"Read it aloud, Paul," suggested Bob, and his friend proceeded to do
so. The article was to the effect that the Aero Club of America, in
conjunction with eminent aviation associations of the kind in Europe
and Asia, had planned to stimulate interest in flying by holding an
aircraft race around the world, which would start on the morning of
July 4th. All contestants must be at least twenty-one years of age,
and furnish an entrance fee of two hundred dollars. They might use any
type of aircraft they chose, and could carry as many assistants as they
wished, even utilizing trains or steamships, if not less than
three-fourths of their journey were made by air; and they must stop at
least once in each of four continents, and cross the Atlantic and
Pacific oceans. Aside from these provisions, the selection of route
was left entirely to each contestant. Then followed an imposing list
of names of well-known flyers who, it was said, had signified their
intention of competing. The article wound up with the statement that
prizes aggregating a million dollars would be offered the winners.
"One million dollars!" exclaimed Bob Giddings. "Paul, old man, you'd
better go in for this!"
Paul Ross's eyes sparkled, but the next moment he laughed and shook his
head. "I surely would like to," said he, "but there are just three
little things in the way of it."
"I suppose you need a machine for one thing?"
"Yes--and you must admit that's a good-sized item. Second, I need two
hundred dollars to enter--something I don't happen to have, and
something I know mother can't spare in such a hazard. Third, I need
three years added to my age in order to be eligible."
"It does look rather hopeless for you, that's a fact," admitted Bob.
"That second handicap might be overcome with my father's help, but the
other two are real obstacles."
"It's mighty nice of you and your father, Bob, to wish to help me out
in this fashion," said Paul; "but, as you state, the other drawbacks
cannot be swept aside so easily. Perhaps later on, another 'round the
world Air Derby will be pulled off, and I shall have a chance to enter
it."
"Well, if you do, don't forget to count me in as an assistant,"
declared his friend. "Nothing would please me better than to make a
trip like that with you, Paul."
"You certainly shall be welcome if the time ever comes. By the way,
Bob, John and I have designed a new type of monoplane in our spare
time, and for the past two months I have been busy making a three-foot
model of this. I hope to finish it in a day or two, and I want you to
go with me over to the old fair-grounds next Saturday afternoon and
give it a test flight, if you will."
Bob Giddings was all interest at once, and plied his friend with many
questions concerning his new model, many others of which he had in
times past helped Paul fly with the keenest delight. The truth is,
Paul Ross and his brother John, the latter a pilot in the government
Air Mail service, were known all over the State of New York as makers
of the best-flying model airplanes to be found anywhere. Ever since
they were small boys in grammar school, the brothers had been
constructing miniature monoplanes, biplanes, and seaplanes, which they
had pitted against the best product of other lads in the neighborhood
and surrounding towns, without once meeting defeat. Many of these
specimens of youthful ingenuity they still preserved, suspended in
bedroom and attic, where they were a never-ending source of interest to
visitors at the Ross homestead in the outskirts of Yonkers.
The war had called John into the aviation service of his country, but
Paul had still continued his experiments in making tiny airplanes,
getting his friend Robert Giddings, who lived in a fine house on
Shadynook Hill, to assist him in the flying. Thrown together by their
mutual love for mechanics, and being in the same classes all through
high-school, Paul and Bob had formed a strong attachment for each
other, although the latter's home was far more pretentious than the
former's, since Paul's mother was a widow in only moderately
comfortable circumstances, while Bob's father was the editor and owner
of the _Daily Independent_, one of the leading evening newspapers of
New York City.
When John returned from the war it was with an incurable passion for
flying, and within a few months he had re-entered the service of his
country in the peaceful but dangerous work of carrying Uncle Sam's
mails between Washington and New York in a big Martin bomber. He found
that his younger brother's love for aviation had also developed, as
well as his skill in constructing and flying model airplanes. Some of
these recent ones were so novel in design and of such wonderfully
ingenious workmanship, that John, who had won unusual honors as an
aviator on the French front, was quite thunderstruck, and determined to
encourage Paul's talents in this line in every way he could.
Therefore, when the boy graduated from the Yonkers high school, and
expressed a wish to take up a special course in aeronautical
engineering at Clark Polytechnic Institute, John backed him up, and the
mother, who would have preferred a less hazardous profession for her
younger son, sighingly consented.
Paul's chum, Robert Giddings, had also gone to Clark Polytechnic upon
leaving high school, his ambition being to become an electrical
engineer. Thus both boys continued to be thrown in daily contact. It
was their habit to go into the city to school each morning in the sedan
with Mr. Giddings; but as he left the city late in the afternoon they
usually took the train back.
As the friends now parted, Bob Giddings' last words were: "Don't forget
to get that new model airplane done by Saturday, Paul. I'm crazy to
see it."
"I'll be ready for you," was Paul's assurance; "but remember to keep
this under your hat. It's to be a secret test, you know."
"Trust me," said Bob.