AN IMPROMPTU RACE
"How's she running?"
"Couldn't be better!"
"You're not crowding her though, are you? I mean we can go faster;
can't we?"
"Oh, yes, but I think if we average fifty miles an hour for the whole
trip, we'll be doing well."
Dick, Paul and Innis were talking together in the small pilot-house of
the airship. And it was Dick who made the remark about the speed.
They had risen high above New York now, and were headed across the
Hudson to the Jersey shore. They would cover the Western part of the
Garden State.
"It sure is great!" cried Innis, as he looked down from the height. "If
anyone had told me, a year ago, that I'd be doing this, I'd never have
believed him."
"Me either!" declared Dick. "But it's the best sport I ever heard
about."
"And you sure have got some airship!" declared Larry, admiringly. The
young reporter had just finished writing an account of the start,
heading his article, "Aboard the Abaris," and, enclosed in a leather
holder, had dropped the story from a point near the clouds. The
leather cylinder had a small flag attached to it, and as it was dropped
down while the airship was shooting across the city, it attracted
considerable attention. By means of a glass Larry saw his story picked
up, and he felt sure it would reach the paper safely. And he learned,
later, such was the case.
"We'd better arrange to divide up the work of running things while
we're in the airship," suggested Dick. "We want to have some sort of
system."
"That's right," agreed Mr. Vardon. "We shall have to do some sleeping."
"How long do you figure you will take for the trip?" asked Lieutenant
McBride, who was making official notes of the manner in which the motor
behaved, and of the airship in general.
"Well," answered Dick, "we can make a hundred miles an hour when we're
put to it," and he looked at Mr. Vardon for confirmation.
"Yes, that can be done," the aviator said. "But of course we could not
keep that up, as the motor would hardly stand it. But fifty miles, on
the average, for the entire trip, would be a fair estimate I think."
"And figuring on it being three thousand miles from New York to San
Francisco, we could do it in sixty hours of continuous flight," added
Dick. "Only of course we'll not have such luck as that."
"No, we've got to make one descent anyhow, about half-way across, to
take on more oil and gasolene," Mr. Vardon said. "And we will be very
lucky if we don't have to come down but once more on the way. But we
may have luck."
"I think we will!" cried Dick.
While the young millionaire was at the wheel, taking the airship higher
and higher, and Westward on her journey. Mr. Vardon and Lieutenant
McBride arranged a schedule of work, so that each one would have an
opportunity of steering.
"And while you're at it," suggested Innis, "I wish you'd arrange a
schedule for the cooking. Have I got to do it all?"
"Indeed not," said Dick. "We'll put Paul and Larry to work in the
galley."
"Not me!" exclaimed Paul. "I can't even cook water without burning it."
"Get out! Don't you always do your share of the camp cooking when we
go off on hikes and practice marches?" objected Innis, to his cadet
chum. "Indeed and you'll do your share of it here all right! I'll see
to that."
"I guess I'm caught!" admitted Paul.
The start had been made about ten o'clock in the morning, and before
noon more than ninety miles had been covered, as registered on the
distance gage. This took the party across New Jersey.
They had passed over Newark, and the Orange mountains. The rule
against flying over a city had bothered Dick who argued that it would
take him much out of his air line, and consume more time if he always
had to pick out an unpopulated section.
So the rule was abrogated as far as the aviation association was
concerned.
"And if the policemen of any cities we fly over want to take a chance
and chase us in an aerial motor cycle, let 'em come!" laughed the young
millionaire.
Dinner was served at a height of about eight thousand feet. Dick
wanted to get himself and his companions accustomed to great heights,
as they would have to fly high over the Rockies. There was some little
discomfort, at first, in the rarefied atmosphere, but they soon got
used to it, and liked it. Grit, however, suffered considerably, and
did not seem to care for aeroplaning. But he was made so much of, and
everyone was so fond of, him that he seemed, after a while, to forget
his troubles. He wanted to be near Dick all the time.
Mr. Vardon was a veteran aviator, and heights did not bother him.
Lieutenant McBride, too, had had considerable experience.
Afternoon found the Abaris over Pennsylvania, which state would require
about six hours to cross at the speed of fifty miles every sixty
minutes. The captive balloons, and other landmarks, enabled them to
keep to their course.
Dick put his craft through several "stunts" to further test its
reliability and flexibility. To every one she answered perfectly. The
gyroscope stabilizer was particularly effective, and no matter how
severe a strain was put on the craft, she either came to an even keel
at once when deflected from it, or else did not deviate from it.
"I shall certainly report as to the wisdom of having such an apparatus
on every airship the United States uses," declared Lieutenant McBride.
"No matter whether Dick Hamilton's craft wins the prize or not,--and I
certainly hope he does--the gyroscope must be used."
"I am glad to hear you say so," spoke the inventor, "but I never would
have been able to perfect it had it not been for my friend Dick
Hamilton."
"Why don't you blush, Dick?" asked Innis, playfully.
"I don't take any credit to myself at all," said the young millionaire.
"Well, I'm going to give it to you," declared the aviator. "From now
on the gyroscope stabilizer will be known as the Vardon-Hamilton, and
some additional patents I contemplate taking out will be in our joint
names."
"Thanks," said Dick, "but I'll accept only on one condition."
"What is that?"
"It is that no money from this invention comes to me. If I win the
twenty thousand dollar prize I'll be content."
"What are you going to do with the money?" asked Paul Drew, for Dick
really had no need of it.
"I'll build a new gym, at Kentfield," was the reply. "Our present one
is too small. We need an indoor baseball cage too."
"Good for you!" cried Innis. "You're a real sport!"
In the evolutions of the airship each one aboard was given a chance to
pilot her. He was also allowed to stop and start the machinery, since
it could not be told at what moment, in an emergency, someone would
have to jump into the breech.
It was about three o'clock in the afternoon, when Dick's ship was
nearing the Western borders of Pennsylvania, that Paul, who was looking
down through the celluloid floor in the cabin, cried out:
"Something going on down below us, boys!"
All save Innis, who was steering, crowded around the odd window.
"Why, there's an airship meet going on down there," said Dick. "Look,
there are a lot of monoplanes and some biplanes."
"Let's go down a bit and salute them," suggested Larry.
"Down she is!" cried Innis, as he pulled over the lever of the
deflecting rudder. "Say when, Dick."
"Oh, keep her up about two thousand feet. We don't want to interfere
with any of their evolutions."
But the advent of the Abaris seemed welcomed by the other airships that
were taking part in the evolutions below. Two of them, which had been
flying high, at once pointed their noses upward, and raced forward to
get in line with Dick's craft.
"They're going to race us!" Paul shouted.
"Come on, Dick, now's your chance!"
"Shall I?" the young millionaire asked of Mr. Vardon.
"Yes, go ahead. Let's see what we can do to them. Though they are
probably much swifter than we are."
"Take the wheel, Dick!" cried Innis. "I want to see you beat 'em."
The implied challenge was at once accepted, and in another moment the
impromptu race was under way.