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CHAPTER XIII A CLOSE CALL

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doubtful it was, for what seemed a long time, whether or not the air monarch would justify her name and rise from the water. she seemed held fast to the surface of the sea along which the craft was being driven by the force of her propellers whirled by the two powerful motors, now both working well.

“will she make it, tom?” cried ned, above the roar and howl of the hurricane which seemed bent on destroying the globe-circling craft.

“can’t tell yet,” was the grim answer. “we’re just about holding our own and no more!”

tom had headed his craft into the very teeth of the strong wind, for this is the proper way in which to make an aeroplane rise. if the pilot should try to rise with the wind the chances are that his ship’s tail would flip up and he’d find himself standing on his head with the nose of the machine buried deep in the earth.

but such was the power of the wind, and such its peculiar downward pressing force that, for a time, it seemed that the ship would not rise. she seemed held down as by a giant’s hands.

“we’ve got to get up more speed!” yelled tom to those in the motor room.

“i’m giving her all the gas she’ll take!” shouted peltok.

“turn on the super-charger!” the young inventor directed. “if ever we needed that high-test gas of mine we need it now!”

he referred to the new gasoline he had been experimenting on when he had to leap through the window of his shop to avoid being blown up.

“that ought to do the trick!” exclaimed hartman, who had seen some demonstrations of the new fuel.

“turn it on,” cried tom again, and his mechanics made haste to carry out this order.

meanwhile the hurricane was increasing in violence. the wind howled as if in rage that any man-made craft should try to fight it. the sea, too, was whipped into salty spray and the waves were rapidly becoming larger and more dangerous. two or three times water sprayed all the way over the air monarch, and when ned discovered that some was entering the interior of the ship through an open window he hastened to close it.

“all ready, chief!” called brinkley, addressing tom swift. “here goes for the super-charger!”

“if she doesn’t rise now she never will!” murmured tom as he yanked the throttle around to turn on full power with the new fuel, a tank of which had been hastily connected with the carburetor.

if the motors had hummed and purred before, they fairly roared now with this new form of gas, and tom exulted in his heart.

“it wouldn’t do to use that all the while, though,” he said to himself. “it would rack the engines to pieces. but it’s good to have in an emergency. now let’s see if we can take off.”

the craft was now skimming the surface of the sea at a greater speed than she had ever before attained on water. tom pulled the throttle back another notch, advanced his sparking system a trifle, and then pulled the handle that tilted the tail rudder. until this was done the air monarch would sail along on an even keel. but with the back rudder tilted so that a current of air would strike on the lower surface, the effect would be to elevate the nose of the ship and send it up into the air on a long slant.

“i hope she’ll work,” tom told himself, as he pulled the lever.

there came another burst of wind, and now it began to rain in a torrent, while lightning flashed from the cloud-obscured sky and the deep booming of thunder seemed to shake the craft from stem to stern.

the machine quivered. it seemed to be a struggle between the elements of air and water as to which should claim her, but in the end the air won.

“we’re rising!” cried ned, who stood behind tom. but the young inventor had already noted on the altitude gage that the machine was leaving the sea and going up.

“not much too soon, either!” muttered peltok, who stood with the two machinists in the motor room where another gage showed them that the fight was being won.

“we’re all right now,” said tom with an air of relief as he guided his craft on a long slant up through the wind, the rain, the lightning and thunder. “we’re all right now.”

the engines were still rotating furiously under the power of the new gas, and tom kept them at this speed until he was well up above the surface of the sea. then, turning the craft about, to take advantage of the wind, instead of heading into it, he ordered the ordinary motor fuel gasoline turned on and slowed down his ship.

slowed down, yes, but the air monarch was still moving along at a terrific speed. and tom knew that speed was necessary, for he had lost considerable time. he had counted on some delays, but the fewer of these there were the better. and tom preferred to have them come, if they must, when he was back again on united states soil. for if the air monarch failed him then, he could use his airline express.

up, up and up soared the powerful craft, boring her way through the storm. now she was where she properly belonged, for though tom’s craft could travel on land or water she was designed, primarily, for the air.

“going above the storm, tom?” asked ned when things were more nearly normal aboard.

“going to try,” was the answer. “but there’s a big area of disturbance, i think.”

so it proved. for it took an hour of hard work before tom could force his machine to climb high enough to be above the howling wind and rattling rain. but then the air monarch found herself in a calm atmosphere, above the clouds with the sun shining, and in that peaceful region, far away from the hurricane and the lashing sea, she sailed along on her journey.

“well, she came out of that pretty well,” remarked the young inventor as he turned the wheel over to peltok while he went with ned to work out their position. ned was good at figures, and intricate calculations were necessary to determine how many miles had been traveled in the machine.

“she done noble, as eradicate would say,” agreed ned. “but it’s getting on toward dark, tom,” he observed, as he noted the position of the sun.

“that’s right. it will soon be night. but i think we can still travel on.”

“about where do you guess we are?”

“about half-way across the atlantic, i think. but we’ve got to work it out. we lost considerable by being forced down.”

when the observations had been made and the computation completed it was found that tom was a little off—that about twelve hundred miles had been covered in the twelve hours since the start. but this was very good, considering the time lost, and tom felt that the first day, or rather, the first half day, was a successful one.

as evening came on, supper was got ready and served several miles high in the air. but eating thus was no longer a novelty to tom and ned. they had done it too often on other daring cruises.

they had been blown somewhat off their course by the hurricane, but managed to get back on it when the stars began to appear and then, the night watches having been arranged, the air monarch was driven along through the darkness. there was little danger in thus traveling at night unless some accident should befall the craft itself. though a number of air machines had started in the great race, tom had no fear of colliding with them.

“i think the red arrow is ahead of us, though,” he said to his chum as they made ready to turn in for a sleep.

“it doesn’t seem to worry you.”

“what’s the use of worrying? the race has hardly begun yet. i’m satisfied.”

through the hours of darkness the craft was driven on, the five taking turns in steering, even ned being able to keep on the course by means of observing several compasses, though he did not attempt to regulate the motors, which, however, were practically automatic once they were started.

a rosy tint in the east apprised tom and his friends that the sun was rising and that morning was at hand. it was the second day of the great race, and a hasty calculation, while brinkley was preparing breakfast, told tom that they were approaching the coast of spain.

a few hours later ned, taking an observation, exclaimed:

“there’s some sort of a big harbor down there. might be a good place to land, tom, since you say we’ve about crossed the atlantic. what place do you think that is?”

“lisbon, portugal!” exclaimed peltok. “i know it. i have been there many times. it is a good place to land!”

“then we’ll go down!” decided tom. “we’ll get oil and gas. we’ve done pretty well to cross the atlantic in about twenty-four hours. but that doesn’t mean we can always make as good time as that.”

amid screams from the whistles of steamers in the lisbon harbor, the big craft slowly settled down, tom, who was steering, picking out a clear space in which to anchor.

like a great bird, the air monarch dropped into the peaceful waters and slowly came to a stop. at once there were signs of activity on all the vessels within sight while the wharves alongshore became black with a mass of humanity drawn by the news of the arrival of the strange craft.

“seems as if they were expecting us,” observed ned.

“shouldn’t wonder,” agreed tom. “this world race has attracted a lot of attention.”

“do you think any of the other contestants are here, or have been here and gone?” went on ned.

“we’ll soon find out,” his chum answered.

suddenly hartman uttered a cry and pointed upward. there, hovering above them, was a great craft, painted red—a hydroplane—and it seemed to be steering straight for them.

“the red arrow!” cried tom. “we were ahead of him after all!”

“but he’s going to land on top of us!” cried ned. “look out! keep off!” he yelled.

the red arrow came down swiftly, and it was a close call for the air monarch as kilborn’s craft landed, skimmed over the water, and came within a few feet of crashing into tom’s craft.

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