"What did it?"
"Had we better descend?"
"Everybody get busy!"
"Fire extinguishers here!"
These and other confused cries sounded throughout the airship, following Larry's alarm.
"No, don't go down!" shouted Mr. Vardon. "We'll stay up as long as we can. We'll fight the fire in the air—above the clouds!"
"Hold her steady, Innis!" called Dick to his chum, who was at the wheel.
"Steady she is!" was the grim answer.
And while the Abaris was rushing onward those aboard her prepared to fight that most deadly of enemies—fire—and at a terrible disadvantage—nearly ten thousand feet in the air!
Fortunately preparations had been made for this emergency, and a number of portable extinguishers were placed in various places on the walls of the cabin.
These the young aviators now pulled down and rushed with them to the motor compartment, from which the black smoke was pouring in greater volume.
"Look out for a gasolene explosion!" warned the lieutenant. "Is there any of it there?"
"Only a little," answered Mr. Vardon. "The main supply is in the deck tank. But there is a small can in there for priming the cylinders, in case we have to."
"It smells like oil afire," said Larry Dexter.
"That's what it is—probably some oily waste started by spontaneous combustion," said Mr. Vardon.
As he spoke he threw the contents of his extinguisher inside the motor compartment—it was hardly large enough to be called a room. The smoke was so black that no blaze could be seen.
"Open some of the windows!" shouted Paul. "It's choking in here."
"That's right!" agreed Larry, with a cough and a sneeze.
"Stoop down—get near the floor of the cabin," ordered the army lieutenant. "The air is always more pure there."
He, too, emptied the contents of his extinguisher in the compartment, and his example was followed by the others. The smoke seemed to be less now, and much of it went out through the opened windows, which Paul slid back in their groves.
"There's the blaze!" cried Dick, as he saw, through the lessening haze of smoke, some bright, red tongues of fire.
"Douse it!" cried Paul, handing his chum a fresh extinguisher, for Dick had used his.
The young millionaire threw on the chemical powder, for this happened to be that sort of an extinguisher, and almost instantly there followed a sharp explosion.
"Look out!" yelled Dick, ducking instinctively. "I guess this is the end of everything!"
But, to the surprise of all, the motor still kept up its hum, and they could tell, by the "feel" of the craft that she was still progressing. The gale had now almost completely died out, and the Abaris was making good time, and on her proper course, when the fire was discovered.
"The fire is scattered!" Dick yelled, as he rose up and took another look in the motor-room. "I guess it was only that little tank of gasolene that went up." Afterward this was found to be so.
The blazing liquid, however, had scattered all about the motor compartment. Fortunately the walls were of steel, so that the fiery stuff could burn itself out without doing much damage.
"More extinguishers!" yelled Dick, as he saw the spots of fire about the motor. "First thing we know, some of the insulation will be burned off, and we'll have a short circuit!"
The motor-room was almost free of smoke now, and there were only a few scattered spots of fire. Standing in the entrance, Dick threw the contents of several extinguishers inside, as they were passed to him, and he had the satisfaction of seeing the flames gradually choked by the chemical fumes thus released.
"Now I guess we're all right," said Mr. Vardon, when no more fire could be seen. "And the marvel of it is that our motor never stopped!"
"That's the one thing that saved us from making another descent—our last," murmured Dick. "That's sure some motor, all right."
But they were congratulating themselves too soon, it seemed. For, hardly had Dick spoken than the monotonous whine of the powerful machine seemed to weaken in tone. It died out—the high note sunk to a low one, and gradually went out.
"What's up now?" asked Paul, peering over Dick's shoulder. The motor compartment was still too hot to enter with safety, and it was also filled with acrid vapor, from the extinguishers.
"I—I'm afraid it's going to stop," gasped Dick, for he was out of breath from his exertions, and from the excitement of the occasion.
"Stop!" cried Paul. "If she does we'll have to go down!"
And stop the motor did. There was a sort of final groan or gasp, as if of apology, and then the wheels stopped revolving and the big propellers outside the cabin, which had been forcing the craft onward, gradually ceased their motion.
"Quick?" shouted Mr. Vardon. "Throw on the self-starter, Dick! We may catch her before she loses all her momentum!"
"All right!" answered Dick. He made one jump to the switch that put into commission the electrical starter. But he was too late to "catch" the motor. It had died down, and, though the young millionaire made contact after contact with the copper knife-switch, there was no response.
"We're falling!" cried Innis, from the pilot-house, as he noted the height gage, and saw that the hand was constantly receding. "We're falling, Dick!"
"I know it—no help for it," answered our hero, hopelessly.
The Abaris was certainly going down. When the propellers had ceased to urge her forward she began to dip toward the earth, even as a stone falls when the initial impulse from the sling, or the hand of the thrower, is lost.
Foot by foot she dropped, and those aboard her looked helplessly at one another. They had made a brave fight against the fire, but it seemed to have gone for naught. They could not keep up with the motor stalled as it was.
"I guess we'll have to make another landing," said Innis, as he remained at the wheel.
Of course they were entitled to one more, but it would be the last, and a long and hard part of their trans-continental flight was still ahead of them. If they went down this time, and, after making repairs, came up into the air once more, they would not, under the rules, be allowed to land again before reaching San Francisco.
"It's tough luck, but I guess we'll have to do it," said Larry Dexter.
"Maybe not!" Dick cried. "I have an idea."
"What is it? Tell us quick!" begged Innis, for he, as well as all of Dick's friends, wanted to see him win the prize.
"I think the insulation has been burning off some of the wires of the motor," was his answer. "That would make a short circuit and put it out of business. Now if we can only keep afloat long enough to change those wires, we may be able to start the motor again, and keep on our way before we touch ground."
"You've struck it!" cried Mr. Vardon. "Dick, you take charge of the wheel—you and any of your friends you want. I'll look over the motor, and make repairs if I can."
"And they'll have to be made pretty soon," called out Innis from the pilot-house. "We're falling fast."
"Throw her nose up," cried Dick. "That's what we've got to do to save ourselves. We'll volplane down, and maybe we can keep up long enough to have Mr. Vardon put in new wires in place of the burned-out ones. If he can do that, and if we can start the motor—"
"It sounds too good to be true," said Innis. "But get in here, Dick, and see what you can do. You've got to volplane as you never did before."
"And I'm going to do it!" cried the young millionaire.
The motor-room was now free from smoke, and the fire was out. A pile of charred waste in one corner showed where it had started.
"That's the trouble—insulation burned off!" cried Mr. Vardon, as he made a quick inspection. "I think I can fix it, Dick, if you can keep her up long enough. Take long glides. We're up a good height, and that will help solve."
Then began a curious battle against fate, and, not only a struggle against adverse circumstances, but against gravitation. For, now that there was no forward impulse in the airship, she could not overcome the law that Sir Isaac Newton discovered, which law is as immutable as death. Nothing can remain aloft unless it is either lighter than the air itself, or unless it keeps in motion with enough force to overcome the pull of the magnet earth, which draws all things to itself.
I have told you how it is possible for a body heavier than air to remain above the earth, as long as it is in motion. It is this which keeps cannon balls and airships up—motion. Though, of course, airships, with their big spread of surface, need less force to keep them from falling than do projectiles.
And when the motor of an airship stops it is only by volplaning down, or descending in a series of slanting shifts, that accidents are avoided.
This, then, is what Dick did. He would let the airship shoot downward on a long slant, so as to gain as much as possible. Then, by throwing up the head-rudder, he would cause his craft to take an upward turn, thus delaying the inevitable descent.
All the while this was going on Mr. Vardon, aided by Lieutenant McBride, was laboring hard to replace the burned-out wires. He worked frantically, for he knew he had but a few minutes at the best. From the height at which they were when the motor stopped it would take them about ten minutes to reach the earth, holding back as Dick might. And there was work which, in the ordinary course of events, would take twice as long as this.
"I'm only going to make a shift at it," explained the aviator. "If I can only get in temporary wires I can replace them later."
"That's right," agreed the army man.
"How you making it, Dick?" asked Larry, as he came to the door of the pilot-house.
"Well, I've got five hundred feet left. If he can't get the motor going before we go down that far—"
Dick did not finish, but they all knew what he meant.
"Another second and I'll have the last wire in!" cried Mr. Vardon. "Do your best, Dick."
"I'm doing it. But she's dipping down fast."
"Oh, for a dirigible balloon now!" cried the lieutenant. "We could float while making repairs."
But it was useless to wish for that. They must do the best they could under the circumstances.
"There she is! The last wire in!" shouted the aviator. "How much space left, Dick?"
"About two hundred feet!"
"That may do it. Now to see if the self-starter will work!"
Eagerly he made a jump for the switch. He pulled it over. There was a brilliant blue spark, as the gap was closed.
The electrical starter hummed and whined, as if in protest at being obliged to take up its burden again.
Then, with a hum and a roar, the motor that had stalled began to revolve. Slowly at first, but soon gathering speed.
"Throw in the propeller clutch!" yelled Dick. "We're going right toward a hill, and I can't raise her any more."
"In she goes!" yelled Lieutenant McBride, as he pulled on the lever.
There was a grinding of gears as the toothed wheels meshed, and the big wooden propellers began to revolve.
"There she goes!" cried Mr. Vardon.
The Abaris, which had almost touched the earth, began to soar upward under the propelling influence. Dick tilted back the elevating plane as far as he dared.
Had the motive power come in time, or would they land on the hill?
But success was with them. Up went the big airship. Up and up, flying onward. Her fall had been checked.
And only just in time, for they went over the brow of the hill but with a scant twenty feet to spare. So close had they come to making a landing.
"I congratulate you!" cried Lieutenant McBride. "I thought surely you would go down." He had out his pencil and paper to make a note of the time of landing. It would have been the last one allowed, and it would seriously have handicapped Dick. But he had escaped, and still had some reserve to his credit.
"And now I guess we can eat," said the young millionaire, with a sigh of relief.
"A quick bite, only," stipulated Mr. Vardon. "Some of those wires I put in last are a disgrace to an electrician. I want to change them right away. They won't stand the vibration."
"Well, coffee and sandwiches, anyhow," said Dick, and the simple meal was soon in progress.
Steadily the airship again climbed up toward the clouds, from which she had so nearly fallen. And with a sandwich and a cup of coffee beside him, Mr. Vardon worked at the wires, putting in permanent ones in place of the temporary conductors. This could be done without stopping the motor.
"I wonder if it was the fire Grit was anticipating all the while he acted so queer?" asked Innis.
"I don't know—but it was something," Dick said. "I shouldn't wonder but what he did have some premonition of it. Anyhow, you gave the alarm in time, old boy!" and he patted his pet on the back.
Grit waved his tail, and barked. He seemed himself again.
It took some time to make good the damage done by the fire, and it was accomplished as the airship was put back on her course again, and sent forward toward the Pacific coast. They were all congratulating themselves on their narrow escape from possible failure.
It was that same afternoon, when Mr. Vardon had finished his task, that something else happened to cause them much wonderment.
The motor was again in almost perfect condition, and was running well. Most of the party were out on the deck behind the cabin, enjoying the air, for the day had been hot, and they were tired from fighting the tire.
Suddenly Grit, who was in the pilot-house with Dick, ran out into the main cabin, and, looking from one of the windows, which he could do by jumping up in a chair, he began to bark violently.
"Well, what's the matter now?" demanded Dick. "Is it another fire?"
Grit barked so persistently that Dick called to Paul:
"See what ails him; will you? He must have caught sight of something out of the window."
"I should say he had!" yelled Paul, a moment later. "Here's a rival airship after us, Dick!"
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