The Boy Aviators' Treasure Quest Part 31

Frank felt a warm liquid streaming from his nose and ears. He put up his hand. It came away stained red. Even tough old Ben Stubbs felt the baleful effect of the high alt.i.tude.

"I'll be hornswoggled if I can stand this much longer," he gasped out to Frank.

"Can you take the wheel?" replied the young aviator. Ben nodded.

"Then take it. I'm going to get this s.h.i.+p down."

Frank reeled from the pilot-house on to the deck. He almost stumbled over the body of Malvoise as he did so. It lay as inanimate as in death where it had been thrown against the railing by the impact of the s.h.i.+p's wild swaying.

"You'll go overboard if you're not careful," Frank found himself saying in a voice he hardly recognized as his own.

Making his way aft the lad encountered the red-headed sailor, Wells.

"Oh, sir, what is happening?" gasped the poor fellow.

"We've gone too high," replied Frank, every word cutting his chest as if a knife had been plunged into it. "Where's the valve cord?"

"Aft there, sir, it's belayed to the starboard rail."

As he spoke the man pitched forward as if he had been shot and lay inanimate on his face.

CHAPTER XXIV.

THE INVENTOR'S TREACHERY.

Weak almost as a baby, Frank made his way to the stern of the navigating deck, and with what seemed the last ounce of strength in his body he gave the cord a feeble yank.

It resisted and the boy tugged once more.

Still it stuck.

Mustering his strength to keep on his feet a minute longer, the boy tied the cord to his wrist. Then, as he fell forward in the swoon that he knew must ensue, the cord tightened under the weight of his body and yielded.

The dirigible with an unconscious crew aboard plunged on through the night, but every moment exhausted more gas from her bags and the craft gradually dropped till she had reached an alt.i.tude where the air was breathable.

Frank was the first to stir. He discovered at once that the air-s.h.i.+p's drop must have been considerable and hastened to close the valve which connected by a tube with each one of the gas part.i.tions. The dirigible's fall was checked in this way and the lad made his way forward.

By this time a sickly dawn had arisen and although it was still blowing hard the full fury of the hurricane had distinctly moderated.

The dirigible, however, was clearly beyond all control and Frank, after a glance into the engine-room, where the engineer lay insensible beside his machines, started for the pilot-house.

At its threshold he stopped with a cry of surprise.

The railing, against which he had left Malvoise lying, gaped open raggedly for a s.p.a.ce of several feet, as if a heavy body had plunged through it. A brief examination showed the boy some bits of cloth still clinging to the rough ends of the shattered rail, indicating plainly enough that the doomed Frenchman had been hurled into empty s.p.a.ce while the storm was at its height and they all lay senseless.

Undoubtedly his body had been rolled by a lurch of the s.h.i.+p in toward the cabin and then been cast outward again by a reverse swing. The railing, none too strong at best, had evidently not been capable of withstanding the impact and the Frenchman's body had been hurled through into the void.

Shuddering at the thought of such an end, Frank aroused his brother and Ben and then went aft to inspect the engine-room. He found that of the eight cylinders only five were doing their work, and a brief examination showed why. The insulation on three of the spark plugs had cracked and it was not before he had done a lot of rummaging around that the boy found spare ones stored in a locker.

By this time the engineer, who seemed a decent enough fellow, and told Frank his name was d.i.c.k Richards, had recovered and helped the boy fit the new sparkers to the motor. First, however, Frank had hailed Harry through the tube leading to the pilot-house.

"How high are we?" he asked.

"A thousand feet," came back the reply.

"All right," shouted Frank back. "I guess the wind has moderated enough now for us to drift for a while. I am going to stop the engine."

The machinery accordingly was brought to a standstill and Frank and the engineer set busily to work placing the new sparkplugs and wiring them up.

This completed, Frank hailed Harry once more.

"I'm going to start up."

"All right. I'm looking out," came the reply.

The compressed air apparatus that started the engines was put in operation and the engine was soon working as if nothing had happened.

"Say, you are an all right mechanic," was d.i.c.k Richards' admiring tribute to Frank's skill.

By noon the last traces of the hurricane had died out and the dirigible was driving forward over a sparkling sea with a cloudless sky overhead. After breakfast, in which the now resuscitated members of the crew and Constantio took part, Frank called them forward and told them of the fate of Malvoise. None of them seemed particularly grieved, as the man had undoubtedly been a hard taskmaster.

"You are captain of this s.h.i.+p now," said Constantio to Frank. "I am only her inventor and have already received from Luther Barr the full purchase price. I have deposited it in a bank in New York. In this treasure they are hunting I have no interest. All I want to do is to invent air-s.h.i.+ps."

Constantio had recognized Ben Stubbs as soon as he set eyes on him, and laughed with apparent good nature at the recollection of their meeting in Boston. He had recovered the watch the little gamin got away with, he told them, and had never mentioned to Luther Barr the fact that Ben had inspected the air-s.h.i.+p and then escaped, for fear of the grim old millionaire's wrath.

"When he is mad he is like one volcano," he declared volubly.

Breakfast over, they skimmed along through the air till noon, when Frank took an observation with the ill-fated Malvoise's instruments.

"We ought to be falling in soon with one of the Bahama group of islands," he announced. "We were not driven so far as I thought, and if we can make a landing we ought to be able to effect repairs and then fly for land. We certainly cannot go much further on the supply of gas we now have, the s.h.i.+p is getting lower all the time."

This was indeed the fact. With her heavy load and reduced supply of gas the air-s.h.i.+p was rapidly decreasing the s.p.a.ce between herself and the sea.

During the afternoon the water tanks were emptied, which lightened the s.h.i.+p considerably, but left the voyagers only a small supply of the fluid, which was likely to prove serious if they did not find land soon. By supper time it became necessary also to tear out some of the heavy cabin fittings and cast them away.

By early the next day, after a restless night, the s.h.i.+p had settled so much, despite the lightening process, that she rode soggily along at not more than fifty feet above the level of the sea. The situation was indeed a serious one.

Suddenly there came a hail from Ben, who was standing at the bow of the craft.

"Land ho!"

The adventurers crowded forward.

There, sure enough, dead ahead of them, was what looked like a tiny blue cloud on the horizon, but which Ben's practiced eye had told him was land. With new heart the voyagers drove on and by mid-afternoon were in sight of the island, which on closer view proved to be one of those small palm-crowned atolls that are common enough in these waters.