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Updated: July 7, 2025
But fortunately there was no need to use weapons then, for Sanborn's idea was overruled, and from the position in which the air-ship hovered she could not spy the aeroplane. "No; come on, let's get back," urged Malvoise; "there is something wrong with one of the cylinders and I want to fix it before we tackle the job of taking off the treasure."
The attention of the crowd, therefore, naturally centered on the two rivals as they were universally conceded to be the Golden Eagle and the Buzzard. There was no difficulty in telling the craft apart, as they circled about high above the now crowded grounds. The spirit of emulation seemed to have seized on Malvoise.
"Why, he has a nasty cut," replied Frank, who had hastily examined it, "but I think it is only a flesh wound. He'll pull through, never fear. You are a relative of his, miss?" "I am his daughter," exclaimed the girl. At this moment, Malvoise, who had checked the Buzzard and dismounted, hastened up. His face was livid and his hands shook as though with palsy.
"No violence now, Malvoise," he croaked; "we can use other means. I really think we shall have to use another method to bring this young man to his senses. First of all, however, search him, he may have papers on him that concern our project." But a search of Billy's clothes revealed no paper that threw any light on the Boy Aviators' plans, and the baffled plotters looked their rage.
So the Barr party had encamped on an island; doubtless one of the numerous little keys that abound in those waters and which, had they water on them which few have are ideal spots. "That's my idea, Sanborn," went on Malvoise, "come, shall I put her about and sail back?" "Let's circle the ship first," exclaimed Sanborn.
The two conversed in low tones, though it was easy to see that the old man was in a violent rage. "I tell you the Buzzard must win," he concluded, after storming at Malvoise for an accident that had really been no fault of his. "I've put up a $50,000 plant for the manufacture of aeroplanes of her type and I've got to have that cup in order to sell them." "I told you, Mr.
"Yes yes," broke in Malvoise impatiently; "but can she last out?" "I do not know," came the reply of the other. "It is much to ask of any dirigible to last out such a storm. See," he turned the light on to the wind-gauge it showed a pressure of sixty miles an hour, "it is a wonder to me she has not been torn apart," he declared.
All at once a sharp whistle sounded from a tube placed so that it was close to the helmsman's ear. "A signal from the engine-room," cried Malvoise, "answer it." "Hullo!" called Frank, turning back the whistler at the mouth of the tube. Then he placed his ear to it. "Two cylinders are missing fire," came the hail, "to make repairs we shall have to stop the engine."
"Something will have to be done," he shouted to Malvoise, "if we keep on going higher the air will soon be so rarefied that we shall be unable to breathe." "Set your dropping planes," shouted Malvoise, above the turmoil. "I have tried to," yelled back Frank, "but she won't drop unless the engine forces her ahead faster. The wind is stronger than we are." "Let out the gas," suggested Harry.
So fast was the hurricane now driving the gas-bag ahead that the sub-structure lagged behind, straining at its confining stays and braces. All at once Harry gave a cry and sank to the floor of the pilot-house. Malvoise, the next instant, hastened to the deck and cried: "Air, air!" Frank felt a warm liquid streaming from his nose and ears. He put up his hand. It came away stained red.
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