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Updated: May 26, 2025
Vardon, "but if we do, I think we can weather it." "How does the gyroscope stabilizer work?" asked Paul, who with Innis, had made Dick's house his home while the airship was being built. "It does better than I expected," replied the inventor. "I was a bit doubtful, on account of having to make it so much larger than my first model, whether or not it would operate.
Finally, after many hours of work, the last rivet was driven home, and Mr. Vardon cried: "There we are! Now then, full speed ahead!" The repaired propeller was thrown into gear. It meshed perfectly, and once more the Abaris shot ahead under her full power. "Speed her up!" cried Dick, and the motor was put to the limit. But much precious time had been lost.
"He's being used by that fellow Larson, I'm sure of that," declared Mr. Vardon. "Your Uncle Ezra has fallen into the hands of a scoundrel, Dick." "Well, I'm sorry for that, of course," said the young millionaire, "but, do you know, I think it will do Uncle Ezra good to lose some of his money. He's got more than he needs, and he can afford to spend some on aviation.
"Well, Dad, how are you?" cried Dick, as he greeted his father at the family mansion in Hamilton Corners. "Fine, my boy! There's no use asking how YOU are, I can see you are fine!" "Did Vardon and Jack get here? Have they started work?" Dick wanted to know. "Yes, I did just as you asked me to in your letter. I let them have the run of the place, and they've been busy ever since they came.
"I will, gladly," said Mr. Vardon. "I might as well admit that I have no further funds to pursue my experiments, though I am satisfied that I am on the right track. But my machine is wrecked." "Perhaps it can be raised," said the colonel, cheerfully. "We will talk about that later. And we may find a way to have you conduct your experiments here."
Vardon, and feed her heated gasolene." "That's the idea!" cried the aviator. "That ought to help some." The motor was so adjusted as to take heated gasolene, the liquid vaporizing and exploding better than when cold. The Abaris rushed on at increased speed. But so, also, came on behind her the other airship.
Quick!" cried Mr. Vardon. "Throw over the storage battery switch. That will run the lights until that shaft cools. It must have run out of oil." The dynamo was stopped and as the storage battery was not powerful enough to operate all the lights for very long, only part of the incandescents were used, so that the interior of the ship was only dimly lighted.
It increased in violence until, at ten o'clock, there was a howling gale, through which the airship had to fight her way with almost all her available power. "Some wind!" cried Dick, when he went on duty, and, glancing at the gage noted it to be blowing at seventy miles an hour. "Luckily it isn't altogether dead against us," said Mr. Vardon.
The Abaris seemed to have the lake to herself, though doubtless beyond the wall of the slight haze that hemmed her in there were other vessels. "Well, now to see what the trouble is," suggested Dick. "It must be somewhere in the connecting joints of the levers, for the rudder itself seems to be all right." "But we'd better begin out there and make sure," suggested Mr. Vardon.
It is never so bad but it might have been worse; it is never so bad but we are confident of doing better next time. And if the next stroke is good, what happiness fills our soul. How eagerly we tell ourselves that in a little while all our strokes will be as good. What does Vardon know of this?
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