CHAPTER XXXI
THE FINISH
They were not beaten yet! The wind whistled, shrieked, and roared as it swept aft along the smooth body of the Sky-Bird. The propeller whirred, and the engines purred like two huge twin cats. So great were the noises combined that the voice was completely overwhelmed, and no effort was made by the flyers to talk with one another.
With their pulses beating wildly and hearts thumping in accord, they watched the hazy streak on the horizon line ahead rapidly develop into the unmistakable rugged form of land. As they drew closer, they could even see the glint of water on the other side, and knew without the shadow of doubt that what they were looking at was the long belt of earth connecting the two Americas—the Isthmus of Panama itself. And down their backs ran a new thrill at the recognition.
Larger and larger loomed the brown and green strip in advance. Presently, amid the checker-board of nature's colorations, they could make out a bay and on a tongue of land a considerable collection of buildings. It was Panama City! Five minutes later they could even distinguish the American flag—how glorious the sight!—fluttering at the staffhead of the courthouse, and could see the streets and ships in the harbor thronged with people who were evidently waiting to welcome them.
The excitement of the throngs increased as the airplane drew closer. People jumped up and down, yelled, and waved their hats. It had been only a few minutes before that Bob had received the radio admonition from the Panama station; "Town gone wild; but hurry in. You only have six minutes left!"
Now they were circling high over the heads of the populace, with one engine shut off and the speed of the other much reduced. In graceful, pretty circles the Sky-Bird began to spiral her way downward, John's eyes fastened upon the big white T of the familiar airdrome. As they came down, people in the outlying districts rushed madly toward the field, and the streets everywhere were choked with the concourse pouring toward the center of attraction.
Scores of others had previously posted themselves in the airdrome; but all were kept back by a cordon of ropes and a guard of Zone policemen. Inside of the barrier were a favored few Government officials and distinguished personages, newspaper men, photographers, and Mr. Giddings and Mr. Wrenn themselves. Colonel Hess, the judge of the contest, was also present, ready to receive the flyers' affidavits of stops.
As the flyers stepped out of their machine many a camera clicked, and the air was filled with the cheers of the multitude.
Colonel Hess stepped quickly up. In one hand was a watch; the other was extended.