Aided by a favorable wind, the Comet sailed on and on. Mr. Glassford was now running the motor to the limit of speed, as he wanted to cover as much ground as possible, and he knew that his gas would not last much longer and that his gasolene was getting low.
“We made two hundred and fifty miles to-day,” he announced one evening to the boys. “If we do as well to-morrow we shall have almost crossed Texas.”
After breakfast the next morning, Mr. Glassford made an inspection of various gages and registering instruments, and then came into the cabin. Jerry was in the tower, steering.
“Well, boys,” said the inventor. “I think we’ll land pretty soon.”
“Why?” asked Ned.
“Because we’re on the last pint of gasolene. I shall be content to drop down now. I think we have gone over a large extent of territory.”
There came a sort of gasp from the motor. The explosion suddenly ceased. Mr. Glassford hurried to the pilot house, but before he reached it Jerry called out:
“Gasolene’s gone. I guess we’ll have to go down, Mr. Glassford.”
“Wait a minute. Don’t open the gas valves, Jerry.”