“Why not?”
“Because there’s a good stiff breeze, and it will carry us several miles yet. We want to make all the distance we can.”
Her own motive power having given out, the Comet was now carried forward by the wind. The motor ship proved a good craft, even under these conditions, but toward afternoon the wind died away, and after taking an observation through the telescope and seeing a good-sized town a few miles ahead, Mr. Glassford depressed the elevation rudder and opened the gas valves.
Down, down, down, on a long slant, started the airship, after her lengthy voyage. She was at such an elevation that the slanting descent carried the craft to the very center of the town, the inhabitants flocking out by hundreds to see the wonderful sight.
Mr. Glassford so manipulated the aeroplanes that the Comet landed almost as gently as a feather. Then, in order that it might not take flight again when the passengers alighted, all the gas was let out of the bag. The motor ship’s voyage was over for the time being.
“Where ye from, strangers?” cried a big man as he pushed his way through the throng that had gathered about the airship.
“From Park Haven, Indiana,” replied Mr. Glassford. “Ours is one of the ships that took part in the race. Have you seen any others out this way?”
“Nary a one, stranger, and we don’t want to see any more. It pretty nigh frightened all our people to death, and half the hosses in town bolted when ye come sailin’ down from the sky.”
“Where are we?” asked Mr. Glassford.
“Albemarle, Texas.”