“Well, I was the time when the professor nearly fell overboard trying to capture a queer insect,” said Jerry. “Don’t do anything like that again, please, Mr. Snodgrass,” he added.
“I’ll not,” agreed the scientist, who was trying to eat, and at the same time enter in his note book some observations about insects of the upper air.
Until the middle of the afternoon, the travelers flew along, high in the air. About three o’clock, when Ned was steering in the pilot house, there came a sudden gust of wind that heeled the airship over at a sharp angle.
“Quick! Try the lower currents!” called Jerry, from the engine room. “It may be quieter down near the earth.”
Ned shifted the deflecting rudder, and the Comet shot earthward on a long slant. As Jerry had predicted, it was more quiet there, the wind blowing gently.
Their course was now southwest, and, judging by the speed and the length of time they had been in motion, they figured that the airship was over Pennsylvania. As it raced along, about five hundred feet above the surface, and over a rather sparsely settled country, Bob, who was looking through a telescope, suddenly uttered a cry.
“What’s the matter?” asked Jerry.
“Why there’s a big crowd just ahead there,” replied the fat lad. “About two thousand people on the bank of a river. It looks as if something had happened.”