“But I didn’t get my flying lizard,” he complained. “Still, I have hopes.”
They started again, early the next morning, and Jerry set the motor at a good speed to make up for lost time. Toward evening, of the second day, when they had crossed the extreme end of a range known as the Magollon Mountains, and were sailing over a wide valley, Bob suddenly called out:
“Doesn’t that place look familiar, down there?” He pointed to a small settlement. Jerry seized the telescope from his chum, and applied it to his eye.
“It does!” he announced excitedly. “That’s the settlement near our mine. We ought to sight our diggings in a few minutes.”
“Go lower down,” advised Ned.
Jerry shifted the deflecting rudder, and, a moment later, the Comet was nearing the earth. There could now be observed numbers of miners running about, and pointing upward. Nearer and nearer to the earth came the airship. Then Ned cried:
“There it is! There’s the place. I see the hut we used to live in, when we opened the mine! Hurrah! We’re here at last, fellows!”
“And ready to solve the mystery of the valley,” added Jerry in a low voice.
“There’s some one waving at you,” remarked the professor, pointing to a man who was vigorously swinging his hat.
“Jim! It’s old Jim Nestor!” cried Bob, who had good eyes. “Jim is waiting for us!”