“Oh, then wait until I throw in the rudder gears.”
The Comet, about which I will tell you more presently (that is, you boys who have had no previous acquaintance with her), could be navigated as a dirigible balloon by means of a powerful lifting-gas stored in reservoirs, or she could sail as a biplane, her powerful propellers sending her along on the principle of all “heavier than air” machines.
While waiting for Ned to adjust the machinery, so that the change from one form to the other could be made, Jerry glanced down toward the heaving waters above which the Comet had been sailing, and amid the waves of which had appeared the strange object that had excited the curiosity of the boys. It was still there, plowing slowly through the water, but the air craft was so high up that a good view could not be had of it.
“All ready!” called Ned from the motor room.
Jerry was about to shut off the supply of gas, sending it into the compressors where it could not exert a lifting force, and had stretched his hand toward the lever of the deflecting rudder, when Bob cried:
“Say, I’ve got an idea! Why didn’t we think of it before, fellows?”
“What is it?” asked Jerry, pausing in his intended operations.
“The telescope,” replied Bob. “We can get a view of the mysterious beast with that, and won’t have to go down at all. I’ll get it,” and he started toward a locker.
“Oh, never mind,” said Jerry. “As long as we’re ready we might as well go down anyhow. Besides, only one of us can use the glass at a time. If we get the Comet near enough we can all see. Let her go, Ned.”