The youngest Rover boy now had to give the Dartaway all of his attention. The breeze was coming in fitful gusts, sending the biplane first to one side and then to the other. They struck a "bank," and he had to use all his wit and courage to bring the flying machine to a level keel once more.
"Better go down!" cried Tom. "This is getting dangerous."
"Don't go down here!" sang out Dick. "There are woods on both sides of the track!"
Sam had been working the horizontal rudder, to bring the biplane down, but at Dick's words he shifted again and they went up.
"I'll tell you when we reach an open field," went on the oldest Rover. "Say, this sure is some blow!" he added.
Another fitful gust struck the Dartaway and for one brief moment it looked as if the biplane would be turned over. Had this occurred the machine would have dropped like a shot and most likely all of the boys would have been killed.
But Sam was on guard, and worked his levers like lightning. As quickly as she had tipped, the Dartaway righted herself, and then they shot upward on a long slant.
"Phew! that was some escape!" muttered Tom. "Dick, can't you see any open field where we can land?"
"Must be one ahead," was the answer. "I fancy——"
Dick did not finish, for at that moment came a blast of air stronger than any that had gone before. The Dartaway spun around, left the railroad tracks, made a semi-circle, and then came back again. As it made the final turn there was a crack like that of a pistol.