"While we shall be beyond that city this afternoon," came the curt answer. "We must not delay longer, for though I calculate that the airship could circle the twenty-five thousand and odd miles which a trip round the world comprises in some seventeen to twenty days, yet there may be breakdowns——"
"Ah, yes, certainly! I hope not," said Carl swiftly.
"That's nice of you. But there may be, while we may desire to deviate a little. Indeed our trip will not take us along a straight line. We propose to take an oblique course, and therefore must make the most of every day that remains to us. Therefore we leave Hendon almost immediately."
"And pass Turin before the evening!" cried Carl aghast. Such rapid travel spelled catastrophy to him. "I—I—do you expect an accident?"
"An accident?"
"Yes; to your machine. Aeroplanes are notoriously dangerous. I—I—really think that I'll not——"
"Sorry, Mr. Reitberg," came Joe's curt answer. "But we must push ahead. If you wish to join us at all you must come now, and on the biplane."
The pompous city magnate put the telephone down with something approaching a groan. Indeed, his features were positively haggard, his fat cheeks hung flaccid, his mouth drooped, his eyes were bloodshot. He might, indeed, have been a condemned criminal. And then Adolf's sneering laughter stung him to some show of courage, or perhaps it was desperation.
"It is the only, the last chance," he said. "I'll go. I'll risk travel in this abominable machine. Herman!"
He tugged at the bell and shouted for his butler.