He had to be helped from the machine, but, benumbed as he was with the cold, he was conscious of ringing cheers all about the aviation field.
Mr. Davis carried the barograph from the machine to the judges’ stand. Bob and some others led and carried Ben to the quarters of the Flyer.
Ben found it supreme luxury to repose on a couch. His lungs pained him, and he was so exhausted he dropped into profound sleep at once.
His next conscious moment was a recognition of the voice of Mr. Davis, saying:
“Let him sleep, he needs it.”
“But—such glorious news!” cried the tones of Bob Dallow.
“I am awake,” declared Ben, opening his eyes and sitting up. “What’s the glorious news?”
“Why,” said Mr. Davis with a beaming face, “the barograph says you have beaten the Flyer altitude record by three hundred feet. Hardy, you have won the five hundred dollar prize.”
CHAPTER XIX
“GO!”