The Cibola was rising fast and the two air craft were coming closer and closer. As the dirigible reached the altitude at which the free balloon was sailing Ned put the aeroplane in operation, stopped the ascent of the Cibola and then, sweeping his own car into the same direction with the other balloon he reversed the propeller and held his own craft against the breeze until the stranger swept by.
Then, throwing on the propeller again at full speed, Ned made the Cibola bound after the other craft, and in a few minutes, aided by the favoring wind, they were within hailing distance.
Ned was on the bridge, his face flushed with the novelty of the race. A mile above the earth, the two air ships came closer until, as if running on parallel tracks, they were nearly together and abreast.
"Balloon ahoy!" exclaimed Ned at last and in true maritime style.
"The Arrow of Los Angeles, bound across the continent," came the sharp answer.
"The Cibola from Clarkeville, New Mexico," called Ned in reply, "exploring. Please report us over Mount Wilson."
Then the two ships of the sky came closer. The boys could see that the Arrow was well equipped for its purpose. Two determined looking aeronauts were leaning from the heavily laden car.
"Need anything?" shouted the Arrow cordially.
"In good shape," answered Ned, "but a little short on provisions."
"Plenty here," came quickly from the Arrow, "glad to exchange fifty-pound emergency rations for ballast."