They all looked ahead and downward. The Abaris, surely enough, was headed for a stream of water.
"Perhaps you'd better handle her," said Dick to the builder of the craft. "We don't want her wrecked before we at least have a START after that prize."
Mr. Vardon nodded, and took the wheel from Paul. A few seconds later he had brought the craft to the ground within a few feet of the edge of the stream. Had it been a wider and deeper one they could have landed on it by using the hydroplanes, but the water seemed too shallow and full of rocks for that evolution.
And so skillfully had Mr. Vardon manipulated the planes and levers that the landing was hardly felt. A number of specially-made springs took up the jar.
"Well, we're here!" exclaimed Dick, as they all breathed in relief. "Now to see what the trouble was."
"And we've got a long walk back home, in case we can't find the trouble," sighed Innis, for he was rather stout, and did not much enjoy walking. They had come down several miles from Hamilton Corners.
"Oh, we'll get her fixed up somehow," declared Dick, with confidence.
Quite a throng had gathered from the little country hamlet, on the edge of which the aircraft had descended, and they crowded up about the Abaris, looking in wonder at her size and strange shape.
Mr. Vardon lost no time in beginning his hunt for the engine trouble, and soon decided that it was in the gasolene supply, since, though the tank was nearly full, none of the fluid seemed to go into the carburetor.
"There's a stoppage somewhere," the aviator said. The fluid was drawn off into a reserve tank and then the cause of the mischief was easily located.