“We’re off!” cried Harry, as a quiver ran through the craft, and the motor roared from its exhausts, emitting clouds of mingled flame and blue smoke.
“Yes; off on a fight for fame and fortune!” cried Frank, as Dr. Perkins threw in the clutch; and, with her propellers beating the air so rapidly that they were a mere blur, the Sea Eagle shot skyward.
In half an hour’s time, to the watchers on the island, the aërial craft had dwindled to a mere dot in the distant sky, and five minutes later she vanished from view. The boys gave many backward looks as they winged away from Brig Island. Despite their adventures, they had spent many pleasant days there, and it appeared to them to be almost a second home. Of all that they were to experience before returning to the island they little dreamed at the moment, but their hearts beat high with exultation as the Sea Eagle winged her way southward at forty miles an hour, and about five hundred feet above the ocean.
They had been in the air about an hour when they encountered a situation which may become common enough before many years have passed, but which was an exciting novelty to them. Off on the horizon a liner was sighted, steaming toward the American coast. Before long they made her out to be a big, two-funneled craft, painted black, and with numerous decks rising above her shapely hull.
“One of the transatlantic liners that make Portland their terminal,” decided Dr. Perkins.
“Shall I wireless them?” said Harry.
“Yes, do so. It will be an interesting experiment, and besides will show how the apparatus will work.”
Harry lost no time in getting to work. After a brief interval he “raised” the operator on the liner, Dr. Perkins keeping the Sea Eagle swinging in big, lazy circles while he did so.
“We sighted you from the bridge half an hour ago,” flashed the operator, “who and what are you?”
“The hydro-aëroplane Sea Eagle, bound from Maine for New Orleans. Who are you?” flashed back Harry.