It was a shot from the men of the dirigible.
"They are firing after us," exclaimed Billy.
"They can fire all they want to if they come as wide of the mark as that," said Frank; "they are shooting at random to scare us."
A few seconds later they gained the side of the Golden Eagle and, worn and harried as they were, they could not forbear setting up a cheer as they found that the aeroplane was in perfect shape.
Hastily they cranked the Golden Eagle motor up, blue flame and sharp reports bursting from her exhausts as they did so. The engine was working perfectly,—every cylinder taking up its work as the sparks began to occur rhythmically.
"We've put the fat in the fire now," exclaimed Frank, as he took his seat at the steering wheel. "If they could not locate us before, the noise of the exhaust and the blue flame will betray us to them."
"Well, it can't be helped," shouted Harry, above the roar of the engine. "We've got to get every ounce of power out of her to-night."
The other lad nodded and as he did so a sound like a bee in flight fell on the adventurers' ears—a bullet.
It was followed by several reports.
"They've got the range," cried Harry.