It was a beautiful August morning. A mighty crowd thronged the streets of Readestown to get a look at the air-ship as it mounted in the air.
None of them were disappointed.
Exactly at the hour named the Spectre leaped upward into the clouds. The people cheered and the bands played and cannon roared. And away sailed the Spectre.
Into space she sped, every moment growing smaller, until soon she was lost to sight altogether.
The great journey was begun.
The voyagers were destined to meet with many thrilling adventures ere they should see home again. What these were it will be our duty to chronicle.
“Begorra, she sails foine!” said Barney with delight, as he trimmed the course of the air-ship a bit; “she’ll niver be beat, Misther Frank!”
“I think myself that she sails well,” said the critical young inventor. “I shall not try to beat her this year.”
“Golly, Marse Frank, yo’ don’t hab no need ter,” declared Pomp; “she am good fo’ a long voyage, sah!”
“Begorra, phwere is it we will be afther meetin’ the other man?” asked Barney.