"The cunning old rascal!" he exclaimed. "I see his little game now. He's completing the final stage by aeroplane. I suppose by this time he's won the Chauvasse Prize; but I don't envy him."
"Will you enter a protest, sir?" asked Peter.
"Protest? Not much," replied the baronet, emphatically. "These seventeen Huns can do the protesting if they want to, and I rather fancy they will."
"There's many a slip," quoted Kenyon. "He may not complete the course after all."
[CHAPTER XXIII--A DUMPING OPERATION]
The heavily-laden "Golden Hind" resumed her delayed journey. Both gas-bags and planes had to do their full share of work to keep the airship afloat. She was flying low, but making good progress; but so little was her reserve of buoyancy that had the three Huns who perished in the catastrophe to Z64 been saved, it was doubtful whether Fosterdyke could have "carried on."
To make matters worse, some of the patches on the repaired ballonets were leaking, for owing to the heat of the rubber the solution was not holding well.
"I wonder if Drake's 'Golden Hind,' when she arrived in the Thames after circumnavigating the globe, was patched up like we are," remarked Kenyon. "It took Drake three long years to do the trick, and we look like completing our voyage in under seventeen days."
"If the old 'bus holds out," added Bramsdean. "'Tany rate, no one can say we haven't done our bit. The 'Golden Hind's' been a regular sort of aerial lifeboat. That is some satisfaction. I'd rather we did that than win the race."
"I suppose our passengers won't get up to any of their Hunnish tricks?" observed Kenneth.