Then they had perceived the red glare of the fire on the night sky. Certain then that something serious was wrong, Tom took it upon himself to get up the anchors and fly to the rescue. Little did he imagine, however, he confessed, what dire straits his friends were in.
“We owe you a great debt of gratitude, you and Ned Bangs, for your prompt and brave action,” warmly declared Professor Chadwick.
That the others heartily seconded the motion may be imagined. In fact, as they all realized to the full, they owed their lives directly to Tom Jesson’s pluck and brains and his able assistant, Ned Bangs. Jupe, too, came in for his share of praise, for the old colored man had behaved in the great emergency through which they had passed, with remarkable coolness and ability.
As Tom concluded his story. Jack glanced at the barograph. They had risen to three thousand feet, and were moving in a westerly direction. So engrossed had they all been in discussing their wonderful escape, that they had really hardly noticed in what course they were sailing.
“I think it’s time that we decided on a destination,” said Jack, as he noted these things.
“Why not try for Lone Island?” said Mr. Jesson. “The Sea King should be there, and——”
Jack shook his head.
“The Flying Road Racer couldn’t fly as far as that?” asked Captain Andrews, who had been glancing about him at all points of the compass while this talk was going on.
“She could fly as far as that under normal conditions,” was the reply; “but not with such a load on board. We are using up fuel at twice the usual rate, and might have to descend to make more gas for running purposes.”
“Can’t we refill the reservoir in mid-air?”