“I made it,” he spoke with difficulty. “Nearly went under, but I had set my mark—over eleven thousand feet.”
“You couldn’t! It’s ahead of any record! He’s dreaming!” blurted out Hiram.
“The barograph says so—I’ve won. I knew I should,” murmured Dave. “Get me somewhere to lie down. I’m weak and dizzy.”
“What’s that!” suddenly spoke Hiram, turning sharply as they were leading Dave over to the club house.
They were at a point where they could not see the blackboard. Hiram noticed a great crowd about it. Cheers rent the air. A man bolted from the mass, bareheaded, excited, rushing down the road wildly. Hiram recognized him as one of the Syndicate hangers-on.
“What is it?” was demanded of him by an inquisitive pedestrian.
“Record smashed!” came the breathless but triumphant reply. “Valdec has won—12,350 feet!”
CHAPTER XXI
“FIFTY POINTS”