“It’s a wonder it didn’t strike the tail and cripple us,” observed Dave, as he got out some tools and catgut, and had the defect remedied quickly. “I think that will last.”
A report officer of the service had strolled to the spot, and asked some questions which Dave answered.
“He’s writing down our names,” whispered Hiram to his comrade.
“All ready,” ordered Dave.
“Good luck!” shouted the officer after the ascending machine.
“I suppose it’s hopeless to think that we’re going to even make a showing in this race,” spoke Hiram disconsolately.
“I fancy you are right,” replied Dave as steadily as he could.
Hiram was in suspense and misery. About twenty miles further along they made out one of the laggard airships fighting its way against the wind. From its maneuvers it was easy to surmise that all its pilot was aiming at was to keep out of trouble.
“Out of the race and knows it,” commented Hiram. “I suppose it’s forty points more for the Whirlwind.”
Dave said nothing. He was thinking of the possible disappointment of Mr. Brackett. He speeded the Ariel to its best pace, but had no hope now of reaching the International grounds first.