CHAPTER XXII
FIRE AT SEA
“Well, Dave, they stole a march on us last night.”
“How is that, Hiram?” questioned the young aviator.
“Landed. Yes, sir, the Albatross made a landing about midnight on the beach of some island—Bermuda or Bahama, or something like that. Last point of land this side of Europe, the professor says. Took on a fresh supply of water. Mr. King visited the town nearby and got some papers, and sent a message to the aero association.”
Hiram had just come from the cabin, preceding his comrade in waking up by a few minutes. When the two friends went to the cabin they found young Brackett waiting to take breakfast with them.
A few days had made a marked change in the new passenger of the Albatross. Everybody was pleasant and encouraging to him. He had become greatly interested in the workings of the airship. Dave had suggested to him that, owing to the fact that his father was a foremost manufacturer in the aeroplane line, he had a splendid opportunity to begin business life in the same field.
The Albatross had started out on its real voyage in fine shape, weather conditions being perfect. So far, except for the adventure among the mountain men of North Carolina, not one adverse incident had marred the flight.
The three friends chatted and joked buoyantly while dispatching their appetizing meal. Young Brackett had picked up one of the newspapers brought to the airship from the island just after midnight. He was looking it over casually, when he uttered a quick cry as of startled amazement.
“It’s not true!” he almost shouted, and he brought his fist down upon the table to emphasize the remark with such force that the dishes rattled.
“What’s not true, Brackett?” inquired the young aviator, in some surprise.