“I’ll be here on time, don’t you fret,” declared the castaway.
He and Dave parted when they reached the heart of the city. The young airman was back with his friends before noon. He had gotten in touch with Washington. What he learned made him more than anxious to resume the flight.
“We are third, fellows, so far as heard from, I am sorry to say,” he announced to his anxious comrades, and this put them in a great flutter.
“You don’t mean to say that any of the machines has reached goal?” cried Hiram, his heart sinking to his boots.
“No,” replied our hero; “but number seven was reported at Para yesterday. This morning number two was at Cayenne. They are hundreds of miles nearer home than we are.”
“Then it’s a run day and night from this on,” insisted Hiram, bustling about excitedly.
“It will have to be, if we expect to make good,” said Dave. “Mr. Hull has not returned yet?”
“Not a sign of him,” reported Elmer.
They were all busy for the next hour, getting things in shape for a speedy and sustained flight on the home stretch. Dave glanced at his watch.
“It is after noon,” he observed. “I don’t see how we can afford to wait any longer for Mr. Hull.”