All the time bands were playing, banners flying, and a vast concourse of people had gathered. There was a speech from the president of the National Aero Association, with the contestants to the fore. The young airman and his friends went down the line, looking over the various machines that were to take part in the event. Each one bore a numeral, and had some distinctive mark that gave it a clear identity.
“We are number three,” said Hiram. “That was always my lucky number. I went to school three years, got licked three times before I left and worked three years on the farm. This is the third big event I’ve had anything to do with, there are three of us——”
“Three cheers for number three!” cried Elmer. “There’s father beckoning to me. No, he wants us all, fellows.”
Our hero and the aero manufacturer had talked over all business details earlier in the morning. The kind-hearted Mr. Brackett, however, could not see his proteges start out on a long and perilous flight without a few words of fatherly counsel. He gave them some sensible advice, and Dave fancied he looked with considerable pride at Elmer. It was with satisfaction that the indulgent father compared the present courageous ambitions of his son with the useless life the prodigal had once led.
A bell was rung at the grandstand. This was the half-hour preparation signal. The airmen now proceeded to their machines. The scene became one of lively activity and gay colors. The Comet, neat, compact and perfect, showed up for the beautiful piece of mechanism it was in the clear, dazzling sunlight. Its crew, nattily attired, seemed to fit into a pleasing natural picture.
There was no expectation of a general uniform start when the second bell rang. With the long perilous journey before them, it was a matter of small consequence starting on the moment. Some of the aeroplanes, in fact, would not be in line for some hours to come. Ever ready at the business call, however; always on time as a matter of principle, the young pilot of the Comet wasted no time. Number three was the first to leave the field, and got all the first overflow of cheers and enthusiasm. Until a course due northwest was attained, Elmer and Hiram sat waving to the little group outside of their abandoned hangar. Mr. Brackett kept them in sight until the Comet was a fading blur, a mere speck in the far distance. The splendid machine struck its best gait staunchly, steadily, leaving a gasoline trail behind.
The boys had talked so much over the trip—they understood the Comet so well, that everything went like clockwork. Elmer had charge of the maps and charts. Hiram insisted on being purser extraordinary. All hands were prepared for any emergency that might arise.
The Aero Association had mapped out the general route the contestants were to pursue. None was tied to rigid rules, however, outside of reporting at certain stations. All this had been arranged by letter and cable. The first reporting stop was to be made at Chicago, the next at Winnipeg. Between all reporting points, the contestants could follow their own route. They could land when they chose. Each one, however, must report at the stations designated and secure the credentials necessary to prove that he was still in the race.
The route chart showed towns and cities where an aero club or interested airman could be located. These would also answer as repair and supply stations. Even in foreign countries, so far as could be arranged, the contestants would be able to locate friends and receive succor or assistance as needed.
“We are going to blaze a great international trail,” observed Hiram, proudly.