“That is, if we get through all right,” remarked Elmer.
“Oh, we’ve got to do that,” proclaimed his light and airy comrade. “The Comet was made to do it. I wonder how many of the others will even reach Canada?”
“There were twelve entries,” spoke their pilot. “I will say, a finer lot of machines never started a flight. Of course they won’t all get through.”
“It will be kind of lonesome when we get pretty well scattered, and trailing over some desert or water waste, way out of range of civilization; eh, fellows?” suggested Elmer.
The Comet made a non-stop run of nearly two hundred miles. It was mid-afternoon when they descended half-way across a high mountain range. Dave went all over the machine and Elmer oiled and cleaned up the bearings. Hiram gathered some scraps for a little fire, and they had hot coffee, as well as ham broiled on long forks, and the rest of a really good meal.
Then there was a pleasant chat, some exercise, and they were all aboard again and driving through a brief mountain rainstorm, coming into clear weather beyond.
Before dusk Hiram reported four competitors visible through his field glass. Two of them came pretty near to the Comet, and one signalled them. Then their routes deviated, and after a second landing the boys got ready for a six-hour steady night run.
About two o’clock in the morning they landed in a convenient field. The register showed four hundred and ninety-two miles accomplished in a little less than fourteen hours, almost straight flying.
It was late in the afternoon of the day following that the Comet came to a stop on the aero grounds just outside of Chicago. From having been there before and from their description chart, Dave was able to locate the place readily.
No meet was on at the time, but enthusiastic brother airmen were on hand expecting an arrival. Amid cheers and warm hand clasps, the tired crew of the Comet were greeted royally.