“Let go!” Tom called to his new mechanician Sam Stone, who, with his helper, Jim Waldo, was to do most of the driving on the second lap of the journey. Of course Tom would take the wheel now and then to relieve the pilot, who was, necessarily, under a great strain.
The throttles were opened and the twin motors responded with a thundering volume of explosions which sent the Eagle across the field at ever increasing speed, carrying the car and its passengers with it. Then, like some great bird, true to her name, the Eagle rose into the air.
Chicago seemed to drop rapidly below the passengers as the plane mounted higher and higher, and her nose was pointed due west. Tom took anxious observations of the various gages, noted the increasing speed, and seemed well satisfied until he scanned the weather reports which one of his assistants handed him. They had just come in from the government observatory in Denver, and as Tom laid them back on the operator’s table there was a worried look on his face.
“What’s the matter?” asked Ned.
“There’s a report of storms ahead,” was the answer. “But we may be able to go above them. Strong head winds, the report says. They are likely to delay us. But we won’t worry until we have to. And now what do you say to something to eat, Ned?”
“I’m in favor of it,” was the answer. “We had breakfast a bit early,” which was true enough.
“Then tell Rad to serve up what he has,” directed the young inventor to another colored man who had been brought along to wait on the table, since Eradicate insisted on doing the cooking.
It was nothing new for Ned, Mr. Damon, and Tom to eat while traveling at high speed far above the earth. They had made many trips in dirigible balloons and other craft, sometimes remaining up almost a week at a time. But this was the first occasion where so much depended on long-continued speed, and the meal which was soon served was more or less interrupted as Tom left the table to ascertain what progress they were making.
On the whole, it was satisfactory. As hour after hour passed, the time being whiled away by communicating back to Shopton now and again—Tom holding his promised conversation with Mary—it began to look as if the great project would succeed. It was an hour after lunch when Tom, peering down toward earth through a pair of powerful binoculars, announced with exultation:
“There’s Denver!”