"All clear," replied the balloonist, for the airship had now been wheeled back from the entanglement with the chimney.
"Then here we go!" cried Tom, as he and the aeronaut entered the craft, while Mr. Jackson descended through the scuttle.
There came a fiercer burst to the storm, and, amid a series of dazzling lightning flashes and the muttering of thunder, the airship rose from the roof. Tom switched on the search-light, and, starting the big propellers, guided the craft skillfully toward the big shed where it was housed when not in use.
With the grace of a bird it turned about in the air, and settled to the ground. It was the work of but a few minutes to run it into the shed. Then they all started for the house.
"Bless my umbrella! How it rains!" cried Mr. Damon, as he splashed on through numerous puddles. "We got back just in time, Mr. Sharp."
"Where did you go?" asked the lad.
"Why we took a flight of about fifty miles and stopped at my house in Waterfield for supper. Were you anxious about us?"
"A little when it began to storm," replied Tom.
"Anything new since we left?" asked Mr. Sharp, for it was the custom of himself, or some of his friends, to take little trips in the airship. They thought no more of it than many do of going for a short spin in an automobile.
"Yes, there is something new," said Mr. Swift, as the party, all drenched now, reached the broad veranda.