Bob followed the mechanician up a small gangplank, and, stooping over, managed to get inside the car. It was so dark that for a few moments he was compelled to grope his way, guided only by the movements of Kindale’s shadowy form in advance.
“You’ll soon be able to see,” remarked the latter, cheerfully. “Don’t be skeered; there ain’t no holes to drop through. Kind o’ cozy, ain’t it?”
“I should say so,” said Bob. “Must be great to fly, and have all the comforts of home.”
His conductor laughed, and proceeded to raise several sections of the water-proof fabric which enclosed the car. Bob saw that they wound upon a series of rollers.
“The engine,” said Kindale, pointing it out.
“A fine one; and mighty powerful—I can see that,” returned Bob.
“It is; beats the engine of your aeroplane all hollow. In the rear we have a place to store provisions an’ water. Come up front.”
Bob noted that everything about the car was handsomely finished, even to several seats ranged along the sides. A small table stood near the steering gear at the forward end.
The perfection of the “Border City’s” navigation apparatus was also very apparent. The highly polished surfaces of wheel, compass, chronometer and levers caught and held the rays of light which entered from the open end of the hangar. Charts and a barometer were arranged in convenient places. A high-power telescope was fastened to a stand close by.
“It’s simply stunning!” cried Bob. “Not a thing lacking, I’ll bet.”