The Motor Boys Over the Ocean; Or, A Marvelous Rescue in Mid-Air

by Clarence Young

  CHAPTER XXII

  TO THE RESCUE

  Silence greeted the reading of the message--silence at first, and then,as the import of the appeal came home to the crowd, there were murmursof surprise and despair.

  "Blown out to sea!" exclaimed Jerry. "How could they be over the oceanso soon after leaving here? They must have travelled at a terrificrate."

  "You forget," said Bob, "that we're within a few miles of New York, andnot far from the sea. It's only a short distance to the ocean."

  "That's right," agreed Ned. "And if they're in a hurricane of the upperair they may be swept along for several days."

  "But we must help them!" exclaimed Professor Snodgrass, who hadtemporarily abandoned his pursuit after specimens and had joined hisfriends in the crowd. "They have appealed to us all for aid."

  "That's right!" cried several. "We must go to the rescue. We must sendout a relief expedition. Notify the naval authorities, and have a swifttorpedo boat sent out to pick them up in case they fall into the sea.All ship captains should be notified by wireless."

  "I'll attend to that part of it," promised the wireless operator whowas stationed on the aviation grounds.

  "But in which direction are they being blown?" asked Jerry. "Which wayshould the ships look for them? Did the message say?"

  The operator shook his head.

  "It just says that they are being blown out to sea," he replied.

  "Quick!" cried Ned. "Get into communication with them again! Call themon the wireless and ask which way they are being blown."

  "That's it!" shouted several in the crowd.

  The operator made a jump for his instruments, and soon there wassnapping through the air of the wireless waves, directed toward therunaway and disabled balloon.

  There were several minutes of anxious waiting, while the cracklingsounds could plainly be heard, so quiet was it. Suddenly Ned uttered acry.

  "What's the matter?" asked Bob.

  "Mr. Jackson!" replied the merchant's son. "Mr. Jackson is on thatdisabled balloon. He is being blown out to sea and he may never berescued. Then my father's business will fail! Oh, what luck--whatfearful luck we've had since we set out to find him! We can't seem toget in touch with him, and every day's delay makes it worse for poordad!"

  "By Jove!" exclaimed Jerry, "that's so! I forgot for the moment that weneed to see Mr. Jackson, and he's on that balloon, over the ocean. Iguess----"

  Jerry was interrupted by the reappearance of the wireless operator.There was a despondent look on the man's face.

  "Did you hear from them?" cried Bob.

  The man shook his head.

  "It's of no use," he answered. "I called and called, and finally I didmanage to pick them up; I started to ask them their direction, buttheir operator broke in on me."

  "What did he say?" demanded Jerry.

  "Just one word," was the answer, "just one word--'help!' That's all."

  Once more came an ominous silence.

  "Well, why don't we send help?" suddenly asked a man in the throng."Here we are at a balloon and aviation meet, and one of the aircraftneeds help. There are several balloons on hand, and any number ofaeroplanes. Why don't some of them start out to sea, and try to findMr. Jackson and his crowd?"

  "That's the stuff! Go to the rescue!" was the general cry.

  It was a most practical suggestion, but when it came to the matter ofapplying it, trouble developed at once. Inquiries were made among theseveral balloonists and aviators as to which craft would be the best tosend to aid the unfortunate men, who might, perhaps, even then, be indanger of death.

  "Send the big balloon _North America_," said the man who had made thesuggestion.

  "I can't go in her," replied the pilot of the aircraft. "Mine isn't adirigible, and I'm at the mercy of the wind when I get up. An aeroplaneis what you need."

  "There's the _New Yorker_!" came from several, and they started towardthe shed where a large biplane, capable of carrying four passengers,was housed.

  "No use," answered the owner of that craft. "I wouldn't dare go overthe ocean in her."

  "Why not?" asked Ned eagerly. For more reasons than one he wanted tosee Mr. Jackson rescued.

  "In the first place, my craft is not reliable enough," was the reply."I might take a tumble into the sea myself. Then, again, I can'tcarry gasolene enough for a long flight, and, even if I did sight the_Manhattan_ I couldn't do the people on her any good."

  "Why not?" again demanded the man who had made the suggestion. "Didn'tthe steamer _Trent_ rescue Wellman and his crew from the dirigibleballoon _America_ at sea?"

  "They did," was the reply, "but the _Trent_ could come to a stop. Ican't come to a stop without falling into the sea. What is needed is aballoon or aeroplane that can remain stationary in the air."

  As if by common consent the eyes of nearly every person in the crowdwere turned toward the motor boys. Their craft which had been putthrough her paces that day, travelling on the water as well as throughthe air--which had come to a halt while nearly a mile high and hadfloated as easily as a feather--that craft--the _Comet_ seemed to offera solution of the problem. The boys felt it themselves, and perhapsonly their modesty had prevented them from offering their servicesbefore.

  "Say!" cried the man who seemed to have taken charge of matters, "Iguess it's up to you boys! Will you go to the rescue?"

  He addressed himself to Jerry. The tall lad glanced at his companions.They nodded their heads in assent. As for Professor Snodgrass there wasan eager look on his face.

  "Go! Go!" he whispered to Jerry. "It's the very chance I need to get mysinging fish."

  Jerry hesitated but a moment longer.

  "Very well," he answered, "we'll go."

  "Good!" cried the man who had taken the initiative. Later the boyslearned that he was Mr. Durkin, manager of the meet. "That's the way totalk, boys! Here we have a whole lot of aircraft, and only one reallyfit for practical work. Now, then, how about gasolene? Have you enoughfor a big trip? There's no telling how long you may be gone. Thoseupper-air hurricanes sometimes last for a week."

  "We'll need to refill our gasolene tanks," said Jerry.

  "Then we'll attend to that part for you," said Mr. Durkin. "There arehundreds of gallons of the stuff here on the grounds. You look overyour motor and machinery. It won't do to have it break down. How aboutprovisions?"

  "Enough for a month!" cried Bob, and when his chums laughed the crowdwondered why. But for once Bob had the advantage, and he knew it. Onlyfor the stocking of the craft with a big supply of food would it bepossible to go on a long trip. And had it not already been aboard therewould have been a long delay.

  "Well, fellows, if we're going, we'd better see to the _Comet_,"proposed Jerry. "Come on, hustle! Professor Snodgrass----"

  "Right here!" cried the little scientist eagerly. "I'll do anything yousay. Oh, to think that at last we are to go to sea where I may get mysinging fish! What shall I do?"

  He was anxious to help, and for the time being forgot all aboutgathering ordinary specimens. Jerry mentioned several tasks which thelittle man could well attend to.

  Soon there were busy scenes about the _Comet_. Gasolene was beingpoured into her reserve tanks. Bob took a last look at the provisions,and added several boxes and packages of food that kind friends offered.At Mr. Durkin's suggestion some medicines were taken along, also someplanks and ropes to be used in the possible rescue.

  Jerry and Ned went over the machinery, and found that it was all right.Not a bolt was strained, not a nut loosened. The _Comet_ was fit tomake a flight half way across the Atlantic if need be.

  "Well, I guess we're about ready to start," announced Jerry, aftera last look over the machinery. There were many offers of help frompersons in the crowd, but there was little they could do. Many alsobegged to be taken on the rescue trip, but these, of course, had to berefused.

  "The sooner we get started the better," spoke Ned, as he started on arun across the aviation grounds.

  "Where
you going?" called Jerry.

  "To send a message to dad. I want to tell him where we are going, andthe reason why I haven't been able to get in touch with Mr. Jackson."

  "That's a good idea. Send word to my folks, and to Bob's also."

  "Sure!" called back Ned.

  Soon a message was being flashed to his father, and to the other folksin Cresville. While waiting for a reply from his parent, Ned suggestedto the operator that he try once again to get into communication withthe _Manhattan_.

  Through space the wireless messages clicked, but silence was the onlyanswer.

  "It's of no use," said the operator gloomily. "They may all be deadnow."

  Ned, too, felt the seriousness of the situation, but he was not goingto give up so soon. Once more the instruments clicked.

  "It's a message for you," spoke the operator. Ned read the dots anddashes, for he and his chums could both send and receive wireless andordinary telegraphic messages.

  "Go ahead," wired Mr. Slade to his son. "We all send our best wishes toyou boys. Do your best to see Mr. Jackson, Ned. Vitally necessary torescue him, for our own sakes. My business is in very poor shape. I amruined unless Mr. Jackson lends me his aid and influence. Get to him ifat all possible!"

  "And I will, too!" declared the merchant's son with a grim tighteningof his lips.

  He hurried back to where the _Comet_ waited but the movement of a leverto launch her into space and off to the rescue. Briefly Ned told hischums of the message.

  "Are you all ready?" asked Mr. Durkin.

  "All ready," replied Jerry. "Get aboard, Professor, we are going tostart."

  Everything had been done that human foresight could think of to makethe rescue a success. Jerry took his position in the steering tower.

  Slowly he pulled the starting lever toward him. In another instant the_Comet_ would dart forward. But, before the tall lad could pull thehandle, a man pushed his way through the crowd, laid his hand on therail of the aircraft and exclaimed:

  "I forbid this balloon to leave the grounds!"

  "Why?" demanded Jerry, leaning out of the window of the pilot house.

  "Because I've got an attachment against it for a thousand dollars, andit can't go until that amount is paid to Mr. Silas Muggins for damageyou did to his barn. You and your machine are in the grip of the law!"