Tom Swift and His Air Glider; Or, Seeking the Platinum Treasure

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Tom Swift and His Air Glider; Or, Seeking the Platinum Treasure Page 12

by Victor Appleton


  CHAPTER XII

  AN ACCIDENT

  For a few moments it seemed as if the Falcon would surely turn turtleand plunge into the seething ocean. The storm had burst with suchsuddenness that Tom, who was piloting his air craft, was takenunawares. He had not been using much power or the airship would havebeen better able to weather the blast that burst with such fury overher. But as it was, merely drifting along, she was almost like a greatsheet of paper. Down she was forced, until the high-flying spray fromthe waves actually wet the lower part of the car, and Ned, lookingthrough one of the glass windows, saw, in the darkness, thephosphorescent gleam of the water so near to them.

  "Tom!" he cried in alarm. "We're sinking!"

  "Bless my bath sponge! Don't say that!" gasped Mr. Damon.

  "That's why I called you," yelled the young inventor. "We've got torise above the storm if possible. Go to the gas machine, Ned, and turnit on full strength. I'll speed up the motor, and we may be able to cutup that way. But get the gas on as soon as you can. The bag is onlyabout half full. Force in all you can!

  "Mr. Damon, can you take the wheel? It doesn't make any differencewhich way we go as long as you keep her before the wind, and yank backthe elevating rudder as far as she'll go! We must head up."

  "All right, Tom," answered the eccentric man, as he fairly jumped totake the place of the young inventor at the helm.

  "Can I do anything?" asked the Russian, as Tom raced for the engineroom, to speed the motor up to the last notch.

  "I guess not. Everything is covered, unless you want to help Mr. Damon.In this blow it will be hard to work the rudder levers."

  "All right," replied Ivan Petrofsky, and then there came anothersickening roll of the airship, that threatened to turn her completelyover.

  "Lively!" yelled Tom, clinging to various supports as he made his wayto the engine room. "Lively, all hands, or we'll be awash in anotherminute!"

  And indeed it seemed that this might be so, for with the wind forcingher down, and the hungry waves leaping up, as if to clutch her tothemselves, the Falcon was having anything but an easy time of it.

  It was the work of but an instant however, when Tom reached the engineroom, to jerk the accelerator lever toward him, and the motor respondedat once. With a low, humming whine the wheels and gears redoubled theirspeed, and the great propellers beat the air with fiercer strokes.

  At the same time Tom heard the hiss of the gas as it rushed into theenvelope from the generating machine, as Ned opened the release valve.

  "Now we ought to go up," the young inventor murmured, as he anxiouslywatched the barograph, and noted the position of the swinging pendulumwhich told of the roll and dip of the air craft.

  For a moment she hung in the balance, neither the increased speed ofthe propellers, nor the force of the gas having any seeming effect. Mr.Damon and the Russian, clinging to the rudder levers, to avoid beingdashed against the sides of the pilot house, held them as far back asthey could, to gain the full power of the elevation planes. But eventhis seemed to do no good.

  The power of the gale was such, that, even with the motor and gasmachine working to their limit, the Falcon only held her own. She sweptalong, barely missing the crests of the giant waves.

  "She's got to go up! She's got to go up!" cried Tom desperately, as ifby very will power he could send her aloft. And then, when there came alull in the fierce blowing of the wind, the elevation rudder took hold,and like a bird that sees the danger below, and flies toward theclouds, the airship shot up suddenly.

  "That's it!" cried Tom in relief, as he noted the needle of thebarograph swinging over, indicating an ever-increasing height. "Nowwe're safe."

  They were not quite yet, but at last the power of machinery hadprevailed over that of the elements. Through the pelting rain, and amidthe glare of the lightning, and the thunder of heaven's artillery, theairship forced her way, up and up and up.

  Setting the motor controller to give the maximum power until hereleased it, Tom hastened to the gas-generating apparatus. He found Nedattending to it, so that it was now working satisfactorily.

  "How about it, Tom?" cried his chum anxiously.

  "All right now, Ned, but it was a close shave! I thought we were donefor, platinum mine, rescue of exiles, and all."

  "So did I. Shall I keep on with the gas?"

  "Yes, until the indicator shows that the bag is full. I'm going to thepilot house."

  Running there, Tom found that Mr. Damon and the Russian had about allthey could manage. The young inventor helped them and then, when theFalcon was well started on her upward course, Tom set the automaticsteering machine, and they had a breathing spell.

  To get above the sweep of the blast was no easy task, for the windstrata seemed to be several miles high, and Tom did not want to risk anaccident by going to such an elevation. So, when having gone up about amile, he found a comparatively calm area he held to that, and theFalcon sped along with the occupants feeling fairly comfortable, forthere was no longer that rolling and tumbling motion.

  The storm kept up all night, but the danger was practically over,unless something should happen to the machinery, and Tom and Ned keptcareful watch to prevent this. In the morning they could look down onthe storm-swept ocean below them, and there was a feeling ofthankfulness in their hearts that they were not engulfed in it.

  "This is a pretty hard initiation for an amateur," remarked Mr.Petrofsky. "I never imagined I should be as brave as this in an airshipin a storm."

  "Oh, you can get used to almost anything," commented Mr. Damon.

  It was three days before the storm blew itself out and then camepleasant weather, during which the Falcon flew rapidly along. Ourfriends busied themselves about many things, talked of what lay beforethem, and made such plans as they could.

  It was the evening of the fifth day, and they expected to sight thecoast of France in the morning. Tom was in the pilot house, setting thecourse for the night run, and Ned had gone to the engine room to lookafter the oiling of the motor.

  Hardly had he reached the compartment than there was a loud report, abrilliant flash of fire, and the machinery stopped dead.

  "What is it?" cried Tom, as he came in on the run, for the indicatorsin the pilot house had told him something was wrong.

  "An accident!" cried Ned. "A breakdown, Tom! What shall we do?"

 

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