Dick Hamilton's Airship Part 41

"Only a little," answered Mr. Vardon. "The main supply is in the deck tank. But there is a small can in there for priming the cylinders, in case we have to."

"It smells like oil afire," said Larry Dexter.

"That's what it is--probably some oily waste started by spontaneous combustion," said Mr. Vardon.

As he spoke he threw the contents of his extinguisher inside the motor compartment--it was hardly large enough to be called a room. The smoke was so black that no blaze could be seen.

"Open some of the windows!" shouted Paul. "It's choking in here."

"That's right!" agreed Larry, with a cough and a sneeze.

"Stoop down--get near the floor of the cabin," ordered the army lieutenant. "The air is always more pure there."

He, too, emptied the contents of his extinguisher in the compartment, and his example was followed by the others. The smoke seemed to be less now, and much of it went out through the opened windows, which Paul slid back in their groves.

"There's the blaze!" cried d.i.c.k, as he saw, through the lessening haze of smoke, some bright, red tongues of fire.

"Douse it!" cried Paul, handing his chum a fresh extinguisher, for d.i.c.k had used his.

The young millionaire threw on the chemical powder, for this happened to be that sort of an extinguisher, and almost instantly there followed a sharp explosion.

"Look out!" yelled d.i.c.k, ducking instinctively. "I guess this is the end of everything!"

But, to the surprise of all, the motor still kept up its hum, and they could tell, by the "feel" of the craft that she was still progressing.

The gale had now almost completely died out, and the Abaris was making good time, and on her proper course, when the fire was discovered.

"The fire is scattered!" d.i.c.k yelled, as he rose up and took another look in the motor-room. "I guess it was only that little tank of gasolene that went up." Afterward this was found to be so.

The blazing liquid, however, had scattered all about the motor compartment. Fortunately the walls were of steel, so that the fiery stuff could burn itself out without doing much damage.

"More extinguishers!" yelled d.i.c.k, as he saw the spots of fire about the motor. "First thing we know, some of the insulation will be burned off, and we'll have a short circuit!"

The motor-room was almost free of smoke now, and there were only a few scattered spots of fire. Standing in the entrance, d.i.c.k threw the contents of several extinguishers inside, as they were pa.s.sed to him, and he had the satisfaction of seeing the flames gradually choked by the chemical fumes thus released.

"Now I guess we're all right," said Mr. Vardon, when no more fire could be seen. "And the marvel of it is that our motor never stopped!"

"That's the one thing that saved us from making another descent--our last," murmured d.i.c.k. "That's sure some motor, all right."

But they were congratulating themselves too soon, it seemed. For, hardly had d.i.c.k spoken than the monotonous whine of the powerful machine seemed to weaken in tone. It died out--the high note sunk to a low one, and gradually went out.

"What's up now?" asked Paul, peering over d.i.c.k's shoulder. The motor compartment was still too hot to enter with safety, and it was also filled with acrid vapor, from the extinguishers.

"I--I'm afraid it's going to stop," gasped d.i.c.k, for he was out of breath from his exertions, and from the excitement of the occasion.

"Stop!" cried Paul. "If she does we'll have to go down!"

And stop the motor did. There was a sort of final groan or gasp, as if of apology, and then the wheels stopped revolving and the big propellers outside the cabin, which had been forcing the craft onward, gradually ceased their motion.

"Quick?" shouted Mr. Vardon. "Throw on the self-starter, d.i.c.k! We may catch her before she loses all her momentum!"

"All right!" answered d.i.c.k. He made one jump to the switch that put into commission the electrical starter. But he was too late to "catch"

the motor. It had died down, and, though the young millionaire made contact after contact with the copper knife-switch, there was no response.

"We're falling!" cried Innis, from the pilot-house, as he noted the height gage, and saw that the hand was constantly receding. "We're falling, d.i.c.k!"

"I know it--no help for it," answered our hero, hopelessly.

The Abaris was certainly going down. When the propellers had ceased to urge her forward she began to dip toward the earth, even as a stone falls when the initial impulse from the sling, or the hand of the thrower, is lost.

Foot by foot she dropped, and those aboard her looked helplessly at one another. They had made a brave fight against the fire, but it seemed to have gone for naught. They could not keep up with the motor stalled as it was.

"I guess we'll have to make another landing," said Innis, as he remained at the wheel.

Of course they were ent.i.tled to one more, but it would be the last, and a long and hard part of their trans-continental flight was still ahead of them. If they went down this time, and, after making repairs, came up into the air once more, they would not, under the rules, be allowed to land again before reaching San Francisco.

"It's tough luck, but I guess we'll have to do it," said Larry Dexter.

"Maybe not!" d.i.c.k cried. "I have an idea."

"What is it? Tell us quick!" begged Innis, for he, as well as all of d.i.c.k's friends, wanted to see him win the prize.

"I think the insulation has been burning off some of the wires of the motor," was his answer. "That would make a short circuit and put it out of business. Now if we can only keep afloat long enough to change those wires, we may be able to start the motor again, and keep on our way before we touch ground."

"You've struck it!" cried Mr. Vardon. "d.i.c.k, you take charge of the wheel--you and any of your friends you want. I'll look over the motor, and make repairs if I can."

"And they'll have to be made pretty soon," called out Innis from the pilot-house. "We're falling fast."

"Throw her nose up," cried d.i.c.k. "That's what we've got to do to save ourselves. We'll volplane down, and maybe we can keep up long enough to have Mr. Vardon put in new wires in place of the burned-out ones.

If he can do that, and if we can start the motor--"

"It sounds too good to be true," said Innis. "But get in here, d.i.c.k, and see what you can do. You've got to volplane as you never did before."

"And I'm going to do it!" cried the young millionaire.

The motor-room was now free from smoke, and the fire was out. A pile of charred waste in one corner showed where it had started.

"That's the trouble--insulation burned off!" cried Mr. Vardon, as he made a quick inspection. "I think I can fix it, d.i.c.k, if you can keep her up long enough. Take long glides. We're up a good height, and that will help solve."

Then began a curious battle against fate, and, not only a struggle against adverse circ.u.mstances, but against gravitation. For, now that there was no forward impulse in the airs.h.i.+p, she could not overcome the law that Sir Isaac Newton discovered, which law is as immutable as death. Nothing can remain aloft unless it is either lighter than the air itself, or unless it keeps in motion with enough force to overcome the pull of the magnet earth, which draws all things to itself.

I have told you how it is possible for a body heavier than air to remain above the earth, as long as it is in motion. It is this which keeps cannon b.a.l.l.s and airs.h.i.+ps up--motion. Though, of course, airs.h.i.+ps, with their big spread of surface, need less force to keep them from falling than do projectiles.

And when the motor of an airs.h.i.+p stops it is only by volplaning down, or descending in a series of slanting s.h.i.+fts, that accidents are avoided.

This, then, is what d.i.c.k did. He would let the airs.h.i.+p shoot downward on a long slant, so as to gain as much as possible. Then, by throwing up the head-rudder, he would cause his craft to take an upward turn, thus delaying the inevitable descent.

All the while this was going on Mr. Vardon, aided by Lieutenant McBride, was laboring hard to replace the burned-out wires. He worked frantically, for he knew he had but a few minutes at the best. From the height at which they were when the motor stopped it would take them about ten minutes to reach the earth, holding back as d.i.c.k might. And there was work which, in the ordinary course of events, would take twice as long as this.

"I'm only going to make a s.h.i.+ft at it," explained the aviator. "If I can only get in temporary wires I can replace them later."