Dick Hamilton's Airship - BestLightNovel.com
You’re reading novel Dick Hamilton's Airship Part 47 online at BestLightNovel.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit BestLightNovel.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy
"What's the trouble?" asked Larry.
"Not a drop of gasolene left!" said Mr. Vardon, with a tragic gesture, as he made an examination. "There's a leak in the tank. We haven't a drop left. The vibration must have opened a seam and we've been spilling our fuel as we went along."
"There goes the other airs.h.i.+p!" cried Innis, as the big biplane flashed by them. They had now crossed Oakland and the bay.
"And the Presido Park is in sight!" yelled Paul, pointing to a big field, now black with people, for the coming of d.i.c.k had been flashed all over San Francisco and Oakland.
"We can never make it," the young millionaire murmured. "We'll have to volplane down, but we can't reach the park. Oh, for a gallon of gasolene! One gallon would do!"
"What's that!" cried Uncle Ezra, coming from his bunk room. "What do you want of gasolene?"
"To complete the trip," cried d.i.c.k. "Ours is all gone! A gallon would do."
"Then, by hickory, you shall have it!" suddenly cried Mr. Larabee.
"Where can you get it?" demanded d.i.c.k. "There isn't a drop aboard!
"Oh, yes there is!" his uncle answered. "Here it is," and he brought from his room a square, gallon can.
"Great Scott!" cried d.i.c.k, as he took it and hurried with it toward the empty tank. "Where in the world did you get it?"
"I brought it along in my valise to clean the grease spots off my clothes," answered Uncle Ezra, simply. "I got all oil from my airs.h.i.+p.
But I wasn't going to buy a new suit when I could clean my old one."
"Whoop!" cried d.i.c.k, with boyish enthusiasm. "This may save the race for us."
The Abaris had already begun to settle down, but a moment later, as the motor received the supply of gasolene so Providentially provided, she shot forward again, her momentum scarcely checked.
On and on she rushed. It was nip and tuck now between her and the rival airs.h.i.+p. The big crowd in the aviation field yelled and shouted at the sight of the thrilling race.
The other airs.h.i.+p seemed to falter and hesitate. The pilot cut off his motor, but too soon. d.i.c.k rushed his craft on, pa.s.sed the other, and then, seeing that he had the advantage, he turned off his power, and volplaned to the landing spot just about fifteen seconds in advance of his rival. He had beaten in the race at the last minute. But it still remained to be seen whether he had triumphed over other, and possibly previous, arrivals.
Out of the Abaris rushed the young millionaire and his friends before she had ceased rolling over the ground. The other biplane was just behind them.
An army officer ran out of the crowd of spectators.
"Who is the pilot of this craft?" he asked.
"I am," answered d.i.c.k.
"And where is your official army timekeeper?"
"Here," answered Lieutenant McBride, saluting. "Are we the first to cross the continent?"
How anxiously d.i.c.k waited for the answer. "No, not the first," replied the San Francisco officer. "One biplane arrived yesterday. What is your time?"
Lieutenant McBride made a hasty calculation.
"Sixty-two hours, forty minutes and fourteen seconds from, New York, taking out the time of two landings," was the reply.
"Then you win!" cried Captain Weston, as he introduced himself. "That is, unless this other craft can better your time. For the first arrival was seventy-two hours altogether."
And d.i.c.k had won, for the biplane with which he had just had the exciting race, had consumed more than eighty hours, exclusive of stops, from coast to coast.
"Hurray, d.i.c.k! You win!" cried Innis, clapping his chum on the back.
"The best trans-continental flight ever made!" declared Captain Weston, as he congratulated the young millionaire.
"I'd like to have gotten here first," murmured d.i.c.k.
"Well, you'd have been here first, only for the delay my airs.h.i.+p caused you," said Uncle Ezra. "I'm sorry."
"But you get the prize," spoke Lieutenant McBride.
"Yes," a.s.sented Captain Weston, of Fort Mason. "It was the time that counted, not the order of arrival. Which reminds me that you may yet be beaten, Mr. Hamilton, for there are other airs.h.i.+ps on the way."
But d.i.c.k was not beaten. His nearest compet.i.tor made a poorer record by several hours, so d.i.c.k's performance stood.
And that, really, is all there is to tell of this story, except to add that by the confession of Larson, later it was learned that he had tampered with Mr. Vardon's gyroscope, as had been suspected. The twenty thousand dollars was duly paid, and d.i.c.k gave the United States government an option to purchase his patents of the Abaris. For them he would receive a substantial sum, and a large part of this would go to Mr. Vardon for his gyroscope.
"So you'll be all right from now on," his cousin Innis remarked.
"Yes, thanks to your friend d.i.c.k Hamilton. My good luck all dates from meeting him."
"Yes, he is a lucky chap," agreed Paul.
"I think Uncle Ezra had all the luck this trip," put in d.i.c.k, as he heard the last words. "That gasolene he brought along to clean the grease off his clothes saved our bacon, all right. It sure did!"
And I believe d.i.c.k was right.
Mr. Hamilton, to whom d.i.c.k wired a brief message of the successful ending of the trip, telegraphed back:
"Congratulations. You made good after all. I haven't any doubts now."
"That's another time I put one over on dad!" laughed d.i.c.k.
"Where are you going, Larry?" asked the young millionaire, as he saw his young newspaper friend hurrying across the aviation field.
"I'm going to wire the story to the Leader," was the answer. "I want 'em to know we crossed the continent and won the prize. It'll be a great beat!"
Of how d.i.c.k was feted and greeted by an aviation club in San Francisco, of how he was made much of by the army officers, and how he had to give many exhibition flights, I will say nothing here, as this book is already lengthy enough. Sufficient to remark that the young millionaire had a great time at the City of the Golden Gate, and Uncle Ezra and his friends enjoyed it with him. Grit, also, came in for a share of attention.
d.i.c.k Hamilton left his airs.h.i.+p with the San Francisco army officers, as he had agreed to do, for they wanted to study its construction. In due season, the party started back East.
"I rather calculated you'd go back in the airs.h.i.+p," said Uncle Ezra.
"Railroad fare is terrible expensive, and I've lost so much money already--"