CHAPTER XXVI.
THE SAND STORM.
Rushing out in the direction of the cries, the boys found Billystruggling in the grasp of Fred Reade, Luther Barr, and Slade, while thered-headed mechanic was striking at the aeroplane with a big wrench.
"There! If we can't fly any more, no more can you," he exclaimedviciously, making a savage smash at the engine. There was a sound ofsplintering metal.
"Consarn 'em, they're trying to bust up our aeroplane," yelled BartWitherbee, making a dash at the group.
As they saw the boys and their companions coming the men took to theirheels, Reade alone looking back to shout out:
"Now you can't fly, either. You're out of the race."
This the boys construed to mean that the Slade aeroplane was too badlycrippled to fly. And so they afterwards learned. The engine haddeveloped a serious flaw, and one of the cylinders was cracked from topto bottom. In the part of the country in which they were it would, ofcourse, have taken weeks to get a new engine.
"Shall we chase them?" asked Harry.
"No, it would be useless. Hark! they're in their auto now, and would beaway ahead of us by the time we got after them," rejoined Frank.
The sound of an auto's exhaust rapidly growing fainter reached theirears. It was the last they saw of Luther Barr and his gang, for thatnight they left Calabazos and making their way to the railroad took atrain east. The skeleton of Slade's unlucky aeroplane still remains inthe little settlement, and greatly puzzles visitors there, some of whomthink it is the framework of some extinct animal.
Billy Barnes soon told how, while shooting in the woods, he had heard anauto coming up the trail, and suspecting some mischief had hastened tothe spot where the aeroplane had been left. He found his surmise correctwhen Barr and his companions suddenly emerged from the woods and begantheir attempt to wreck the craft. Before Billy, who indignantly sprangforward, could seize the arm of the vandal with the wrench, he had beenseized. Luckily he had time to cry out before they thought of stoppinghim, and so the aeroplane was saved from serious damage. It was found,in fact, that the blow aimed at it had done no worse harm than tosplinter a spark plug, which was soon replaced.
That afternoon the boys, leaving Bart Witherbee and the sheriff to makean inventory of the dead miner's effects and to explore the tunnel,which was found to be a wonderful piece of work, the boys motored downto the settlement and sent out telegrams seeking information of thewhereabouts of the dirigible. It was not till late evening that theyreceived from Doolittle, a small town about forty miles from Calabazos,information that the big gas-lifted craft had laid up there for repairs,but was ready to start early the next day.
To the boys who had feared that the rival must have been almost in SanFrancisco by that time this was cheering news, and the _Golden Eagle's_planes were hurriedly readjusted, as she was put in shape for acontinuation of her trip. Early the next day the start was made. BartWitherbee was left behind at his mine, in which he had insisted on theboys, much against their will, each taking a share. Old Mr. Joyce alsoreceived a large enough portion of the general good luck to secure himfrom want and give him ample leisure to work out his queer inventions.The Witherbee mine--he calls it the Aeroplane--is now one of the mostfamous in the west.
The boys had determined to shape their course by Doolittle, as it was ontheir direct path westward, and they wished also to get out of themountainous region of the foothills. As Doolittle came in sight they hadan opportunity to view their rival for the first time in many days. Herbig red gas bag showed like a bright crimson flower above the sober grayof the prairie town. That their rivals had sighted them was soon madeevident by the fact that a flag was run up on the single staff the townpossessed and the citizens wheeled out a rusty old cannon and beganfiring it like mad. When the boys were within a mile of the town theymade ready to drop messages which, as they sailed above, they cast down.They could see the people scrambling furiously for them.
"I hope they leave enough of them to send back home," laughed Harry asthey saw the wild struggle.
That day was to be a memorable one for the town of Doolittle. As theaeroplane passed above it, the faithful escorting auto not far behind,the big dirigible also was shot into the air.
Mr. McArthur from his deck waved a greeting to the boys and hailed themthrough a megaphone.
"Glad to see you," he hailed. "Hurray, for 'Frisco!"
All that afternoon the two ships sailed along in company, the boys'aeroplane slightly in the lead. As the sun sank lower a big bank ofclouds arose toward the north and the sun glowed with a peculiar redlight.
A light breeze also sprang up, but instead of being cooling it was ashot as if it had blown from an oven door.
"We're in for a storm," remarked Frank, "or I'm very much mistaken."
"What, a regular rain and wind storm?" asked Harry. "I thought they onlyhad those in the hills in this part of the country."
"They have a worse thing than that," said Frank apprehensively, "a sandstorm, and that's what may be coming."
"McArthur doesn't seem to be worrying," remarked Harry, glancing up atthe dirigible, which was sailing slightly above them.
"No," said Frank, "that's a fact. Maybe I am mistaken, after all.Anyhow, we'll keep on as long as he does."
But half an hour later the boys wished they had alighted. The wind camein sharp, hot puffs from the north, and had it not been for the Joycegyroscopic balancer they carried, the ship would have been in hardstraits. As it was, when Frank wished to make a landing he dared notrisk it. The air, too, grew so thick that he could not see the earthbeneath them.
Stinging particles of sand drove into their eyes, blinding them andgritting between their teeth. The wind grew stronger, and as it did sothe air grew black as night with the sand with which it was impregnated.
So dark was it, in fact, that when night came and found them still inthe air, unable to make a landing, there did not seem to be anyperceptible difference.
The aeroplane drove rigidly before the howling wind. Her speed wasterrific. Neither boy spoke after their first expressions of alarm, butdevoted their entire attentions to keeping the aeroplane from capsizing.
"Keep cool, Harry," said Frank at length. "We may come out of it allright."
"Where are we being driven?" asked the other lad.
"To the south at a terrific pace, too. If the gasolene holds out we maymanage to live out the storm, but I don't know where we will be drivento."
"What lies to the south of us?" asked Harry, after another long pause,during which the storm-stressed aeroplane made several sickeninglurches, always recovering herself in time, however, thanks to thegyroscope.
"Why, about as desolate a country as can be imagined. Nothing but aridwastes and cactus."
"It will be a bad lookout, then, if we have to land there."
"It certainly will," was the laconic response.
On and on through the darkness drove the storm-tossed aeroplane,carrying her two young navigators into the unknown.