CHAPTER XXXIII
WITH UNCLE EZRA'S HELP
"We're off!"
"On the last lap!"
"No more landings!"
Thus cried Innis, Paul and Larry as they stood in the cabin of theairship. Once more they were on the flight.
"This train makes no stops this side of San Francisco!" cried DickHamilton, after the manner of the conductor of a Limited. "That is, Ihope we don't," he added with a grim smile. "If we do it will cost metwenty thousand dollars."
"Quite an expensive stop," observed Lieutenant McBride.
"Don't think of it!" said Uncle Ezra. "Nephew Richard, after myfailure, you've just GOT to win that prize."
"I'll try," Dick answered.
It was several days after the events narrated in the last chapter. Thewireless, sending out its crackling call, had brought speedy help fromthe army post, and the two lieutenants were taken to the hospital bytheir fellow soldiers.
Larson recovered consciousness before Dick and his friends left, butwas delirious, and practically insane. They had to bind him with ropesto prevent him doing himself and others an injury. His mind had beenaffected for some time, it was believed.
Some time later, I am glad to say, he recovered, in a sanitorium,though he was always lame from the accident. He was a much differentman, however, and begged Dick's forgiveness for trying to collide withhim. Lieutenant Wilson made a quick recovery, and, in spite of themishap, still kept up his interest in aviation, winning much fame forhimself.
The army officers, who came to attend the injured ones, brought Dicksome supplies and gasolene.
Uncle Ezra begged that some part of his wrecked airship be saved, butit was impossible. There was little left that was worth anything, andDick, by taking his uncle as an extra passenger, added enough weight asit was, so that no parts of the Larabee could be taken along.
"I might have saved a little," said Uncle Ezra, with a sigh. "I'velost a pile of money!" But he realized that it was out of the question.
The Abaris had been gone over minutely, and put in excellent shape forher final dash. She was taken to the edge of a sloping table-land andthere once more launched into space. Before that, however, LieutenantWilson had been taken back to the army post, and Larson sent to thehospital. Lieutenant Wilson wished Dick and his friends all sorts ofgood luck.
Then, with Uncle Ezra aboard, the start was made. There was somecrowding, because of the extra passenger, and his valise, which heinsisted on bringing with him, but this could be borne.
"We ought to make San Francisco in three hours now," said Dick, whenthey were up in the air once more.
Uncle Ezra was frankly delighted with his nephew's craft. He did noteven say it was wasteful, when Dick told him how much she cost.
"I know airships are terrible expensive--terrible!" said Mr. Larabee,as he looked at the note-book in which he had jotted down every item ofmoney paid for his own.
That Larson had wasted money, and used much of what was given him forhis own purposes was very evident. But it was too late to think ofthat now.
Uncle Ezra told of their experiences in crossing the continent. Theyhad really had excellent luck, and in the hands of a better aviator, orone more dependable, the Larabee might have won the race. She wasreally a good biplane, but could only carry three, and then with nocomfort at all, as compared to Dick's. But the mercury stabilizersworked fairly well, though not as good as the gyroscope.
"Yes, I was sorry, more than once, that I ever left Dankville," UncleEzra said, "but Larson wouldn't let me stop. He kept right on. I'msure he was crazy."
On and on rushed the Abaris. She was racing against time now, andevery minute and mile counted. While down on the ground, helping saveUncle Ezra, Dick had, by wireless, communicated with the armyauthorities in San Francisco, telling them he was coming on the laststage, and asking that a landing-place be designated. This was done,Presido Park Reservation, on the outskirts of the city being named asthe spot where the craft could officially come down.
"We'll soon be there," remarked Dick, who was at the wheel. It wasafternoon, and by computation they were not more than ninety miles fromtheir goal.
"See anything of any other craft?" asked Paul of his chum.
"Take a look, Innis," suggested the young millionaire. "We might get arace at the last minute."
Innis swept the horizon with the glasses.
"There's something coming behind us," he said. "I can't tell whetherit's a big bird, or an airship."
A little later, however, the speck in the blue sky was made out to be abig biplane, rushing onward.
"They're probably trying for the prize," said Dick. "Of course wedon't know anything about their time and stops, but, just the same, I'mgoing to beat her in, if I can. We'll run the motor under forcedspeed, Mr. Vardon, and feed her heated gasolene."
"That's the idea!" cried the aviator. "That ought to help some."
The motor was so adjusted as to take heated gasolene, the liquidvaporizing and exploding better than when cold. The Abaris rushed onat increased speed.
But so, also, came on behind her the other airship. As Dick had said,that craft might have no chance, having used up more than her limit ofstops, or having consumed more elapsed time than had he. But, for allthat, he was taking no chances.
The other craft was a swift one. That was easily seen as it slowlycrept up on Dick. The speed of each was terrific. The gages showedninety-five miles an hour for the Abaris. At that rate the city ofOakland, just across the bay from San Francisco, was soon sighted.
And then something happened that nearly put Dick out of the race. Hismotor suddenly stopped, and all efforts to start it proved futile.
"We've got to go down!" cried our hero, "and within sight of the goal,too! This is fierce!"
"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 adrop left. The vibration must have opened a seam and we've beenspilling our fuel as we went along."
"There goes the other airship!" cried Innis, as the big biplane flashedby them. They had now crossed Oakland and the bay.
"And the Presido Park is in sight!" yelled Paul, pointing to a bigfield, now black with people, for the coming of Dick had been flashedall over San Francisco and Oakland.
"We can never make it," the young millionaire murmured. "We'll have tovolplane down, but we can't reach the park. Oh, for a gallon ofgasolene! One gallon would do!"
"What's that!" cried Uncle Ezra, coming from his bunk room. "What doyou want of gasolene?"
"To complete the trip," cried Dick. "Ours is all gone! A gallon woulddo."
"Then, by hickory, you shall have it!" suddenly cried Mr. Larabee.
"Where can you get it?" demanded Dick. "There isn't a drop aboard!
"Oh, yes there is!" his uncle answered. "Here it is," and he broughtfrom his room a square, gallon can.
"Great Scott!" cried Dick, as he took it and hurried with it toward theempty tank. "Where in the world did you get it?"
"I brought it along in my valise to clean the grease spots off myclothes," answered Uncle Ezra, simply. "I got all oil from my airship.But I wasn't going to buy a new suit when I could clean my old one."
"Whoop!" cried Dick, with boyish enthusiasm. "This may save the racefor us."
The Abaris had already begun to settle down, but a moment later, as themotor received the supply of gasolene so Providentially provided, sheshot forward again, her momentum scarcely checked.
On and on she rushed. It was nip and tuck now between her and therival airship. The big crowd in the aviation field yelled and shoutedat the sight of the thrilling race.
The other airship seemed to falter and hesitate. The pilot cut off hismotor, but too soon. Dick rushed his craft on, passed the other, andthen, seeing that he had the advantage, he turned off his power, andvolplaned to the landing spot ju
st about fifteen seconds in advance ofhis rival. He had beaten in the race at the last minute. But it stillremained to be seen whether he had triumphed over other, and possiblyprevious, arrivals.
Out of the Abaris rushed the young millionaire and his friends beforeshe had ceased rolling over the ground. The other biplane was justbehind them.
An army officer ran out of the crowd of spectators.
"Who is the pilot of this craft?" he asked.
"I am," answered Dick.
"And where is your official army timekeeper?"
"Here," answered Lieutenant McBride, saluting. "Are we the first tocross the continent?"
How anxiously Dick waited for the answer. "No, not the first," repliedthe San Francisco officer. "One biplane arrived yesterday. What isyour 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. "Thatis, unless this other craft can better your time. For the firstarrival was seventy-two hours altogether."
And Dick had won, for the biplane with which he had just had theexciting race, had consumed more than eighty hours, exclusive of stops,from coast to coast.
"Hurray, Dick! 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 Dick.
"Well, you'd have been here first, only for the delay my airship causedyou," said Uncle Ezra. "I'm sorry."
"But you get the prize," spoke Lieutenant McBride.
"Yes," assented Captain Weston, of Fort Mason. "It was the time thatcounted, not the order of arrival. Which reminds me that you may yetbe beaten, Mr. Hamilton, for there are other airships on the way."
But Dick was not beaten. His nearest competitor made a poorer recordby several hours, so Dick's performance stood.
And that, really, is all there is to tell of this story, except to addthat by the confession of Larson, later it was learned that he hadtampered with Mr. Vardon's gyroscope, as had been suspected. The twentythousand dollars was duly paid, and Dick gave the United Statesgovernment an option to purchase his patents of the Abaris. For them hewould receive a substantial sum, and a large part of this would go toMr. Vardon for his gyroscope.
"So you'll be all right from now on," his cousin Innis remarked.
"Yes, thanks to your friend Dick Hamilton. My good luck all dates frommeeting him."
"Yes, he is a lucky chap," agreed Paul.
"I think Uncle Ezra had all the luck this trip," put in Dick, as heheard the last words. "That gasolene he brought along to clean thegrease off his clothes saved our bacon, all right. It sure did!"
And I believe Dick was right.
Mr. Hamilton, to whom Dick wired a brief message of the successfulending 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 Dick.
"Where are you going, Larry?" asked the young millionaire, as he sawhis 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 agreat beat!"
Of how Dick 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 givemany exhibition flights, I will say nothing here, as this book isalready lengthy enough. Sufficient to remark that the youngmillionaire had a great time at the City of the Golden Gate, and UncleEzra and his friends enjoyed it with him. Grit, also, came in for ashare of attention.
Dick Hamilton left his airship with the San Francisco army officers, ashe had agreed to do, for they wanted to study its construction. In dueseason, the party started back East.
"I rather calculated you'd go back in the airship," said Uncle Ezra."Railroad fare is terrible expensive, and I've lost so much moneyalready--"
"I'll buy your ticket," said Dick generously, "especially as you helpedme win the race," and Mr. Larabee, with a look of relief on his face,put back his pocketbook.
"And now for Hamilton Corners!" exclaimed Dick, as they got in thetrain. "I've had enough of airships for a while, though it was greatsport." And here we will take leave of Dick Hamilton and his friends.
Dick Hamilton's Airship; Or, A Young Millionaire in the Clouds Page 33