"What do you suppose is the matter, John?" asked Tom Meeks.

"I'll bet Pete Deveaux and that Chuck Crossman have been tampering with her, back there in Georgetown," declared Bob.

"I don't know; it certainly looks kind of suspicious," admitted John Ross. He thought a moment. "Cattails and jewsharps!" he exclaimed very suddenly.

"What now?" asked Bob.

"I believe I've hit the trouble," stated John, with his brown face a shade paler. "You know we saw those fellows monkeying around our wings. It would be an easy matter to trip one or more of those valves and let some of the helium out! That would make us heavier, and if more gas were let out from one wing than from the other, we would be out of balance in the bargain."

This declaration of John's brought a startled and troubled look to the faces of his companions. All knew that if Pete Deveaux had engineered such a dastardly trick as John hinted at, a handicap would be in store for the Sky-Bird's crew all through the remainder of the race, for it would be impossible to get a renewal of their helium-gas supply before reaching their own country again, and then it would be too late.

"What shall we do?" came from Bob.

"Do? There's nothing to do now, but to keep on flying at the best gait we can until we reach Para," decided John. "When we get there we'll have a chance to find out what is really wrong."

This seemed the wisest course to pursue. So Paul, vexed though he was at the contrary actions of the airplane, buckled down to the job of guiding the machine and complained no more. But he made up his mind that if investigations proved the rival crew had been tampering with the Sky-Bird II he, for one, would do his part in giving them a warm time should they meet on the ground again.

At noon while John and Tom slept, Bob relieved Paul, and for an hour they made a little better time by working both engines; but, afraid of overheating the one they termed their "night engine", they went back to one motor for the rest of the journey into Para, where they arrived an hour late. And it was to find bad news awaiting them.

The landing-field official announced that the _Clarion's_ flyers had left not fifteen minutes before for Freetown, Africa. And upon investigating the helium valves in the wings of the Sky-Bird, our boys found to their dismay that fully a third of the pressure was gone, indicating that an equal quant.i.ty of gas had escaped in some manner.

It may be added that there was very little doubt in their minds as to this manner.

CHAPTER XVII

ACROSS THE ATLANTIC

Our friends looked at each other dismally when they had ascertained the cause of the Sky-Bird's sluggish flying. Paul and Tom even gave the craft a tentative push, and found that the loss of her helium had made her so much heavier to move over the ground that the difference was manifest at once.

"This looks kind of black for us, fellows," remarked Bob.

"And we've got those scoundrels to thank for it without the shadow of a doubt," put in Paul, with flashing eyes. "I'd give a year of my life to get my hands on that Pete Deveaux right now."

"It's lucky they got out ahead of us," added Tom significantly.

"Well, if they were here, and if we thrashed the stuffing out of the entire bunch, that wouldn't put back our lost helium and former speed,"

said the practical John. "What we've got to do now is to try to remedy matters."

"Easier said than done, I'm thinking," Tom observed. "We can't get any more helium here; in fact, not until we get back to Panama. Of course that will be too late."

"I don't know about that," hinted John.

"What's your remedy?" asked Bob.

"I know," said Paul. "The machine's out of balance now, because they have let more helium out of one wing than the other, and none at all out of the fuselage. By letting some out of our body tank, and enough out of the lightest wing to bring it in equilibrium with its mate, we can get a perfect balance again, and that ought to give us air steadiness and more speed."

"Right you are, Buddy," declared John. "Good head! That's my idea exactly."

"But won't that make us even heavier than we are now?" inquired Bob.

"Sure," responded John, "but balance is the main thing in an airplane, you know. When we get that, the old girl will act a whole lot better than she did coming here."

"Still, our rivals will have some advantage over us," argued Tom.

"That's true--in the way of a lighter machine. But we've shown we could outspeed them when the Sky-Bird was all right, and now we ought to be about an even match for them," said John.

"That means a nip-and-tuck race of it, then, the rest of the way,"

commented Paul.

At this point a bright idea struck Bob. "Say, fellows," he cried, "why can't we send a wire message from here to Mr. Giddings at Panama, and ask him to have a fast vessel drop a tank of helium off at Nukahiva, Marquesas Islands, for us?"

His comrades slapped Bob so hard upon the back when he made this suggestion that he had to stagger.

"Fine idea, Bob!" declared John. "A fast boat ought to reach Nukahiva before we do, and that will give us a full load of helium again for the last four or five thousand miles of the race. If it's a close contest up to that point, the new supply may save the day for us!"

They now set to work equalizing the gas supply in the wings of the Sky-Bird and reducing that in the fuselage to the proper pressure for perfect equilibrium, which they were able to get by the use of the pressure-gauge and a little figuring. Then they went over all parts of the machine, put in gasoline and oil, and attended to watering the radiators, following which Paul and Bob departed for town.

As in Georgetown, they created a vast interest, and were considerably annoyed by the crowds of natives which followed at their heels, many of whom carried baskets of fruit on their heads and constantly importuned them to buy some of their wares. Even in the windows of the houses they pa.s.sed women holding naked babies, who stared out at them, and in the doorways stood girls, some of them beautifully gowned in silks, their dark hair falling like a shower about their comely nut-brown faces, while their eyes opened wide in wonder or dropped in abashment when they saw one of the handsome young Americans look their way.

Para is directly on the equatorial line. It is also the metropolis of the mighty Amazon, the king of all the world's rivers, whose width here at its mouth is close to two hundred miles, and which carries into the Atlantic so much mud from the interior of South America that it is said the waters of that ocean are stained yellow for five hundred miles outward. This mighty stream is formed by countless mountain creeks and rivers draining practically the whole northern half of the continent, and these streams are formed in their turn by the heavy rains which fall frequently from swiftly-gathered clouds. In fact, it rains nearly every afternoon in Para, and the air is always moist, so much so, that articles made of steel and iron quickly rust, and furniture must be pegged together rather than glued to keep it from coming apart.

Paul and Bob found Para quite a good-sized city, but on very low ground. Along the docks of the mighty river were many kinds of boats and ships, from stately ocean-liners to the tub-like barges used to float down from Bolivia great cargoes of raw rubber. There were numerous schooners unloading vegetables and fruit, and countless dugouts paddled by natives. Cargadores, in their bare feet, were carrying goods in and out of the various large craft, supporting the heaviest of bundles on their bare heads. Their faces were all shades of white, brown, and black. Among them were negroes from Jamaica, and Spaniards, Portuguese, and mulattoes from all parts of Brazil.

The business buildings were three and four stories high, and built close to the sidewalks along narrow streets. Their walls, the boys noticed as they crowded their way along, were of all colors, some being faced with blue, yellow, and green porcelain tiles.

By asking questions they found the telegraph office, and there sent the message to Mr. Giddings at Panama, requesting that the helium-gas be sent to Nukahiva by fastest boat. They also wired a report of their progress. They had by this time another roll of exposed kodak films, and this was mailed to the _Daily Independent_.

No sooner had they reappeared from the post-office than they were once more besieged with peddlers asking them to make a purchase of their wares. Paul and Bob stopped when they saw some particularly luscious-looking oranges and bananas, and were surprised upon asking the price to find that they could have a dozen of each kind for the value of five cents; and oh! how sweet and juicy they were when they sank a tooth into them.

They bought some baked goods in a little shop, and as they emerged an old man with a parrot on one shoulder and a small monkey on the other blocked their pathway, and begged them to look at "nice parryote, nice monk."

They shook their heads, when they saw other vendors crowding forward, and were about to push by when the monkey sprang nimbly upon Paul's own shoulder, s.n.a.t.c.hed off his cap, shook it in front of his eyes, and put it back in place again.

Paul and Bob both laughed, and harder yet as the bright little animal shot a paw into Paul's pocket and adroitly drew out a Brazilian gold coin called a milreis, worth about fifty-four cents in American money.

"You give five milreis, me give monk," said the old mulatto.

Paul shook his head.

"You give four milreis, me give monk."

"No; that's more than I have of these coins."

"You give three milreis, me give--"

"Only have two of them left," said Paul.