Everything being in readiness, the four young men easily pushed the big airplane out of the building and to a place where it would have a smooth runway for a hundred yards ahead. The weather was ideal for the trip. There was little wind, and the few strato-c.u.mulus clouds which were visible showed great stretches of azure-blue sky between them.

"Everybody climb in," ordered Tom, with a wave of his hand. "I'll crank her up. You take the joy-stick, John."

All hands complied. Then Tom began to turn the big burnished propeller, just as John threw a lever from the inside which caused the auxiliary ground wheel to shoot down and engage the sod. At the same time the movement of another lever by Paul set the airplane's brakes.

Several times Tom turned the propeller around. Then, with a pop, the engine cylinders began to fire, Tom jumped swiftly back, and the propeller whirred like a mad thing. At the same time the Sky-Bird gave a start, as though to dash forward; but beyond a steady, slight vibration of her whole body, as Tom slowed down the motor to four hundred revolutions per minute, there was no indication to her inmates that she was straining to get away. Tom now quietly mounted the step, and came into the cabin, pulling the step up after him and closing the self-locking door.

"That shows you how this third ground wheel acts, dad!" cried Bob triumphantly to his father, who sat in a chair adjoining. "Now watch the old girl jump ahead when Paul throws back the brake lever and his brother lifts the third wheel and gives her more gas!"

The changes were made even as he spoke; the propeller's hum grew into a mild roar through the cabin walls, and the Sky-Bird leaped away over the ground, gaining momentum at every yard. To the surprise of even two such veteran flyers as John Ross and Tom Meeks, the airplane had gone less than fifty yards when she began to rise as gracefully as a swallow in response to her up-turned ailerons and elevators. In less than ten seconds she was well up over the fair-grounds, and the roofs of all the buildings in the neighborhood were seen below them.

John kept the machine mounting at a good angle until the altimeter showed them to be up two thousand feet. Then he straightened out the ailerons and elevators, and began to run on a level keel. The other inmates of the cabin noticed, by looking through the observation windows, that he was gradually bearing in a great circle about the town of Yonkers. Off to the northwestward were the rugged blue crags of the Catskills, covered with patches of milk-white snow, and just in front, winding like a huge serpent among the picturesque foothills, was the sparkling Hudson, dwindling away to a mere silver thread in the north, tapering away in the same manner toward the south, where it lapped the piers of the city of New York and immediately afterward lost itself in the waters of the Upper Bay. Although the great skysc.r.a.pers of the big city itself could be dimly seen, they looked very small at that distance.

Directly below them our friends could make out the familiar buildings and landmarks of their own town as they swept past one by one, John purposely flying at reduced speed so that a clearer vision could be had. He also shot down to within a thousand feet, presently, as he saw his own home approaching. Someone, whom both John and Paul immediately recognized as their mother, stood in the door waving a handkerchief.

In recognition, Paul drew down one of the sliding windows, and put out his head and fluttered his own handkerchief. Shortly afterward--it seemed not more than a minute--the machine was over Shadynook Hill, and Bob and his father were waving a similar salute to Mrs. Giddings.

As they swept on, men and women and children could be seen looking up from the streets beneath. Most of these people were used to seeing airplanes, but obviously the bright finish of the Sky-Bird II, and its striking eagle-like appearance created more than pa.s.sing notice.

Those in the cabin were amazed to note how effectually the new m.u.f.fler and the walls of the cabin shut out the sounds of operation. It was very easy for them to talk back and forth with each other by using a fairly strong pitch of voice, even when the machine was running at a good rate, as it now began to do, for John once more gave the engine more gas, and turned the airplane skyward. Up, up they shot like a rocket. The hand on the dial of the altimeter moved along steadily--it reached 2 again, pa.s.sed to 3, 4, 5, 6; the earth seemed literally to be falling away from them. All at once, when they were between six and seven thousand feet high, and watching the minute patches of color far below, which represented buildings, houses, hills, and the like, these objects were swept away, and through the gla.s.s plates of the cabin floor they could see nothing but a gray vapor below them. It was also around them.

"We're pa.s.sing up through a cloud," said Bob to his father, who had never been in an airplane before. A moment or two later, the boy added, as the blue sky could once more be seen below, "Now we're above it, dad."

"It seems to be getting colder," remarked Mr. Giddings.

"It always gets colder the higher one goes," informed Paul.

"I hope you're not getting cold feet, dad?" grinned Bob.

"Oh, I'm comfortable, thank you," laughed his father. "Say, son, isn't this as good a time as any to try out the merits of that wireless 'phone of yours? Can you work it from this height?"

"I don't know why I can't--and three times higher," Bob said; "we'll try it right now. When I left home I told Sis to mind the set there in my room, and watch for my signal. We'll see now if I can get in touch with her."

So saying, Bob put on the wireless helmet, threw the switch, and kept repeating, "h.e.l.lo, Sis! h.e.l.lo, Sis! h.e.l.lo, Sis!" for a few moments in the transmitter. Then he said, after a brief silence: "I get you, Betty. Won't answer you now, as I want dad to talk to you."

With that Bob smiled, removed the headpiece, and slipped it over his father's head, exchanging seats with him.

Mr. Giddings now heard a voice--the voice of his own daughter--asking quite distinctly:

"Do you hear me, daddie?"

"I certainly do, Betty," said he; "where are you?"

"Here at home--up in Robert's room. I never thought I'd be sometime talking with you when you were flying through the air. Mother just called upstairs and says she can't see the Sky-Bird any longer. Where are you now?"

"Up above the clouds somewhere just north of Yonkers," replied Mr.

Giddings laconically.

"Oh, goodness! I must run right down and tell mother. Please don't go too high or too far, daddie, will you?" came the clearly agitated tones of the daughter. "Is Robert all right?"

"Indeed he is. We'll soon be back with you and tell you all about it.

Everything is working perfectly. Good-bye, Betty!"

And Mr. Giddings arose with a pleased laugh, and hung up the helmet.

"I'll take off my hat to you, Robert," he said. "I never thought your fussing at home all these years with electric batteries, buzzers, and what not, would amount to anything like this."

The Sky-Bird II was now running straight ahead with the speed of the wind, John giving the craft more and more gas, and crowding her pretty close to the limit. The wind swept by both sides of the streamlike cabin with a rushing sound like the distant roar of a huge cataract; the flexible window gla.s.s gave slightly to its pressure, but there was no sign of it breaking. One minute they were in the midst of a c.u.mulus cloud; the next, through it. Now they saw the faint outline of the earth, now sky; now the earth was screened by cloud, but above were the blue heavens.

"Guess how fast we're making it now?" cried John, one eye on the dial which connected with the propeller-shaft.

"A hundred miles," ventured Mr. Giddings.

"Hundred and thirty," guessed Paul and Bob.

"Hundred and eighty," stated the more experienced Tom.

"All too low," said John. "We're going just exactly two hundred and fifty, if this speedometer doesn't lie!"

He now announced that he was going to throw in the idle engine. This was done successfully, and under the extra power they were soon making the remarkable speed of three hundred miles an hour! John then slowed up and disconnected first one motor and then the other, the airplane continuing to fly with unimpaired smoothness.

As a last test, he dropped to a level of three thousand feet, at which time they were considerably north of Albany, and throwing the automatic-pilot into operation calmly removed his hands and feet from every control except the rudder. In this fashion they ran for fifteen or twenty miles on a perfectly even keel, the apparatus automatically working the elevators and ailerons of the craft as various wind currents tended to disturb its equilibrium. At length, John gave a little twist to the rudder, and the way the Sky-Bird began to circle, and to bank of her own accord, was a splendid sight to behold. No hawk, sailing over a barnyard in quest of an unwary fowl, could have performed the trick more beautifully.

As the flyers now headed for home they were all much elated at the success of the first flight of the new airplane. And as it gracefully swooped down into the fair-grounds a little later, coming to a stop in a surprisingly short run over the ground owing to her braking feature, this elation was increased.

CHAPTER X

FINAL PREPARATIONS

After getting out of the airplane, Mr. Giddings was thoughtful for some minutes. Nor did he speak until the boys had pushed the machine into the hangar. Then he said, with deep earnestness:

"Young men, a great load has been removed from my mind by this recent performance of the Sky-Bird II. I have now not the slightest doubts of her adaptability to make a round-the-world trip, and if she performs then as she did this morning, we are not only going to defeat the _Clarion_'s crew, but we are going to smash all existing records for a journey of the kind. I wish to know if you really think you could operate this machine steadily night and day, say for a couple of weeks, stopping only for fuel and food?"

"By alternating the engines--yes, sir; no doubt of it," declared John Ross without a moment's hesitation, while Tom Meeks nodded his frowsy head energetically.

"Then," said Mr. Giddings, "you may consider that's what the entire four of you will have to do in a few months, as soon as we can pick out a route and get fuel supplies at the different airports or stops for you. John, you and Tom may consider yourselves under salary right on until after this race; there will be enough for you to do, helping me with arrangements and taking care of the airplane."

"Well, but how about Paul and me, dad?" broke in Bob anxiously; "aren't we going to have anything to do?"

"Oh, you two will have enough to do going to school, I think," laughed Mr. Giddings; "but, to satisfy you, I will let you both help John and Tom select a route and make out a schedule. Do this just as soon as you can, so that I may be able to give Mr. Wrenn, the publisher of the _Clarion_, a copy. He can then make intelligent preparations for his own crew. I am going to give my rival every consideration in this matter, so that he cannot do any howling if we beat him. It must be an out-and-out fair race, do you understand?"

All nodded.

"Have you heard anything about the other crew yet, Mr. Giddings?"

inquired Paul. "I mean, do you know what sort of a craft they are going to use, or who is going to fly against us?"

"I am as much in the dark about those points as you young men," was the reply. "I judge that Mr. Wrenn, who is an astute business man, will keep us in ignorance of his personnel until the last minute. The fact is, I am going to treat him to a dose of his own medicine in this respect. So be careful not to let the public get close to this machine, and talk with no one about it."