CHAPTER XXVIII

THE RED BALLOON

“Catch him! Save him!” cried Bob.

Ned did not cry out, but he made a convulsive spring for the professor, just as he was disappearing.

Now, Nature had blessed the scientist with a pair of long legs, though she had made his body very short. Consequently, though his body was entirely out of the window, and his head was hanging down toward the earth, his feet had not yet passed over the sill. This Ned saw, and he took advantage of it like a flash.

He grabbed the professor’s ankles with all his strength and threw himself backward to counteract the effect of the pull caused by the involuntary tumble of the little man.

“Grab me, Bob!” cried Ned, and his chum had presence of mind enough to do as he was told without stopping to ask why.

The result was that the professor was caught just in time, and the grips of the two sturdy youths prevented him from falling. But they could not pull him in, as his loose trousers had caught on the sill. All they could do was to hold him there while Jerry, all unconscious of what had happened, was in the steering tower, sending the ship ahead at great speed.

“Help!” cried Bob.

The professor had uttered no sound. Probably he was too frightened. Mr. Glassford heard the cry, and rushed from the sleeping-cabin, half dressed. He saw what had happened, and adding his strength to that of the boys, the poor professor was soon pulled inside the cabin. His face was red, for much blood had run to his head, but otherwise he was calm and collected.

“Look out for the handle of my net,” he said as he stood in the cabin and began to haul in his apparatus for catching specimens.

“What, didn’t you drop your net?” asked Ned in great astonishment.

“And lose that valuable bird?” inquired the professor. “I guess not. I caught it, all right, and have it safe in the net. Here it is.”

He continued to pull the net in, and a moment later showed to his audience a curious bird, with brilliant plumage. The little creature was entangled in the meshes of the net, but the scientist carefully disentangled it, and placed the bird in a small cage.

“That will be a most valuable addition to my collection,” he said. “It is worth all this trip has cost me.”

“But, my dear sir, you might have met a horrible death!” exclaimed Mr. Glassford.

“I didn’t, though,” retorted the professor with a calm smile. “‘A miss is as good as a mile,’ you know.”

“Don’t take any more misses like that,” urged the inventor.

“I probably won’t see any more birds like this one,” was what the scientist replied.

Breakfast was served at a mile and a quarter above the earth, Mr. Glassford having decided to go higher in search of a different current that would carry the _Comet_ in a more southerly direction. The upper regions, however, did not seem to furnish what he wanted, and after sailing along for several miles he decided to drop back toward the earth again. Accordingly, the depression rudder was set, and the pointed nose of the motor ship was aimed at _terra firma_.

They ran into a bank of white, fleecy clouds, and for a time nothing could be seen but them, for the travelers were enveloped as in a dense fog. Then they dropped through that, and saw spread out below them a big open stretch of country.

But something else was also below them. The three boys, who were in the cabin, all saw it at once, and their cry attracted the attention of Mr. Glassford.

“The red balloon!” cried Jerry. “It’s the red balloon from Park Haven! It’s ahead of us! Let’s race it, Mr. Glassford.”

The inventor was not at all unwilling to try conclusions with his rival, especially since a whole day had passed and the red airship was still ahead. It was time for the _Comet_ to show what she could do.

The ship was sent down until it was about on a level with the red balloon. Then Mr. Glassford speeded up the motor to overtake his rival, that was over a mile ahead.

The boys took turns watching it through the telescope, and they could note that the four men on the red craft were also observing them through glasses.

“Do you think we can beat them?” asked Bob anxiously.

“We’ve got to,” replied Jerry. “Leave it to Mr. Glassford.”

The inventor soon sent for Jerry to aid him in the steering tower, and the two were kept busy manipulating the wheels and levers.

“I think I’ll go up a trifle,” announced Mr. Glassford, when at the end of half an hour of speeding they had gained little if anything on the red machine. “There is a slight contrary wind at this level.”

Once more the motor craft ascended. The wisdom of this was at once apparent. Aided by a stiff breeze, blowing in the same direction as that in which the _Comet_ was sailing, she rapidly began to overhaul the red balloon. But the pilot of that was evidently an old hand at the game. He too sent his craft up until it was on a level with the _Comet_. But the latter maintained her advantage, and even increased it, until, that afternoon, the red balloon was only a quarter of a mile ahead.

“Can we beat them?” asked Jerry anxiously.

Mr. Glassford nodded.

“I haven’t run the motor to the limit yet,” he said, “and I fancy they have. I’ll pass them at dusk.”

Mr. Glassford made good his boast. All that afternoon he was slowly creeping up on the red balloon, though the crew of it made strenuous efforts to increase their lead. The inventor of the _Comet_ did not want to speed his motor too much during the heat of the day, as it was air-cooled, and had no water jacket. But as soon as the sun began to decline and it became cooler, he opened it up, and with an increase in the explosions that made it seem as if the _Comet_ was saluting her rival, the motor ship passed the red airship, being several hundred feet above her in the air.

As the motor boys and their friends passed they heard a faint cheer from those below them. They sent back an answering one and continued on.

“Now there’s nothing to stop us from winning the race,” declared Ned.

“Only the fact that there might still be another airship ahead of us,” said Mr. Glassford. “There is no telling about that. One of the other contestants may have outstripped the red balloon.”

The boys had to admit that this might be so, but in their hearts they hoped that it was not the case. For they did want the honor of winning at least one prize, while Bob made no secret of his desire to see both captured.

As night settled down, with the _Comet_ some distance ahead of her nearest rival, there sprang up a stiff wind.

“That’s not what we want,” observed Mr. Glassford with a dubious shake of his head.

“Why?” asked Ned.

“Because it’s forcing us to the west again. I don’t see how we can reach New Orleans at this rate.”

On and on they sped, over mountains and valleys--on and on through the silent night. Ned, Bob and Jerry took turns in the steering tower, so Mr. Glassford could get some rest. On and on rushed the big motor ship, her propellers ceaselessly revolving, and pulling her farther and farther on her course. Only the wind was still contrary, and was forcing them too much to the west.

It was just getting daylight when Jerry awoke with a start. There was a peculiar odor in the air about them. He sniffed vigorously for a second or two, and then leaping from his berth he aroused Mr. Glassford.

“I think something has happened,” he said as quietly as he could. “It smells as if the gas was escaping.”

“It is!” cried the inventor, as he noticed the peculiar odor. “There is a leak in the gas bag. We must stop it. I hope it is not a large one.”