CHAPTER VIII

THE DIRIGIBLE BALLOONS

The platform, which was none too solidly built, began to shake and tremble from the efforts of those on it trying to find some means of escape. They rushed about, pushing and shoving, endeavored to reach the stairs, which were so choked and jammed as to render passage down them impossible.

The aeroplane was now within ten feet of the platform, and was only a few feet above it. It had resumed a level keel, but the wind and its momentum were urging it forward, since the man in charge had stopped his motor and the propellers no longer revolved.

“What shall we do?” cried Andy.

“Stoop down! Stoop down!” shouted Jerry. “It may pass over our heads.”

“It’s too low now to do that,” said Ned in a low voice to Jerry. “I guess we’re in for it.”

The excitement was now at its height. Scores were sliding and climbing down the crossed uprights of the platform, getting their hands and clothes full of splinters, but this they did not mind, only so they escaped being swept from the dizzy height.

But suddenly a new danger was presented. The aeroplane dropped in its course and now seemed about to strike the platform at a point below the flooring on which the most of the throng still stood or crouched. Coming on as it was at great speed the airship would probably demolish the frail support, causing the death and injury of many.

Then, with the same suddenness that it had sprung up, the freakish wind shifted and blew at right angles to the course of the plane, and, catching under the broad stretch of muslin and canvas, swerved the ship to one side.

And it was only just in time, for as it rushed past the tower and platform one of the edges of the big box-kite arrangement brushed the guard rail of the structure.

“We’re safe! We’re safe!” cried Andy Rush.

“Yes, I guess there’s no more danger,” admitted Jerry. “But no more of this for mine.”

“Same here,” echoed Ned.

Seeing that the danger was past, the crowd calmed down. They looked for the aeroplane and saw it glide gently to the ground.

“Well, he made a good landing, anyhow,” remarked Bob.

“As long as he didn’t land on us we’re all right,” observed Ned. “My, but that was a close shave! After this I’m going to watch the trials from down below.”

From the standpoint of an aeroplanist the flight was a great success, for the inventor had been in the air for some time, and had covered considerable space. Professor Dundlass did not appear much put out on account of what had happened.

“It vos great! Vunderful!” he exclaimed as the people gathered about him. “Ven I gets me my motor fixed up a bit I dinks I vin der prize. Oh, it vos a great flight.”

Owing to the very evident danger of allowing spectators on the high platform orders were issued soon afterward by the management that no persons, except inventors and their helpers, were to be allowed on it when the aeroplanes were sent off.

“Well, we’ve seen enough for one morning,” remarked Ned, when they had reached the ground and taken another look at the aeroplane. “Let’s get some lunch.”

“Good idea,” declared Jerry. “Come on.”

There were several hastily-constructed restaurants on the carnival grounds, some in wooden buildings and some under tents. The boys voted for a tent, and made their way toward a large one. When they neared it Jerry heard a girl’s voice exclaim:

“There are the motor boys!”

He turned to behold Mollie Horton, one of the girls of Cresville, with whom he and his chums were on friendly terms.

“Hello, Mollie!” called Jerry. “Come and have lunch with us.”

“You’d better wait until you see who’s with me,” she replied. “Perhaps you will wish to recall your invitation. Alice Vines and Helen Gale are right over here.”

“Bring them along,” invited Ned. “That’ll be one apiece for us, and Andy can be chaperon.”

“One what apiece?” asked Bob, who was looking at a man selling box-kites.

“Girls, of course, you chump. Don’t you want a nice girl to take to dinner?”

“Sure!” replied Chunky, looking around. Mollie motioned for Alice and Helen to join her, and soon the merry party were seated at a table beneath a cool tent.

Jerry ordered a substantial lunch, much to Bob’s delight, and finished it off with plates of ice cream.

“What are you girls going to do this afternoon?” asked Jerry as they left the table.

“Oh, just look about,” replied Alice. “We only came on the noon train, and we haven’t seen anything yet. Have you?”

“I should say we had,” replied Ned. “We saw Noddy Nixon try to fly, and we saw a man try out his aeroplane.”

“Did Noddy really fly?” asked Mollie.

“Well, not so’s you could notice it,” replied Ned with grim humor, and the other boys laughed.

“There is going to be an exhibition of dirigible balloons this afternoon,” announced Andy Rush, consulting his program. “We ought to take that in.”

“We sure will,” declared Jerry. “Now, what will we do until it’s time for them?”

“Let’s go for a spin in the car and cool off after dinner,” proposed Bob, and his idea was voted a good one. There was room, with a little squeezing, for all of them, and they went out in the suburbs for several miles, returning in time to see several big balloons in process of inflation.

Hydrogen gas, manufactured on the grounds by means of sulphuric acid and iron filings, was the lifting power of the balloons. There were several of them, built in different shapes and sizes, but on the same principle.

That is, they depended on the lifting power of the gas to get them up in the air. Once elevated there were motors, working propeller blades, to send them along, a box-kite arrangement for slanting up higher or descending, and a rudder to steer to right or left. These attachments were contained in a light framework car, which was fastened to the gas bag by means of a network of cords. All the gas bags were cigar-shaped, none of the old-fashioned globular ones being used.

“This will be worth watching,” prophesied Jerry. “There will be no danger to us, and we can see several in the air at once. There’ll probably be a race. Let’s get a place where there isn’t such a crowd.”

They moved off to one side, where they could get a good view. There were four dirigible balloons in process of inflation. Slowly the oiled silk gas containers filled, as the light hydrogen vapor poured into them. Men were busy about them, straightening out the cords, attaching bags of ballast or adjusting the motors.

The wind had died out to a gentle breeze, and there was every prospect of a successful ascension. On all sides could be heard comments concerning what was about to take place.

“There, they seem to be all ready. All the balloons are filled,” remarked Mollie. “I almost wish I was going up in one.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t! Not for the whole world!” exclaimed Alice.

“Me either. Not for two worlds!” added Helen.

“Hello, there’s another,” remarked Bob as he saw a tent being opened, and the pointed nose of a fifth balloon was poked out.

“So it is,” admitted Jerry. “Say, that’s a queer one. It’s a balloon and aeroplane combined. That’s the stuff. That ought to do all sorts of stunts.”

“That’s the kind I want,” declared Bob. “You wouldn’t run much risk in that. If the gas gave out or the bag busted you could depend on the planes, and if they broke, why, you would be held up by the balloon.”

“Suppose they both broke?” asked Helen.

“Then--oh, then--well, of course----”

But Bob was spared the trouble of finding an answer by a shout from the crowd, which told that something had happened.

An instant later five big bodies shot into the air, as the men holding the balloons to the earth let go of them.

“There they go! There they go!” cried Andy Rush. “It’s a race--the dirigible balloon race! Whoop la!”