CHAPTER XIII
THE STRANGE AIRPLANE
The first thing the boys did the following morning, after spending thenight at the home of Mr. Choate, was to go down to the beach and see iftheir airplane was all right. They found one of the two negroes asleep,but the other fellow was faithfully on guard, and everything about theSky-Bird seemed just as they had left it, although the watchers said thata considerable number of curious townspeople had come to look at themachine the day before and they had been very busy keeping venturesomeboys off the craft.
Our friends let the negroes go to get their breakfasts and some sleep,and engaged two others to take up the watch. Following this, in companywith Mr. Choate, they all retired to the bathhouse, secured bathing suitsand had a fine time disporting themselves in the warm surf for the nexthour. The youths had never experienced Gulf Stream bathing before, andthe water was so enticing that it was hard to drag themselves out of it.
As they were in the act of emerging to dress themselves, a black speck,which all had noticed in the northern sky, had developed by nearerapproach so that they thought they could recognize it as an airplane. Itwas coming down the coast very rapidly. Wondering if its pilot intendedto land in the vicinity, they gathered on the beach and curiously waitedfor it to come nearer.
At times they were puzzled to know whether the approaching object werereally an airplane or a great bird, for it surely looked like a bird withits swelling breast-line and slightly tilted broad-shouldered wings.Closer and closer it came. It was flying very high.
When it was almost over them, Mr. Giddings uttered a startledejaculation; "My stars, boys! It's _our_ machine!"
Paul and John Ross and Tom Meeks were equally astonished. They hadnoticed the strong resemblance at the same moment. Involuntarily, withMr. Giddings and Mr. Choate, they turned their heads up the beach to seeif the Sky-Bird II was where they had left it.
They saw its huge outline and its patrolling black guards. It had notchanged position. Even a group of gaping Miami citizens lent reality tothe situation, and some of the latter were gazing aloft at the otherflying-machine, as our friends had been doing.
The stranger above them evidently had no intention of stopping. Insteadof circling the town, as he would have done had he intended to land, heswept straight over and kept on his southward course, heading acrossFlorida Strait.
On the face of every one of our friends, as they saw this image of theSky-Bird II cross the sky overhead and disappear in the mists beyond, wasa look of amazement, incredulity, and finally dark suspicion.
"Can it be--?" Mr. Giddings hesitated, and looked inquiringly at hisyounger companions.
"It looks that way," said John Ross, with a reluctant nod.
None needed to explain that the same thought had struck him, also. Thestolen blue-prints--the skulking man with the swarthy face! He hadduplicated the Sky-Bird!
More than that, each recalled the _Clarion's_ secrecy about the kind ofairplane it planned to use; and its willingness to attempt the long"hops" which ordinary machines would have had difficulty in negotiating.It all pointed to but one logical meaning. And Bob Giddings expressedthe opinion of all when he observed:
"Dad, I believe there goes our prospective competitor in the race aroundthe world! He's making for Panama now!"
Further comment on the situation would have been useless. All hands,each with disturbing thoughts of his own, went silently into thebathhouse and resumed his regular garb.
Mr. Choate and his wife begged them so hard to remain over another day atleast that Mr. Giddings assented. That afternoon they went for a longautomobile ride along improved roads, both sides of which were lined withpalms in places, luxuriant tropical grasses in others, and toweringforests covered with creeping vines. They stopped the car a number oftimes to visit great orange groves, and the boys had their first taste ofthe luscious fruit just as it ripened on the trees.
The following morning, directly after breakfast, they were besieged bytwo or three local newspaper reporters. Seeing no use of furtherconcealing their identity, Mr. Giddings gave out a little information tothe gleeful newspaper men, but was careful to wire in to his ownnewspaper much more detail of their doings since leaving Yonkers, evenmailing some photographs which they had taken of the tussle with the bigdevil-fish.
In the afternoon our party paid a visit to the aquarium again, extendingit to the Biological Laboratory nearby; and took supper in the beautifulwhite casino, which fronts the beach, after they had had a refreshingplunge in the ocean's waters. Then Paul and Bob took up Mr. and Mrs.Choate for a short flight in the airplane.
Early the next morning they bade their Miami friends good-bye, and oncemore took to the air, this time to complete the last leg of their journeyto Panama. It was found that the Sky-Bird's fuel tanks were apparentlystill full enough to carry them to their destination, so it had not beennecessary to store either gasoline or oil in Miami. This was verygratifying, as it showed quite conclusively that, later on in the race,the Sky-Bird would be able to make her longest jumps without the peril offuel shortage.
At a height of close to two thousand feet they headed across FloridaStrait, with Paul at the throttle. It was a real joy to be lookingthrough the glass panels of the airplane's cabin once more, to hear themuffled roar of her engine and propeller, and to realize that probablybefore dark they would be across the five hundred miles of blue waters ofthe Caribbean and hovering over the world-famous Canal Zone.
It was a fine morning. What clouds could be seen were well abovethem--light, billowy, and white, reflecting the sunlight so strongly uponthe white-capped waters below, that the sea seemed much closer to thevoyagers than it really was.
Shortly after eight o'clock they crossed over the long, low-lying islandof Cuba, dipping down close enough to get a fairly good view of thetopography. Then rising to three thousand feet, they swerved a little tothe eastward and made off across the Caribbean Sea itself.
At a few minutes of eleven they sighted the shore of Jamaica, five milesor so to the eastward of them. Then John took the throttle, both engineswere put into the work, and they began to whizz through the air at a clipwhich would have made them gasp for breath had they been in an opencockpit. As it was, the rush of air as it swept along each side of thefuselage and off its narrowing tail, became a veritable howl in whosenoise they found conversation very difficult. Tom Meeks, who was leaningover John's shoulder and watching the instrument-board, triumphantlyannounced presently that they were traveling at the rate of 280 miles anhour!
For thirty minutes or more John Ross kept the Sky-Bird going at thisterrific speed, then he slowed up, and transferred into mono-engine gear,as there was no use in unnecessarily heating the power-plants. As theindicator of the speedometer retreated to 150 miles, he turned thethrottle over to Bob Giddings, and said: "Hold her at this rate, Bob;it's plenty fast enough for the present."
It was a little after one o'clock when Paul and Tom announced land to thewestward. After looking at the object, which surely had the appearanceof land, Mr. Giddings laid down the glasses and consulted the chart.
"That's undoubtedly the outer point of Nicaragua," he said; and upontaking a look themselves with the binoculars, the others all agreed withhim.
Keeping the low-lying coastline of the continent on their right, andbuffeted considerably by contrary winds which now began to makethemselves manifest, Bob threw the automatic-pilot into gear at asuggestion from John, as this insured greater safety, and steered withthe rudder only. At once the riding became easier, for the moment a gustof wind hit the machine on one side, the elevators and ailerons shiftedand counteracted its uneven effect.
After a while Bob turned slightly to the eastward, and aboutmid-afternoon they came in sight of Colon, the Atlantic terminal city ofthe great Canal. Sweeping over its collection of houses, at an elevationof about fifteen hundred feet, they passed the big white Gatun locks, andfollowed the trail of the Panama Railroad across the great neck of
ruggedland which joined North and South America--followed, too, the tortuous,wonderful channel which American enterprise had cut through.
Thus over Gatun Lake they flew, over the Chagres River; along the courseof Culebra Cut, with its high banks, across the Pedro Miguel andMiraflores locks on the other side of the isthmus; over Ancon; andfinally below them lay clustered the white-robed buildings of Panamaitself, with the swelling blue reaches of the big Pacific to thesouthward and westward, and the bold shore-line of South America to thesoutheastward.
Looking down as they circled the narrow tongue of land on which the cityproper nestled, our friends soon made out the big Governmentlanding-field and airdrome, distinguished by its whitewashed cobblestonemarkers at either end. And, now, as the Sky-Bird II swooped downward,several attendants in white pantaloons could be seen running out of thebuilding.
When the airplane had settled, these men came up. Two were short, blackfellows, probably San Blas Indians; but the other two were whites, thoughwell-burned by the tropical suns. The taller of the white men introducedhimself as Henry Masters, superintendent of the landing-field, and wasextremely courteous when he learned the identity of the new-arrivals.
"We have been looking for you gentlemen," said he, "and I'm glad to knowyou had such a fine run from Miami. There are a lot of strangers intown--been arriving for the last three or four days--all to witness thestart of this big race. Most of them seem to be newspaper men from theStates, though there are a number from South America, and even Africa andEurope. Is this the plane that you fellows representing the _DailyIndependent_ are going to fly in?"
"This is the one, Mr. Masters," responded John.
"It is a beauty," said the superintendent with enthusiasm, as he glancedover the graceful outlines of the Sky-Bird. "I never saw one built onthese lines until the other day, when what seems to be its twin came in."
"Much like-um lot," remarked one of the natives, and his companion, addedmore concisely: "Same like-um lot."
In spite of the fact that our party had been fearing some suchinformation as this upon reaching Panama, the actual announcement of itmade their hearts jump wildly.
"Where is this machine now?" asked Mr. Giddings as calmly as he could.
"In the hangar," was the reply of Masters. "It is the one that is goingto fly against you."
"Who is in charge of it?" inquired John Ross.
"Five arrived in it. Four of them are to be in the contest, they say.The other gentleman is Mr. Wrenn, of the New York _Clarion_."
A few minutes later, when they pushed the Sky-Bird into one of the bigdouble hangars, their suspicions were conclusively clinched. For thereat one side stood the very counterpart of their own airplane, differingonly in the name painted upon its sides and under its big hollow wings.These letters spelled "_Clarion_"!