o whoever was hit by it. So extreme caution had to be used.

To add to the troubles it began to rain violently, and a thunderstorm
developed, which made matters worse. Out in the pelting storm, with
electrically-charged clouds all about them, and vivid streaks of
lightning hissing near them, the aviators worked.

They were drenched to the skin. Their hands were bruised and cut by
slipping wrenches and hammers. Their faces were covered with black
grease, dirt and oil. But still they labored on. The storm grew
worse, and it was all the Abaris could do to stagger ahead, handicapped
as she was by half power.

But there were valiant hearts aboard her, and everyone was imbued with
indomitable courage.

"We're going to do it!" Dick cried, fiercely, and the others echoed his
words.

Finally, after many hours of work, the last rivet was driven home, and
Mr. Vardon cried:

"There we are! Now then, full speed ahead!"

The repaired propeller was thrown into gear. It meshed perfectly, and
once more the Abaris shot ahead under her full power.

"Speed her up!" cried Dick, and the motor was put to the limit. But
much precious time had been lost. Could they win under such adverse
circumstances? It was a question each one asked himself.

Darkness came on, and the tired and weary aviators ate and slept. The
night passed, a clear, calm night, for the storm had blown itself out.
High over the mountains soared the airship through the hours of
darkness. She was fighting to recover what she had lost.

And when morning came they calculated they were but a few hundred miles
from San Francisco.

Paul, who had gone to the pilot-house to relieve Innis, gave a startled
cry.

"Look! Look!" he shouted. "There's the other airship!"

And as the others looked they saw, ahead of them, emerging from the
midst of a cloud, Uncle Ezra's speedy craft. And, as they looked, they
saw something else--something that filled them with horror.

For, as they gazed at the craft which had so nearly, either by accident
or design, wrecked them, they saw one of the big side planes crumple
up, as does a bird's broken wing. Either the supports had given way,
or a sudden gust of air strained it too much.

"They're falling!" cried Dick, hoarsely.

The other airship was. The broken plane gave no support on that side,
and as the motor still raced on, whirling the big propellers, the
Larabee, unevenly balanced, in spite of the mercury stabilize