before retiring, Bob had wirelessed Panama of their safe passage
through the mountains and fight with the condors, stating that several
snapshots of the birds had been secured and that these would be mailed
to the _Daily Independent_ upon reaching Georgetown.

Not long after the change of pilots a fine rain began to fall, covering
the windows of the cabin with a film of moisture; but as it was now too
dark to see anyhow, John did not care whether he could look outside or
not. However, for the good of the machine, as well as the betterment
of their speed, he decided to get out of the storm. So, switching on
the little dashboard electric lights to illuminate his instruments, he
turned the Sky-Bird upward again. Through the very clouds which were
expelling the rain, gathered from the warm Atlantic trade-winds, he
guided the machine. At nine thousand feet he was above them, in clear
dry air, with a blue, star-studded sky above his head and in the mellow
glow of a full moon.

"Well, John, this is more like night-flying," remarked Tom Meeks, who
sat just behind the pilot, ready to assist him at a moment's notice if
the need should appear.

"As long as I know there are no mountains ahead to smash into I'm not
worrying a bit," replied John, "and I guess we're all right on that
score. I'm going to let the old girl out now, Tom."

"Might as well," was the response.

Thereupon John threw on the gas by degrees until the indicator showed
them to be whizzing along at 150 miles. He easily could have gone
fifty more on the one engine had he chosen, but was afraid such a speed
would carry them beyond their destination and out into the Atlantic
before daylight could show them their position. Had they not
previously been running somewhat behind scheduled time, he would not
have accelerated even now.

Shortly after midnight Tom relieved him at the throttle, and running
slightly slower, to make sure they would not pass over Georgetown in
the darkness, Tom began to hum softly to himself as he kept a sharp
lookout upon his instruments. John settled back in the seat behind, as
alert for any sudden peril as his mate had been before.

But no mishap marred the night's run, which was as smooth up there
above the clouds as any veteran flyer could have wished. And when at
last the bright sun of another day chased the moon and its haze into
obscurity, it lighted up the flying craft some time before its orb had
peeped high enough over