aul. "Tom and I will stay up a while and see how
things turn out. The Sky-Bird's down to about a hundred an hour now.
Better keep her there, Buddy. That's fast enough in a blow like this."

A few minutes later a fork of lightning split the sky ahead. This was
followed by another off to the right, then by one off to the left.
Then they heard the rumble of thunder, and a heavy gray haze slowly
began to engulf the sea, rapidly approaching.

"That's rain," cried Paul. "Say, John, if you're not too done out
maybe you had better take the stick again; I'm afraid I won't be equal
to what's coming."

His brother complied. John did not wish to frighten his comrades, but
the truth is he knew this would be the worst storm he had ever faced in
his four years of flying.

"We'll try to get above those clouds," he said quietly. He did not
like to tell them just what he thought--that if they did not get above
the clouds without delay they would either be struck by lightning or
torn to pieces by the terrible whirlpool of winds which he knew those
churning black masses ahead contained.

CHAPTER XXIX

A FLYING RESCUE

John turned the Sky-Bird upward at as stiff a slant as he felt would be
safe for them in that high wind. At nine thousand feet they emerged
above the first layer; but eastward the clouds appeared to terrace up
gradually, and in the distance there extended another great wall,
towering several thousand feet higher.

Some of the rain was now beginning to reach them. It came pattering
down upon the roof; and under the strong impulse of wind and their
speed, it struck the glass windows in front with a smack like buckshot.
The moisture on the panes made it difficult to see out.

"Take a reading with the anemometer, Tom," ordered John, straining his
eyes hard ahead.

This little instrument was something like a miniature windmill. Its
four wings were supplied with cups which, as Tom held the instrument
out of the window facing the wind, caused the spider to revolve. The
latter was geared to a small dial, over the face of which passed a
hand, much like a clock, indicating the speed of the wind.

"She's blowing fifty miles an hour, and gaining every minute,"
announced Tom. "That's the hardest wind we've been in yet."

"If we stay down here it will be blowing sixty within ten minutes," was
the pilot's grim response.

Just then there was a blinding flash of light a little way ahead of
them, accompanied