Part 35 (2/2)

”They look pretty good,” said d.i.c.k, when the hardware man came towards them.

”Are good, too. Wouldn't you like to buy a good shooter?” he added, anxious to do business.

”Show me a really good five-shooter,” said d.i.c.k, and several were quickly handed over. He selected one and Tom selected another.

”Have to get one for Sam, too,” whispered Tom.

”Sure,” replied his brother, and this was done, and they also purchased the necessary cartridges.

”Now you are well armed--if anybody tries to steal your airs.h.i.+p,” said Bill Simmons.

”We don't want the machine stolen, or tampered with,” answered d.i.c.k. ”We can't afford to take chances. If a fellow tampered with our machine it might go wrong when it was in the air and we'd get our necks broken.”

And then d.i.c.k and Tom hurried back to the _Dartaway_ carrying the can of gasoline between them. The can was fastened where it belonged,--for the regular tank had still plenty of gasoline in it,--and then the boys sailed away once more, over the winding road leading to Snagtown.

”That's a dandy revolver!” exclaimed Sam, on receiving one of the weapons, with some cartridges. ”And loaded, too! Now I guess we are ready for those rascals!” he added, with satisfaction.

”Remember, we are not to use any firearms unless it becomes absolutely necessary,” said d.i.c.k, firmly.

”Yes, but I am not going to give them a chance to down me and get away with Nellie!” cried Tom, stoutly.

”Oh, no, Tom! We'll not allow that!” returned his big brother, with equal firmness.

”It seems to be getting a bit cloudy,” said Sam, a minute later. ”Wonder if it will rain?”

”I don't think that is rain, Sam,” answered d.i.c.k. ”It's worse than that, for us.”

”You mean wind?”

”Yes.”

d.i.c.k was right, and presently the first puff of the coming breeze hit the _Dartaway_ and sent the aircraft up on a slant. d.i.c.k promptly moved the tips and one of the rudders, and the flying machine came along on a level. But from then on the oldest Rover boy had all he could do to keep to the course, for the breeze became stronger and stronger.

”It's too bad!” murmured Tom, as he clung to his seat. ”Hang the luck!

Why couldn't that wind have kept off for an hour longer!”

”You fellows keep your eyes on the road!” sang out d.i.c.k. ”I've got to give all my attention to the biplane!”

”All right,” was the answer of the others.

After that but little was said, for d.i.c.k had to watch every movement of the _Dartaway_ with care, and his hands and feet were constantly on the alert, to make whatever s.h.i.+ft seemed necessary. Sam and Tom strained their eyes to catch sight of the enclosed touring car, which, they had learned, was painted a dark blue.

The wind kept growing stronger and stronger, coming in fitful gusts that were particularly bad for such a flying machine as the boys possessed.

Once came a gust that sent them spinning far out of their course.

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