"Lost control!" cried the captain. "Wire snapped! Look out,
everybody!"
Dick wanted to jump, but he knew that would be rash, as they were
still some distance above the ground.
"Can't you guide her?" asked Larson.
"No! We've got to land the best we can!" was the answer.
They were right over a little farm now, and seemed to be headed
directly for a small, low building.
"Something is going to smash!" thought Dick grimly.
The next moment the airship had come down on the roof of the low
farm building, crashing right through it, and a second later Dick
and his companions found themselves in the midst of a squealing lot
of pigs, that fairly rushed over them.
CHAPTER VIII
AT HAMILTON CORNERS
Instinctively, as he felt the airship falling, without being under
control, Dick had loosed the strap that held him to his seat. This
advice had been given as one of the first instructions, to enable
the aviator to leap clear of the craft as it struck.
But, in this case the landing had been such a queer one that there
was no time for any of the three to do the latter. Down on the roof
of the pig sty they had come, crashing through it, for the place was
old and rotten.
It was this very fact, however, that saved them from more serious
injuries than severe joltings. The roof had collapsed, had broken
in the middle, and the squealing porkers were now running wild.
Most of them seemed to prefer the vicinity of the spot near where
the three aviators were now tumbled in a heap, having been thus
thrown by the concussion.
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