Of course the journey could have been made in much less time than
that, for Dick's motor was calculated to give a maximum speed of
one hundred miles an hour. But this was straining it to its
capacity. It would be much more feasible, at, least on this trial
trip, to use half that speed. Later, if need be, they could go to
the limit.
They had started late in the afternoon, and by journeying at fifty
miles an hour they would reach the upper part of New York city in
the morning; that is if nothing occurred to delay them. But the
weather predictions were favorable, and no storms were in prospect.
"I think I'll take her up a bit," remarked Dick, when they had
passed out over the open country, lying outside of Hamilton Corners.
"We might as well get used to good heights, for when we cross the
Rocky Mountains we'll have to ascend some."
"That's right," agreed the lieutenant. "Take her up, Dick."
The young millionaire pulled over the lever of the vertical rudder,
and as the nose of the Abaris was inclined upward, she shot aloft,
her big propellers in the rear pushing her ahead.
"I'm going out on the outer deck and see how it seems," said Larry.
"I want to get some new impressions for the paper. I told the
editor we'd pull off a lot of new stunts. So I guess I'll go
outside."
"No, you won't, said Lieutenant McBride, laying a detaining hand on
the arm of the reporter. "Do you see that notice?"
He pointed to one over the door.
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