Vardon, who wanted to look over the machinery, for possible
heated bearings, all went out on the railed deck. Grit, the
bulldog, followed closely on the heels of Dick.
"Be careful, old man," said the young millionaire to his pet.
"There's no rail close to the deck, you know, and you may slip
overboard."
They stood for a few moments viewing the scene while thus flying
along through the air. The colors of the sunset were constantly
changing, becoming every moment more gorgeous.
Suddenly there was a swerve to the airship, and it tilted sharply
to one side.
"Look out!" cried Dick, as he grasped the protecting railing, an
example followed by all. "What's up?"
"We're falling!" shouted Paul.
"No, it's just an air pocket," was the opinion of Lieutenant
McBride. "We'll be all right in another moment."
They were, but before that Grit, taken unawares, had slid
unwillingly to the edge of the open deck.
"Look out for him!" shouted Dick, making a grab for his pet.
But he was too late. The deck was smooth, and the bulldog could
get no grip on it. In another instant he had toppled over the edge
of the platform, rolling under the lowest of the guard rails.
"There he goes!" cried Paul.
Dick gave a gasp of despair. Grit let out a howl of fear.
And then, as Larry Dexter leaned over the side, he gave a cry of
surprise.
"Look!" he shouted. "Grit's caught by a rope and he's hanging there
by his teeth!"
And, as Dick looked, he saw a strange sight.
Pages:
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184