But he had feared, several times, that he might be overtaken by
lighter and speedier machines.
Now, it seemed, his fears were about to be realized. For the big
biplane that Grit had first spied, could be none other than one of
those engaged in a try for the twenty-thousand-dollar prize. They
were now nearing the Rockies, and it was not likely that any lone
aviator would be flying in that locality unless he were after the
government money.
"Another airship; eh?" cried Dick. "Let me get a look at her!
Someone take the wheel, please."
"I'll relieve you," offered Lieutenant McBride, whose official
duties allowed him to do this. "Go see if you can make out who she
is, Dick."
The approaching craft had come up from the rear, and to one side,
so she could not be observed from the pilot-house in front.
Catching up a pair of powerful field-glasses, Dick went to where
Paul stood with Grit, looking out of the celluloid window. By this
time some of the others had also gathered there.
"It's a big machine all right," murmured Innis.
"And there are three aviators in her," added Paul.
"Can you make out who they are, Dick?" asked Larry Dexter.
"No, they have on protecting helmets and goggles," replied the young
millionaire, as he adjusted the binoculars to his vision. "But I'm
sure I know that machine!"
"Whose is it?" Innis wanted to know.
"Well, I don't want to be too positive, but I'm pretty certain
that's my Uncle Ezra's craft," replied Dick, slowly.
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