Otherwise some other craft
might get in ahead of them.
Yet Dick had said they must go down. There was no other course left
them, in the name of humanity. As the young millionaire had
observed, some of those in the wrecked airship might be alive. They
might survive the fall, great as it was.
"Send her down, Mr. Vardon," said Dick quietly. "We may be able to
save some of them."
If he thought that possibly he was losing his last chance to win
the trans-continental race, he said nothing about it.
The motor was shut off, and there was silence aboard the Abaris.
No one felt like talking. As they volplaned downward they saw the
wreck of the Larabee strike the outer branches of a big tree, and
then turn over again before crashing to the ground.
"She may catch fire from the gasolene," said Dick, in a tense voice.
"We ought to hurry all we can."
"I could go down faster," said Mr. Vardon, "by starting up the
motor. But I don't like to until I see what sort of landing ground
we'll have."
"No, it's wiser to go a bit slowly," agreed Lieutenant McBride.
"We must save ourselves in order to save them--if possible. It's
a terrible accident!"
As they came nearer earth they saw a comparatively smooth and level
spot amid a clearing of trees. It was not far from where the wreck
lay, a crumpled-up mass. Down floated the Abaris gently, and hardly
had she ceased rolling along on her wheels that Dick and the others
rushed out to lend their aid to Uncle Ezra and the others.
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