He did
not even say it was wasteful, when Dick told him how much she cost.
"I know airships are terrible expensive--terrible!" said Mr.
Larabee, as he looked at the note-book in which he had jotted down
every item of money paid for his own.
That Larson had wasted money, and used much of what was given him
for his own purposes was very evident. But it was too late to think
of that now.
Uncle Ezra told of their experiences in crossing the continent.
They had really had excellent luck, and in the hands of a better
aviator, or one more dependable, the Larabee might have won the
race. She was really a good biplane, but could only carry three,
and then with no comfort at all, as compared to Dick's. But the
mercury stabilizers worked fairly well, though not as good as the
gyroscope.
"Yes, I was sorry, more than once, that I ever left Dankville,"
Uncle Ezra said, "but Larson wouldn't let me stop. He kept right
on. I'm sure he was crazy."
On and on rushed the Abaris. She was racing against time now, and
every minute and mile counted. While down on the ground, helping
save Uncle Ezra, Dick had, by wireless, communicated with the army
authorities in San Francisco, telling them he was coming on the last
stage, and asking that a landing-place be designated. This was
done, Presido Park Reservation, on the outskirts of the city being
named as the spot where the craft could officially come down.
"We'll soon be there," remarked Dick, who was at the wheel.
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