Chapter XI. A Storm at Sea - Page 2

airship. And this was not hard to do.

Naturally, in a craft that had to carry a heavy load, and lift itself into the air, as well as propel itself along, not many things could be taken. Every ounce counted. Still our friends were not without their comforts. There was a well stocked kitchen, and Mr. Damon insisted on installing himself as cook. This had been Eradicate's work but the eccentric man knew how to do almost everything from making soup to roasting a chicken, and he liked it. So he was allowed free run of the galley.

Tom and Ned spent much time in the steering tower or engine room, for, though all of the machinery was automatic, there was need of almost constant attention, though there was an arrangement whereby in case of emergency, the airship would steer herself in any set direction for a certain number of hours.

There were ample sleeping quarters for six persons, a living room and a dining saloon. In short the Falcon was much like Tom's Red Cloud, only bigger and better. There was even a phonograph on board so that music, songs, and recitations could be enjoyed.

"Bless my napkin! but this is great!" exclaimed Mr. Damon, about noon of the second day, when they had just finished dinner and looked down through the glass windows in the bottom of the cabin at the rolling ocean below them. "I don't believe many persons have such opportunities as we have."

"I'm sure they do not," added Mr. Petrofsky. "I can hardly think it true, that I am on my way back to Siberia to rescue my dear brother."

"And such good weather as we're having," spoke Ned. "I'm glad we didn't start off in a storm, for I don't exactly like them when we're over the water."

"We may get one yet," said Tom. "I don't just like the way the barometer is acting. It's falling pretty fast."

"Bless my mercury tube!" cried Mr. Damon. "I hope we have no bad luck on this trip."

"Oh, we can't help a storm or two," answered Tom. "I guess it won't do any harm to prepare for it."

So everything was made snug, and movable articles on the small exposed deck of the airship were lashed fast. Then, as night settled down, our friends gathered about in the cheerful cabin, in the light of the electric lamps, and talked of what lay before them.

As Mr. Damon could steer as well as Tom or Ned, he shared in the night watch. But Mr. Petrofsky was not expert enough to accept this responsibility.

It was when Mr. Damon finished his watch at midnight, and called Tom, that he remarked.

"Bless my umbrella, Tom. But I don't like the looks of the weather."

"Why, what's it doing?"

"It isn't doing anything, but it's clouding up and the barometer is going down."

"I was afraid we were in for