<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXX">CHAPTER XXX<br/> <span class="cheaderfont">THE MOST TERRIBLE ACCIDENT OF ALL</span></h2>
<p>“What in goodness’ name is the matter down
there? Where did that shell strike us?” shouted
Ned, anxiously, through the speaking tube, while
both Alan and Bob tumbled downstairs in answer
to Buck’s frantic appeal from the engine room.</p>
<p>“Put on every ounce of pressure you can,”
they signalled up to the boy in the pilot room
presently. He did so, and for a bit the <em>Flyer</em>
showed a spurt of her old speed, leaving the
Zeppelin a dwindling speck in the distance.
Within twenty minutes, however, despite the
application of every power appliance in the
equipment, the speed again began to diminish
until the airship was not making more than
fifteen miles an hour.</p>
<p>As the velocity gradually decreased, the huge
wing-like exterior planes automatically unfolded,
but, to the horror of the boys, no sooner had they
attained full expansion than the whole lateral
series on the right side of the hull collapsed into
mere wreckage, dragging the <em>Flyer</em> violently<span class="pagenum">[237]</span>
over in that direction and hurling the young
aeronauts off their feet.</p>
<p>The bursting shell had indeed done effective
damage. It had struck the armored magnalium
hull just about amidships, ploughed its way
through the metal, leaving a great jagged hole in
the twisted sheets of steel, and had exploded just
outside the engine room, one partition of which
was demolished with various alarming damage to
the machinery. At the same time, some flying
pieces of the exploding shell must have struck
the exterior plane and propulsion mechanism,
snapping the supports and rendering the entire
outside wings wholly useless.</p>
<p>In his confusion, when the right lateral plane
series collapsed, Ned threw on every particle of
power at his command, mindful that an increase
of the vessel’s velocity would cause the disabled
planes to fold away again automatically out of
the wind and so lessen the imminent danger of
overturning. The acceleration was only momentary
though, and the <em>Ocean Flyer</em> seemed in danger
of rolling over sidewise at any minute.</p>
<p>“Ned, shut off ‘juice’ on those main outside
propellers and try to run on the interior auxiliary
propeller!” yelled Buck up the speaking tube.</p>
<p>“That ought to give us a little extra speed while<span class="pagenum">[238]</span>
we are trying to cut away the plane wreckage
which is dragging us over sidewise!”</p>
<p>Ned was rattled. He had not thought of that
before, but he instantly did as he was bid.
Despite the damaged mechanism, the <em>Flyer</em>
responded to this new application of power and
speeded up until a fifty mile an hour velocity was
registered on the instruments.</p>
<p>Leaving Buck on his knees beside the half-incapacitated
engines, Alan and Bob seized sharp
axes and rushed out upon the exterior runways
extending two-thirds of the way around the hull.
A cry of astonishment burst from both boys
simultaneously:</p>
<p>“The sea! We are passing out over the
ocean!”</p>
<p>It was true. Dim in the distance behind
them stretched the broken coast line of Germany,
while beneath, to north, to east, to west,
tossed the angry gray waters of the North Sea.
The misty shape of the British Isles lay like a
low-hanging cloud to the southwest. Almost
directly below the airship a huge merchant vessel
could be seen steaming grandly along.</p>
<p>“Say, I wish that we were all down there
aboard that big ship instead of where we are,”
said Allan.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum">[239]</span></p>
<p>“Not for me!” replied Bob, emphatically.
“Don’t you remember hearing how both the
English and Germans have declared an absolute
embargo on all merchant ports and have mined
the entire ocean to interrupt each other’s commerce?
Dangerous as our position up here now
is, I’d lots sooner be here in a crippled airship
than down there.”</p>
<p>Even as he spoke, there came a terrific explosion
far down below. Sparks and broken spars
were hurled high. The big merchantman
appeared suddenly to rise straight up on her
beam’s ends. Immense funnels of ocean water
spurted hundreds of feet in the air all around
her and, as the vessel settled down again, she
seemed to snap in the middle and to disintegrate
as if the bolts and bars from every clinch and
support had been suddenly removed. Her stern
began slowly disappearing beneath the churning,
white-crested waves. Fire broke out amidships
and dense volumes of black smoke half
obscured the terrible disaster from the horrified
boys’ view.</p>
<p>They saw the attempted launching of two long
lifeboats. Both were swamped almost before
they had been lowered into the water. The sea
all around the doomed ship became dotted with<span class="pagenum">[240]</span>
human heads and floating pieces of wreckage.
Then, all at once, a whirlpool seemed to form
about the ship and to be dragging it resistlessly
down into the icy depths. The water boiled over
it and nothing save a few scattered bits of driftwood
remained to mark the spot.</p>
<p>Alan shuddered and closed his eyes as he
leaned against the <em>Flyer’s</em> taffrail.</p>
<p>“Awful!” he muttered huskily. “All of
those poor souls—noncombatants at that—hurled
into eternity without warning or provocation.
Do you suppose that the vessel struck a
submerged mine?”</p>
<p>“Either that or it was torpedoed,” answered
Buck. “They say that the whole North Sea and
English Channel swarms with German submarines
for this sort of thing. But quick now,
Alan; to work cutting us free of these dragging
planes, or we ourselves will soon feel the water
at our necks!”</p>
<p>It was hard work getting through those rivet
supports of the huge planes. Bolts had to be
cut away, steel cables to be sawed through, and
seasoned wood supports hacked away. The boys’
hands became sore and calloused, and their fingers
stiffened. Despite the cold air sweeping
past, their faces were damp with perspiration.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum">[241]</span></p>
<p>The airship staggered in bewildering fashion,
but the auxiliary engines kept it going at a speed
that quickly put England beneath them. The
young aeronauts had no leisure to study the
effect of their appearance upon spectators below,
however, for the airship was sagging more and
more surely to one side. Fortunately they passed
over no large towns and so were not fired on.</p>
<p>“At last!” gasped Alan, as with a final
vicious blow he chopped loose the final attachment
of the great lateral planes on his side of
the airships and saw them plunge downward into
the sea.</p>
<p>“Same here!” shouted Bob from the gangway
on the other side. “I’ve just managed to
cut us free over here!”</p>
<p>The beneficial effect of this lightening of the
drag was at once apparent. The <em>Flyer</em> righted
itself and picked up a fair degree of speed. The
elevation was increased to 2,000 feet, where
propulsion was less modified by earthly wind
currents. The little auxiliary propeller was performing
its extra duties gallantly. It was now
getting well along in the afternoon and daylight
was failing rapidly. Far ahead of them showed
a thin rim of silver beyond the dark shadow of
the land.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum">[242]</span></p>
<p>“A river?” questioned Alan.</p>
<p>“The Irish Sea,” replied Ned shortly.</p>
<p>“Where we going to land?” asked Bob, a
bit anxiously.</p>
<p>“It’s not safe here. I had thought of crossing
to the coast of Ireland and following along as
far as our gas holds out—supply’s running
mighty low—in the hopes of getting as close
to Queenstown as we dare. Then we’ll drop in
some deserted spot and arrange to ship the <em>Flyer</em>
back, while we get passage out of Queenstown
for good old New York.”</p>
<p>“But we haven’t the slightest idea where
we are,” objected Alan.</p>
<p>“We’ll know after we hit land again; we’ll
light long enough to get our bearings. Somebody
go down below and relieve Buck. He must be
about worn out.”</p>
<p>But Buck refused to leave the wrecked engine
room, where, stripped to the waist and grease
from head to foot, he still tinkered with the
faulty-acting machinery. In spite of his efforts
the speed gauge needle steadily shifted back. A
bare twenty miles an hour was all it showed.</p>
<p>Sunset flamed across the sky. Then gloaming
came, and by and by the stars appeared one
by one.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum">[243]</span></p>
<p>Towards midnight there was a perceptible
lessening of the airship’s momentum which no
mechanical efforts of Alan in the pilot room
could counteract. When the velocity had
decreased to ten miles per hour, he grew so
alarmed that he was tempted to call Ned and Bob.</p>
<p>“But no!” said he. “They are worn out,
poor fellows. As long as there’s no land in
sight I’ll let them sleep as long as I dare.”</p>
<p>It was about five in the morning when Buck’s
voice coming up through the speaking-tube
startled Alan out of the doze into which he had
fallen as he sat there at the wheel.</p>
<p>“What is it, Buck?” Alan asked anxiously.
“Nothing new has developed, has there?”</p>
<p>The voice at the other end of the tube was
hoarse with desperation:</p>
<p>“Wake up the other boys! Quick, Alan!
This is the end! The sulphuric ether and gasoline
won’t mix properly in the engines any
longer. Two of the magnalium cylinders are
damaged beyond all hopes of repair and I can’t
get any concussion in the explosion chambers.
The ammonia fans are gradually slowing down
and the turbines are getting red hot. Within
ten minutes more the engines will stop altogether
and we will drop into the sea like so much
lead. This is the last of the <em>Ocean Flyer</em>.”</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum">[244]</span></p>
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