<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXXI">CHAPTER XXXI<br/> <span class="cheaderfont">THE END OF THE OCEAN FLYER</span></h2>
<p>Ned and Bob were immediately awakened and
a hasty examination of the engines showed
plainly the terrible truth of Bob’s prophecy.</p>
<p>“We’ll drop like a rock!” he repeated
hoarsely, trying to control the tremor in his voice.</p>
<p>The boys stared at each other, blank horror
in each face.</p>
<p>“Oh, if only we had not been forced to chop
away the big wing planes,” groaned Alan.
“With them spread, the force of our fall would
surely have been checked and given us at least
a fighting chance for our lives!”</p>
<p>“No use of crying over spilt milk,” said Ned.
“We’ve got to decide upon something quickly.
The engines are slowing down now and a fall
of 2,000 feet upon the surface of the Atlantic
will dash us to pieces just as surely as if we hit
bed rock. What can we do?”</p>
<p>“Nothing,” answered Bob with grim resignation,
“nothing except to shake hands and tell
each other we hope to meet in the hereafter<span class="pagenum">[245]</span>
again. We are doomed, boys, and you all
know it.”</p>
<p>Outside it was already getting light. Morning
sunlight blushed rosily over the eastern sky, and
the gray tossing surface of the pitiless ocean far
below became dimly visible. At first sight it
appeared to be wholly devoid of any sail, but
closer inspection through the binoculars finally
brought to view a large ship beating its way
toward them, perhaps three miles to the north.
Long streams of smoke hung on the horizon line
in its wake.</p>
<p>“See!” exclaimed Ned. “One of the big
passenger liners—a Cunarder by her build, I
should guess. If only they were near enough to
see and save us!”</p>
<p>“No hope,” muttered Bob dully.</p>
<p>“<em>The wireless!</em>” yelled Buck, springing suddenly
to his feet. “We can signal to them with
that!”</p>
<p>In a trice he was gone and his nervous fingers
were flashing out a frantic call.</p>
<p>“<em>S. O. S! S. O. S! S. O. S!</em>”</p>
<p>Two more seconds passed. Then a blue electric
spark leaped across the instrument. The big
ocean liner had intercepted the message and was
asking for information.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum">[246]</span></p>
<p>Buck’s fingers ticked out his plea like lightning:</p>
<p>“Airship falling three miles south of you ... help
quickly ... help quickly.”</p>
<p>The eagerly watching boys by the portholes
could see the effect of this message upon the
distant vessel. Great volumes of black smoke
began to vomit from her three funnels as full
steam ahead was put on. Her course was changed
slightly and she forged as rapidly as might be
in their direction. Tiny black figures could be
seen crowding the decks and rigging of the distant
liner.</p>
<p>The boys were a-quiver with excitement and
hope until a sudden, unaccustomed quiet around
them forced itself upon their notice.</p>
<p>“What is it?” queried Bob.</p>
<p>Ned answered him quietly:</p>
<p>“Boys, the engines have stopped running—we
are about to fall!”</p>
<p>Each was ashamed to show the mortal fear
that agitated him. White-faced they gripped
hands in silent farewell.</p>
<p>“Hurry now,” Ned cried, in command to the
very last, “run and get into pneumatic life-jackets
and each one lash his hands to the
handle of a parachute. When once the <em>Flyer</em>
begins to drop, we’ll have to jump quick, or the<span class="pagenum">[247]</span>
force of the contrary air will turn our chutes
inside out. Be quick, boys!”</p>
<p>For perhaps three minutes the <em>Ocean Flyer</em>
hung motionless, as if suspended there in the
air. Then she wavered slightly and suddenly
the stupendous plunge straight downwards began.</p>
<p>With each passing second, as earth gravity
took a more relentless hold upon the falling vessel,
the momentum increased until it attained a
velocity past computing. Like a stone it whizzed
down through the whistling air to an unmarked
resting place in the foam-crested waves far below.</p>
<p>All of the four boys jumped wide out from the
outer taffrail the instant the fall began. Their
parachutes spread and bellied to meet the
upward rush of air, which struck the stout
umbrella-like frames with a reactionary force
that nearly tore the boys’ arms from their sockets.
The <em>Ocean Flyer</em> shot swiftly down past
them before their own more gradual descent
became perceptible.</p>
<p>Down, down, down, down, through seemingly
endless space they sank with that intolerable
strain on their arms and the blood pounding
madly at their temples.</p>
<p>Down, down, down!</p>
<p>Ned ventured a hasty glance below him. There<span class="pagenum">[248]</span>
swung the big Cunard liner not a quarter of a
mile away. There raced the lifeboats filled with
jackies in white, bending rhythmically to and fro,
while the long oars glistened like silver in the
morning sun. A raucous blast of encouragement
from the liner’s whistles half stunned the senses.</p>
<p>Ned closed his eyes again. It seemed as if he
had been hours floating down through the air.
Had it not been for the stout cords which
secured his blue, swollen wrists to the handle of
the parachute, he could not have kept his hold.</p>
<p>Hearty shouts—<em>English</em> words—resounded
almost beneath him. A little puff of wind carried
the parachute off a hundred yards to one
side and then it began sinking again.</p>
<p>Ned felt something icy cold lave, submerge and
rise higher and higher up around his body. It
was the waves.</p>
<p>Up they crept, first to his ankles, then to his
thighs, then above his waist, then closed around
his neck. The parachute collapsed, but the pneumatic
life-jacket buckled around him buoyed Ned
up. The spray buffeted saltily against his mouth
and smarted in his eyes. His body became numb
from the chill of the icy water. Then—</p>
<p>“All aboard there, mates!” shouted gruff,
cheery voices, and strong hands seized upon Ned<span class="pagenum">[249]</span>
and dragged him half-insensible into the lifeboat.
Alan and Buck were already huddled shivering
there, and Bob was rescued a few minutes later.</p>
<p>Propelled by the powerful arms of sixteen
sailors, the lifeboat fairly leaped over the waves
toward where hundreds of curious, pitying faces
lined the taffrails of the big liner.</p>
<p>“Where are you bound?” asked Bob of the
boatswain.</p>
<p>“From Liverpool to New York, U. S. A.,”
came the cheery answer. “We’ll sight the
Statue of Liberty in the harbor within six days.”</p>
<p>Ned felt the clasp of Alan’s hand in his.</p>
<p>“Well, we’ve seen the last of the <em>Ocean
Flyer</em>,” Alan said drearily. “We’ve lost the
finest craft of its kind in existence.”</p>
<p>“Never mind, Alan,” answered Ned, renewed
vigor sparkling in his eyes. “We’ve accomplished
all that we set out to do and I promise you that,
back in New York again, we’ll build a brave new
airship beside which the old <em>Flyer</em> would have
seemed like a joke. Remember that we’re now
bound for the ‘land of the free.’”</p>
<p>“And ‘the brave,’” rejoined Bob quickly,
casting an affectionate glance over at Alan and
Buck.</p>
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