B-o-o-m!

The echoes of the second bomb rang deafeningly.

“They’re off!” yelled the crowd, as if there might have been some doubt of it.

Up into the puffy air winged six aeroplanes.  It was a glorious sight.  From the chassis of the various air craft the airmen waved farewells to the cheering crowd.

Flying, wing and wing, they dashed off toward where the sea lay, a deep blue patch, beyond the shore.  Presently they faded into dots and then were blotted out altogether.

“There’s a thick haze out there,” said one of the officers, as the aeroplanes vanished.

The word ran through the crowd and created a momentary sensation.  Then the big throng dismissed the flying aeroplanes from its mind, and wandered about the grounds gazing openmouthed at the freak types, whose inventors were willing enough—­too willing—­to explain their remarkable points.

It might be a long time before the first of the homing craft would come in sight and what was the use of worrying about them.  Only in the wooden structure housing the naval officers was there any concern displayed.

“If it’s thick weather,” said Lieutenant Bradbury, summing up a discussion, “they’re going to have some trouble on their hands out there.”

CHAPTER XXII.

THE WHITE PERIL.

“What’s that?  No, not that schooner below there—­I mean that sort of whitish drift—­it looks like cotton—­on the horizon?”

Jess leaned forward and addressed Jimsy.

“You’ve got me guessing,” rejoined that slangy young person.

“Ask Peggy.”

“No, I don’t want to bother her now.  She’s got her hands full, I fancy.”

The Golden Butterfly was swinging steadily onward above a sparkling sea.  The slight haze perceptible from the land was not noticeable to the air voyagers.  Below them a four-masted schooner was tacking in the light wind.  Closer in shore lay several grim looking battleships and cruisers.  In their leaden colored “war paint” they looked menacing and bulldoggish.

Far off, a mere speck, could be seen a dim and indistinct object pointing upward from the cape like a finger.  They guessed it was the light for which they were aiming.  Peggy’s last glance at the compass had confirmed this guess.

Jimsy looked about him.  About a quarter of a mile off, and slightly ahead was the Cobweb.  The silvery aeroplane was rushing through the atmosphere at a great rate.  But profiting by Mortlake’s experience, Fanning was evidently not speeding the ’plane to its fullest capacity.

On the other side was a large red biplane flying steadily and keeping about level with the Golden Butterfly.  Far behind lagged a monoplane.  The other contestants had dropped out of the race.  They were so manifestly out of it that their drivers did not care to continue.