“Hold fast!” cried Tom suddenly.  Then with a quick shift of the rudder something happened.  It seemed as though the Mars was trying to turn over, and slide along on her side, or as if she wanted to turn about and scud before the gale, instead of facing it.  But Tom held her to the reverse course.

“Can you get her around?” cried the lieutenant above the roar of the gale.

“I—­I’m going to!” muttered Tom through his set teeth.

Inch by inch he fought the big craft through the storm.  Inch by inch the indicator showed the turning, until at last the grip of the gale was overcome.

“Now she’s headed right into it!” cried Tom in exultation.  “She’s nosing right into it!”

And the Mars was.  There was no doubt of it.  She had succeeded, under Tom’s direction, in changing squarely about, and was now going against the wind, instead of with it.

“But we can’t expect to make much speed,” Tom said, as he signaled for more power, for he had lowered it somewhat in making the turn.

But Tom himself scarcely had reckoned on the force of his craft, for as the propellers whirled more rapidly the aerial warship did begin to make headway, and that in the teeth of a terrific wind.

“She’s doing it, Tom!  She’s doing it!” cried Ned exultingly.

“I believe she is,” agreed the lieutenant.

“Well, so much the better,” Tom said, trying to be calm.  “If she can keep this up a little while I’ll give her a rest and we’ll go up above the storm area, and beat back home.”

The Mars, so far, had met every test.  Tom had decided on ten minutes more of gale-fighting, when from the tube that communicated with the engine-room came a shrill whistle.

“See what that is, Ned,” Tom directed.

“Yes,” called Ned into the mouthpiece.  “What’s the matter?”

“Short circuit in the big motor,” was the reply.  “We’ve got to run on storage battery.  Send Tom back here!  Something queer has happened!”

CHAPTER XX THE STOWAWAYS

Ned repeated the message breathlessly.

“Short circuit!” gasped Tom.  “Run on storage battery!  I’ll have to see to that.  Take the wheel somebody!”

“Wouldn’t it be better to turn about, and run before the wind, so as not to put too great a strain on the machinery?” asked Lieutenant Marbury.

“Perhaps,” agreed Tom.  “Hold her this way, though, until I see what’s wrong!”

Ned and the government man took the wheel, while Tom hurried along the runway leading from the pilot-house to the machinery cabin.  The gale was still blowing fiercely.

The young inventor cast a hasty look about the interior of the place as he entered.  He sniffed the air suspiciously, and was aware of the odor of burning insulation.

“What happened?” he asked, noting that already the principal motive power was coming from the big storage battery.  The shift had been made automatically, when the main motor gave out.