But after all, Jack’s device had never been tested.  It looked as if it was due to be.  The wind came in sharp puffs, now hot and now cold.

Ragged, white clouds, like wind-driven fragments of filmy lace, began to whip across the dark heavens.  The sea turned a peculiar light green and was flecked with whitecaps.

“We’re in for it,” said Jack.  “Better get up the storm curtains, Tom.”

While Jack steered, Tom drew up the waterproof curtains and top which, in rainy weather, made the Wondership quite dry and weather-tight.  Mica portholes gave light inside this extemporized cabin, and enabled the steersman to see.

This had hardly been done when a wild gust of wind struck the Wondership and sent it staggering off its course.  But in a jiffy Jack regained control of the craft and headed her straight for the white house occupied by Dr. Mays, which could now be seen, its lofty cupola poking up above the trees surrounding it.

“Glad we’re nearly there,” said Tom.  “I don’t much like this.”

“We’re O.K.,” Jack assured him.  “We went through a lot worse than this in that circular storm in Yucatan.”

“Can’t we drop and run along the road?”

“It’s much longer by the road than by the air line, and remember we are in a big hurry.”

“That’s so.  But we’ve got the return trip ahead of us.”

“Well, if it gets too bad, we’ll have to come back by road,” said Jack, “but I haven’t got a doubt that she’ll stand anything that will come out of this storm.”

Crash!

The sky was rent from end to end by jagged lightning.  With a deafening roar the thunder broke, rumbling and crashing in the sultry air.

S-w-i-s-h!

The rain came in torrents, tearing at the storm curtains.  It beat frantically at them with a noise like that of surf on a beach.  But inside the boys were snug and dry, and the Wondership forged steadily forward.  It was a weird experience for the boys.  About them the artillery of heaven thundered and flashed.  They could see each other’s faces and the black outlines of their craft in the livid flare of flash after flash of lightning.

Jack, with his hands firmly gripping the steering wheel, anticipating every move of the storm-tossed Wondership like a skillful pilot, felt his pulses throb.  There was something fine in battling with the elements like this in a stanch craft they had perfected.  He felt that no other airship then in existence would have been able to keep up the fight.

All at once there came a crash that drove his eardrums in.  The Wondership staggered and then seemed to leap into lambent flame.  Blinded, Jack threw his hands before his eyes, utterly forgetting for the minute the steering wheel.

Tom gave a shout of alarm, as he felt the craft stagger as if dealt a mortal blow, and then begin to drop earthward.

“We’ve been struck!” he yelled in panic.