“On the contrary, it seems to be increasing,” replied Tom, with a glance at the anemometer.  “It’s nearly ninety miles an hour now.”

“Then, aided by the propellers, we must be making over a hundred miles an hour.” said the inventor.

“We are,—­a hundred and thirty,” assented Tom.

“We’ll be blown across the ocean at this rate,” exclaimed Mr. Damon.  “Bless my soul!  I didn’t count on that.”

“Perhaps we had better go down,” suggested Mr. Fenwick.  “I don’t believe we can get above the gale.”

“I’m afraid not,” came from Tom.  “It may be a bit better down below.”

Accordingly, the rudder was changed, and the whizzer pointed her nose downward.  None of the lifting gas was let out, as it was desired to save that for emergencies.

Down, down, down, went the great airship, until the adventurers within, by gazing through the plate glass window in the floor of the cabin, could see the heaving, white-capped billows, tossing and tumbling below them.

“Look out, or we’ll be into them!” shouted Mr. Damon.

“I guess we may as well go back to the level where we were,” declared Tom.  “The wind, both above and below that particular strata is stronger, and we will be safer up above.  Our only chance is to scud before it, until it has blown itself out.  And I hope it will be soon.”

“Why?” asked Mr. Damon, in a low voice.

“Because we may be blown so far that we can not get back while our power holds out, and then—­” Tom did not finish, but Mr. Damon knew what he meant—­death in the tossing ocean, far from land, when the whizzer, unable to float in the air any longer, should drop into the storm-enraged Atlantic.

They were again on a level, where the gale blew less furiously than either above or below, but this was not much relief.  It seemed as if the airship would go to pieces, so much was it swayed and tossed about.  But Mr. Fenwick, if he had done nothing else, had made a staunch craft, which stood the travelers in good stead.

All the rest of that day they swept on, at about the same speed.  There was nothing for them to do, save watch the machinery, occasionally replenishing the oil tanks, or making minor adjustments.

“Well,” finally remarked Mr. Damon, when the afternoon was waning away, “if there’s nothing else to do, suppose we eat.  Bless my appetite, but I’m hungry! and I believe you said, Mr. Fenwick, that you had plenty of food aboard.”

“So we have, but the excitement of being blown out to sea on our first real trip, made me forget all about it.  I’ll get dinner at once, if you can put up with an amateur’s cooking.”

“And I’ll help,” offered Mr. Damon.  “Tom can attend to the airship, and we’ll serve the meals.  It will take our minds off our troubles.”

There was a well equipped kitchen aboard the whizzer and soon savory odors were coming from it.  In spite of the terror of their situation, and it was not to be denied that they were in peril, they all made a good meal, though it was difficult to drink coffee and other liquids, owing to the sudden lurches which the airship gave from time to time as the gale tossed her to and fro.