his seat. "Hang the luck! Why couldn't that wind have kept off for an hour longer!"
"You fellows keep your eyes on the road!" sang out Dick. "I've got to give all my attention to the biplane!"
"All right," was the answer of the others.
After that but little was said, for Dick had to watch every movement of the Dartaway with care, and his hands and feet were constantly on the alert, to make whatever shift seemed necessary. Sam and Tom strained their eyes to catch sight of the enclosed touring car, which, they had learned, was painted a dark blue.
The wind kept growing stronger and stronger, coming in fitful gusts that were particularly bad for such a flying machine as the boys possessed. Once came a gust that sent them spinning far out of their course.
"Phew! this is getting pretty wild!" gasped Sam. "Dick, can you manage her?"
"Not if it gets any worse," was the grim answer.
"Don't take too much of a chance," put in Tom. "We don't want to get wrecked in this wilderness."
His reference to a wilderness was not without reason, for below them stretched a series of hills
