"You will know, pretty soon, if the gas isn't let out!" retorted Tom grimly, and then Mr. Damon hastened to the generator compartment, and opened the emergency outlet.
Finally, by crowding on all the possible power, so that the propellers and deflecting rudders forced the craft down, Tom was able to get out of the grip of the hurricane, and landed just beyond the zone of it on the ground.
"Whew! That was a narrow squeak!" cried Ned, as he got out. "How'd you do it, Tom?"
"I hardly know myself. But it's evident that we're on the right spot now."
"But the wind has stopped blowing," said Mr. Damon. "It was only a gust."
"It was the worst kind of a gust I ever want to see," declared the young inventor. "My air glider ought to work to perfection in that. If you think the wind has died out, Mr. Damon, just walk in that direction," and Tom pointed off to the left.
"Bless my umbrella, I will," was the reply and the odd man started off. He had not gone far, before he was seen to put his hand to his cap. Still he kept on.
"He's getting into the blow-zone," said Tom in a low voice.
The next moment Mr. Damon was seen to stag-
