The airship fairly stood on end, and
then, turning completely about, was rapidly driven in the opposite
direction, though her propellers were working rapidly.
"What's up?" yelled Ned.
"We are capsizing!" shouted Ivan Petrofsky, and indeed it seemed so, for
the airship was being forced over.
"I guess we've struck what we want!" cried Tom. "We're in a hurricane
all right! This is the place of the big wind! Now for my air glider, if
I can get the airship to earth without being wrecked! Ned, lend a hand!
We've got our work cut out for us now!"
CHAPTER XXIII
THE LOST MINE
For several moments it seemed as if disaster would overtake the little
band of platinum-hunters. In spite of all that Tom and Ned could do, the
Falcon was whipped about like a feather in the wind. Sometimes she was
pointing her nose to the clouds, and again earthward. Again she would be
whirling about in the grip of the hurricane, like some fantastic dancer,
and again she would roll dangerously. Had she turned turtle it probably
would have been the last of her and of all on board.
"Yank that deflecting lever as far down as it will go!" yelled Tom to
his chum.
"I am. She won't go any farther."
"All right, hold her so. Mr. Damon, let all the gas out of the bag. I
want to be as heavy as possible, and get to earth as soon as we can.
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