"Nor I," exclaimed Roy, his dislike of Fan Harding giving place to admiration--genuine admiration--of the other's ingenuity.
"Well, he's beaten me out at my own particular specialty," he exclaimed presently, after an interval in which the lights had climbed far above the Golden Butterfly. "That's a better machine than ours, Peg."
"I guess we'll have to admit that," rejoined the girl, with a sigh. "I wonder if he'll enter for the prize?"
"Of course. With a craft like that he'd be foolish if he didn't. Odd that he's trying it out at night, though."
"I suppose he wants to keep secret what it can do and then spring it on an astonished world," rejoined Peggy. "Good gracious!" she broke off hurriedly.
The aeroplane had given a sudden lurch, and at the same instant a sharp puff of wind struck them both in the face. Peggy's hands fairly flashed among her levers, and she averted what might have been a bad predicament.
Involuntarily, at the same instant, Roy had glanced up at the other aeroplane to see how it was faring. To his astonishment the lights did not seem to waver.
"Wow, Peg!" he cried, "that puff didn't even bother Fan Harding's craft. It was uncanny to see her weather it."
"There's something uncanny about it altogether," sniffed Peggy; "it's a regular phantom airship."
"That's just what it is," agreed Roy, "but I'm afraid it is a substantial enough phantom to carry off that $5,000 prize."
Another puff prevented Peggy from replying just then. Once more the Golden Butterfly careened violently, and then, under Peggy's skillful handling, righted herself. But this time the puff was followed by a steady rush of wind.
"Better turn, Peg, before it gets any worse," advised Roy; "we're off our course now."
"I--I tried to," exclaimed Peggy, desperately, "but the wind won't let me. I don't dare to."
"We must," exclaimed Roy, with a serious note in his voice; "if this wind freshens much more we won't be able to turn at all."
He leaned forward and took the wheel from his sister. But the instant he tried to steer the aeroplane round, the wind, rising under one wing tip, careened her to a perilous angle.
"No go," he said; "we've got to keep on going."
"But where can we land?" asked Peggy, a little catch in her voice.