Jimsy looked about him. About a quarter of a mile off, and slightly ahead
was the _Cobweb_. The silvery aeroplane was rushing through the atmosphere
at a great rate. But profiting by Mortlake's experience, Fanning was
evidently not speeding the 'plane to its fullest capacity.
On the other side was a large red biplane flying steadily and keeping
about level with the _Golden Butterfly_. Far behind lagged a monoplane.
The other contestants had dropped out of the race. They were so manifestly
out of it that their drivers did not care to continue.
A glance at the speedometer showed Peggy's two passengers that they were
reeling off fifty-five miles an hour. The _Cobweb_ was doing slightly
better.
"We should round the light in a few minutes now," said Jimsy scrutinizing
his watch anxiously.
"Will they report us?" asked Jess.
"Yes. There is a wireless rigged up there. The minute we round it on our
return trip word will be flashed back to the starting point."
Silently they sat counting the minutes roll by. All at once Jimsy noticed
that the air had become strangely damp and moist. He looked up. He could
not refrain a cry of astonishment as he did so. The _Golden Butterfly_ was
enveloped in a damp, steamy sort of smother. The _Cobweb_ had been blotted
out and so had the other aeroplanes.
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