his engine was going perfectly, so he was not required to
attempt a difficult volplane with a dead engine. It was something to be
spared that. Bill picked the likeliest spot in the distant landscape,
all immense field with only a few groups of black dots to break its late
fall greenness. Bill could not tell the nature of the dots at the
height he was flying. They might be bushes or cows. Bill hoped for the
latter, and as he came down he saw that he was right. Cows would be
likely to scatter, thought Bill, but bushes would be difficult to steer
around.

About a hundred feet from the ground he tilted his elevating plane, and
the machine, nosing up, glided off at a tangent. Once more making a
turn, he came down to the ground, striking it gently, and bobbing along
the grassy surface of the field.

The cows scattered all right. When the machine came to a standstill,
swaying back and forth like a giant dragonfly, all that remained of the
herd was a glimpse of agitated and wildly waving tails galloping off
into the second growth which rimmed the pasture.

Ernest, who had taken many long flights, removed his goggles and smiled
at the young pilot as he climbed awkwardly over the side and dropped to
the ground. His head whirled, and his eyes felt strained out of his
head. With fingers that trembled he undid his helmet and pushed off his
goggles.

"Well, boy, I may say that I was never so proud of a friend in my life!
You have done nobly!"

"What did we land for?" asked Bill. "I don't see as we can afford the
time."

"We must take time to get some gas and rest you up a little. Don't you
worry, son! You are going to drive all night to-night unless--well, why
didn't I think of this before? We are 'way past the path of the storm
last night, and--"

"Last night!" interrupted Bill. "Was it only last night? I feel as
though it was a week ago."

"I was going to say," resumed Ernest, "that we can send a telegram from
somewhere around here, and then we can spend the night at a farmhouse,
and go on to-morrow. We can reach there to-morrow night, perhaps
earlier."

"I don't approve of that," said Bill. "If my mother thought I was 'up in
a balloon, boys,' she would about die of fright."

"She gave you permission," reminded Ernest.

"Yes, but of course she never thought anything like this would happen
and honestly I wish you wouldn't! I can drive all night all right. That
is, if I can get a little rest," he added, as he sensed h