and the
lieutenant. The latter wanted to take official note of what happened.
Tom relieved the man at the wheel, and gradually began to alter the
direction of the craft.

At first no change was noticeable. So strong was the force of the wind
that it seemed as though the Mars was going in the same direction. But
Ned, noticing a direction compass on the wall, saw that the needle was
gradually shifting.

"Hold fast!" cried Tom suddenly. Then with a quick shift of the rudder
something happened. It seemed as though the Mars was trying to turn
over, and slide along on her side, or as if she wanted to turn about
and scud before the gale, instead of facing it. But Tom held her to the
reverse course.

"Can you get her around?" cried the lieutenant above the roar of the
gale.

"I--I'm going to!" muttered Tom through his set teeth.

Inch by inch he fought the big craft through the storm. Inch by inch
the indicator showed the turning, until at last the grip of the gale
was overcome.

"Now she's headed right into it!" cried Tom in exultation. "She's
nosing right into it!"

And the Mars was. There was no doubt of it. She had succeeded, under
Tom's direction, in changing squarely about, and was now going against
the wind, instead of with it.

"But we can't expect to make much speed," Tom said, as he signaled for
more power, for he had lowered it somewhat in making the turn.

But Tom himself scarcely had reckoned on the force of his craft, for as
the propellers whirled more rapidly the aerial warship did begin to
make headway, and that in the teeth of a terrific wind.

"She's doing it, Tom! She's doing it!" cried Ned exultingly.

"I believe she is," agreed the lieutenant.

"Well, so much the better," Tom said, trying to be calm. "If she can
keep this up a little while I'll give her a rest and we'll go up above
the storm area, and beat back home."

The Mars, so far, had met every test. Tom had decided on ten minutes
more of gale-fighting, when from the tube that communicated with the
engine-room came a shrill whistle.

"See what that is, Ned," Tom directed.

"Yes," called Ned into the mouthpiece. "What's the matter?"

"Short circuit in the big motor," was the reply. "We've got to run on
storage battery. Send Tom back here! Something queer has happened!"

CHAPTER XX

THE STOWAWAYS

Ned repeated the message breathlessly.

"Short circuit!" gasped Tom. "Run on storage battery! I'll have to see
to tha