Publisher's Synopsis
The night is wearing on, and as the first pale streaks of dawn show through the celluloid windows of the cabin, the wind gage shows that the force of the gale is slacking.
"We've ridden it out!" exults Dick. "She's a good old airship after all! Now we can get back on our course. We ought to be crossing the Rockies soon, and then on to San Francisco!"
Suddenly Grit, standing near the compartment of the main motor, lets out a howl.
"What's the matter with that dog?" asks Dick. Grit's howl changes to a bark, and at the same moment, Larry Dexter, who is passing by, cries out -- "Fire! There's a fire in the motor-room!" -- as a black cloud of smoke rushes out, enveloping the dismally howling dog.
