Publisher's Synopsis
The Flying Machine Boys were camping under the equator. The Louise and the Bertha, the splendid aeroplanes in which the lads had visited California and Mexico, lay on a great plateau some fifteen thousand feet above the level of the Pacific ocean, and two thin tents of light oiled-silk stood not far away. Ben Whitcomb and Jimmie Stuart sat at the entrance of one of the tents shivering with cold, while Glenn Richards and Carl Nichols, in the interest of increased warmth, chased each other around a miserable little apology for a fire which alternately blazed and smoldered near the aeroplanes. "I begin to understand now how those who freeze to death must suffer!" declared Ben, his teeth chattering like the "bones" of an end-man in a minstrel show.
