tom swift for a moment was torn between duty and ambition.

his machine was winging along at wonderful speed and he was beginning to make up for much time lost. to slow up, descend and rescue these two on the raft meant more delay—a delay that would be dangerous to his chances of winning the prize. he did not know how many or what other ships, whether of the air or the sea, containing his rivals, might be ahead of him or close behind.

but it was for only a moment that tom hesitated. he gave one look down at the despairing, helpless men on the raft and cried to ned:

“we’ll go down!”

ned knew, as well as tom, what this might mean.

as the young inventor sprang into the motor room to give the order to hartman, who was on duty, he practically gave up all hope of winning the race. yet he had no regrets.

there was another thought that came to tom as he told the surprised hartman what was about to be done and mentioned the raft with the shipwrecked ones on it. this was the problem of caring for the two castaways when they were taken aboard the air monarch.

“there’s hardly room for them,” reasoned tom. “their added weight will hold me back, even if i’m able to make up any of this lost time. and we haven’t any too much food. didn’t have a chance to lay in any at the camps of the pirates and head-hunters,” he grimly reflected.

but he did not hesitate, and a little later two very thankful, but much wondering, men were being taken aboard the airship. they were thankful for their rescue but surprised at the manner of it.

“we thought some steamer might pick us up,” said one, “but we never counted on something coming out of the sky to do it.”

“sam thought i was out of my head when i told him an airship was coming,” remarked the other.

tom had sent his craft slowly over the water on her pontoons as close as he dared to go to the raft, and the men had leaped into the sea, swimming the intervening distance, since it would take but a slight bump from the jagged edges of the raft to puncture the frail body of the air monarch.

once on board, and again riding through the air, tom listened to the stories of the castaways. they were part of the crew of a small lumber schooner that had broken up in a terrible storm. for more than a week the men had been drifting about on the raft which had been made from some of the deck load of lumber. five of their companions had been washed off, and one, in delirium, had leaped into the sea and was eaten by sharks. the two who were left had only a little food and water remaining when they were saved.

“i’m sorry that i can’t take you men all the way back to san francisco with me,” tom said, when the two had been made comfortable in temporary bunks and given some extra garments in place of their wet and storm-torn ones. “but i’m trying to win a race. how would it do if i landed you on one of the hawaiian islands? i’ve got to stop there for oil and gas.”

“that would suit us fine, captain,” said sam stout, while his companion, frank madler, said:

“we can easily get another ship there.”

so it was arranged, and tom, still with a faint hope in his heart that he might at least come in a good second if not the winner of the world race, turned on a little more power and headed for the east. there lay the united states, and once over that territory there remained only the last part of the flight—across the continent.

the motors of the air monarch were not behaving as well as tom liked, and he had an idea it was due to the poor quality of the last gasoline he had put into his tanks. he dared not use the last of his super-fuel, but he hoped in hawaii to get some better than the last.

if worse came to worst, he thought he could finish the race in his airline express craft, but he wanted to do it in the air monarch. it would be much more satisfactory, he told ned, who agreed with him.

it was only half a day’s travel from where the shipwrecked ones had been picked up to the harbor of honolulu, and it was about mid afternoon when ned, who was on watch, gave the cry:

“land ho! all out for hawaii!”

the beautiful islands were looming ahead of them through the mist. quarter of an hour later they made out diamond head and knew they were close to honolulu, the chief city of the territory.

tom was in the pilot house, prepared to make a landing, if such a term is permissible when one means to drop into the water. he had headed the craft for a spot somewhat outside a harbor, intending to taxi up into it to avoid the shipping when, suddenly, sam, one of the shipwrecked sailors, who was looking from the pilot house window, pointed to a spot directly in front of them and cried:

“there she blows!”

“what?” asked tom, though a second later he realized what was meant.

“a whale!” cried the sailor. “there she blows, and you’re going to bump right into her!”

tom tried desperately to shift the wheel and, at the same time to elevate the airship to pass over the monster of the deep. but they were now so close that it seemed impossible. with the motors shut off the sound of the whale’s blowing could be heard and each moment the vast bulk became plainer. if the airship hit that mountain of flesh she would be instantly wrecked!