Suddenly, to Ned's huge joy, the engine showed signs of slackening speed. He gently manipulated a lever, and found that he had partial control of the machine now. This being so, he decided to land as soon as practicable. From a clump of trees some distance ahead, the white spire of a church told him of a village. To his left hand lay the sea. Ned gazed at it longingly, as he dropped nearer and nearer to the ground.
He landed at the edge of a meadow adjoining a building which was occupied by the village post-office and telegraph office. A sign on a house across the way made his heart leap:
Chance had actually brought him within close range of the fleet. It seemed too good to be true. But a crowd of villagers, who came rushing to inspect the visitor from cloudland, soon put all other thoughts but the safety of his machine out of his mind. If he had not watched it carefully, there seemed to be danger of its being ripped to bits by souvenir hunters.
A brief inspection showed Ned that a broken tension-spring had caused the runaway. It was soon adjusted. Then he peeped into the gasolene tank. It was almost empty.
"They sell gasolene in ther store there, mister," said a bright lad. "Gasolene gigs come through here onct in a while."
"When they's lost," struck in another lad.
This was good news to Ned. Leaving the lads to guard the machine, he entered the post-office. The postmaster imperturbably sold him five gallons of gasolene. Ned recollected that he couldn't pay for it. But, unfortunately, this did not occur to him till he had emptied it into the tank.
Hardly had he done so, and was starting back to the store with explanations, when the postmaster, who was also telegraph operator, appeared in the doorway of his emporium. He was waving a yellow telegram.
"Hold that feller, one of yer!" he shouted. "That thar's a stolen sky-buggy, and he's no better than a thief!"
A dozen men started forward to lay hands on Ned.
But a sudden determination had come to the lad. He was within striking distance of the fleet. It was his duty to warn the officers of the peril that menaced their vessels.
A rough hand seized his arm. Ned flung it off. At the same instant his fists drove full at a big fellow--the village blacksmith--who tried to bar his path, swinging a heavy hammer.