“But we may pull out of it yet!” cried Tom to his friends, as he saw to it that all the openings of the traveling car were tightly closed. For once the air, under high pressure because of the velocity of the wind, gained an entrance, it might do serious damage. But Tom had foreseen that they might run into storms, and had so built his car that a few pulls on certain levers would close everything save the protected ventilators. Through these fresh air came in and the foul air was expelled, but rain could not enter. It was different in the aeroplane above the car, however. There the mechanician and his assistant were pretty much in the open, though there was a cowl of heavy celluloid to protect their faces and Tom had rigged up an extra hood to keep off some of the rain and snow that might be encountered on the trip. But from the very nature of their calling, aeroplane pilots must fly with much of their bodies exposed to the elements. When they expect to go to great heights and encounter cold of such intensity that it is hard to conceive of it, they wear suits in which are woven wires of high resistance. A low voltage electric current, passing through these wires, warms them, just as is done in some of the warming pads used in bed by invalids. In this way the blood of the daring aviators is kept circulating. But as Tom did not expect to go very high on his airline express trips, there was no need of these electrically heated suits, and none had been taken along. However, he had taken into consideration that they might run into rain, and rubber coats had been provided. “I’ll go up and relieve Ted Dolan,” remarked Tom to Ned, for the third crew of pilots had been taken on at Denver to make the final hop to the Pacific coast. Dolan was an experienced airman and had for his helper Art Wright. But they had not taken their rubber coats up in the cockpit with them, for when they left Denver the weather was all that could be desired. “I’ll go with you,” offered Ned. “I’d like to see just how bad this storm is.” “It’s a humdinger all right,” declared Tom, as he glanced out of an observation window while waiting for Eradicate to bring the storm garments from a locker. “Bless my nose-guard, I’ll say it is!” chimed in Mr. Damon. “I never saw a worse one.” “Oh, we’ve been in just as severe ones before,” observed Tom, in what seemed a cool voice. “When we were trying out the flying boat I remember a storm when I thought we never would get through it. This is bad enough, but the _Osprey_ can buck it I think.” “Ah knows Massa Tom gwine to pull us through all right,” said Eradicate, with a glance at Koku. “Ah isn’t scairt, no how!” “Huh! Black man talk big—but him knees shake all same,” sneered the giant. “Whose knees am shakin’, big man? Whose knees am shakin’?” demanded the colored servant, as he strode toward the big fellow. It seemed as if he might try to punch Koku.