However, Tom did not want to take too many chances. He felt that his craft was doing quite well as it was, forging ahead, though at some loss of speed, and if he could keep her there he would make the journey safely, though he began to figure now on losing an hour or two from his schedule of sixteen. For a time the storm seemed to abate a little, and they were congratulating themselves that they had ridden through it, when, all at once, it burst over them with redoubled fury. So powerful was the wind that once or twice the _Osprey_ seemed actually to stand still. Of course that might not really have been the case. Wind seldom obtains a velocity of more than a hundred miles an hour, even in the worst storms, and Tom’s craft was keyed up now to do at least two hundred miles, which was double that of the wind. But it may well have been that her speed was cut down by half, and from what developed afterward Tom was inclined to think this was the case. But with a fierceness of spirit that equaled the fierceness of the storm, Tom drove his machine on. He was determined to finish this first trip at least pretty nearly on schedule. It would mean a wonderful amount of prestige for him if he could, and almost insure the success of the undertaking. Though at one time, during a terrific outburst of wind, lightning, and rain, it seemed as if they would be utterly overwhelmed, Tom was skillful, and brought the _Osprey_ around and straightened her out of a dangerous side slip. Then, almost as suddenly as the storm had begun, it stopped. The machine slid out of the region of wild disturbance into daylight. Ned, peering past Tom, looked ahead. He saw something that caused him to cry: “The Golden Gate!” “Yes,” shouted back Tom, “that’s San Francisco just ahead of us. But we’ve lost about two hours!” CHAPTER XXII KENNY BREAKS DOWN The quiet following the storm came as a great relief to Tom and Ned, alone up there in the cockpit of the plane. Though their friends were within a few feet of them, they really seemed quite isolated, for they could neither see nor hear the others in the car below them. “Well, I’m glad we’re out of that,” remarked Tom, with a long breath—the first, seemingly, that he had taken in some time. “Same here!” commented Ned. They were able to converse now by means of the speaking tube which connected the forward and aft cockpits, having only to overcome the roar of the motors and not the fierce rattle of the storm. “And I guess if we do it inside of nineteen hours we’ve accomplished a lot,” went on Tom. “The Broadway Limited thinks it’s doing wonders if it goes from New York to Chicago in eighteen, but we have them skinned by several miles.” “You said it!” cried Ned, with justified enthusiasm. “But do you think you’ll lose all of two hours, Tom?”