"Now I guess we're all right," said Mr. Vardon, when no more fire could be seen. "And the marvel of it is that our motor never stopped!" "That's the one thing that saved us from making another descent--our last," murmured Dick. "That's sure some motor, all right." But they were congratulating themselves too soon, it seemed. For, hardly had Dick spoken than the monotonous whine of the powerful machine seemed to weaken in tone. It died out--the high note sunk to a low one, and gradually went out. "What's up now?" asked Paul, peering over Dick's shoulder. The motor compartment was still too hot to enter with safety, and it was also filled with acrid vapor, from the extinguishers. "I--I'm afraid it's going to stop," gasped Dick, for he was out of breath from his exertions, and from the excitement of the occasion. "Stop!" cried Paul. "If she does we'll have to go down!" And stop the motor did. There was a sort of final groan or gasp, as if of apology, and then the wheels stopped revolving and the big propellers outside the cabin, which had been forcing the craft onward, gradually ceased their motion. "Quick?" shouted Mr. Vardon. "Throw on the self-starter, Dick! We may catch her before she loses all her momentum!" "All right!" answered Dick. He made one jump to the switch that put into commission the electrical starter. But he was too late to "catch" the motor. It had died down, and, though the young millionaire made contact after contact with the copper knife-switch, there was no response. "We're falling!" cried Innis, from the pilot-house, as he noted the height gage, and saw that the hand was constantly receding. "We're falling, Dick!" "I know it--no help for it," answered our hero, hopelessly. The Abaris was certainly going down. When the propellers had ceased to urge her forward she began to dip toward the earth, even as a stone falls when the initial impulse from the sling, or the hand of the thrower, is lost. Foot by foot she dropped, and those aboard her looked helplessly at one another. They had made a brave fight against the fire, but it seemed to have gone for naught. They could not keep up with the motor stalled as it was. "I guess we'll have to make another landing," said Innis, as he remained at the wheel. Of course they were entitled to one more, but it would be the last, and a long and hard part of their trans-continental flight was still ahead of them. If they went down this time, and, after making repairs, came up into the air once more, they would not, under the rules, be allowed to land again before reaching San Francisco. "It's tough luck, but I guess we'll have to do it," said Larry Dexter. "Maybe not!" Dick cried. "I have an idea." "What is it? Tell us quick!" begged Innis, for he, as well as all of Dick's friends, wanted to see him win the prize.