But, above all, the early light of the coming day was to reveal to
him a sight of the land of his hopes. There, before him, were the
Tunit Chas; peaks and chasms of unsolved mystery wherein the
centuries had held close their secret. Many trials had blocked his
way. Was he now about to reap the reward of his labors? Did the
hidden city of Cibola lie somewhere below him? Or were the Palace
of the Pueblos and the Turquoise Temple but empty myths?
The young aeronaut's present plans were simple enough. The Cibola
had now been afloat twelve hours and nearly half her gasoline was
exhausted. More than once in the night Ned had noticed that the
balloon was settling lower and he had been forced to maintain his
level by casting over ballast. It was apparent that they were
already losing gas.
In boyish impulse and sympathy they had made Bob Russell, the young
reporter, a third and unexpected passenger, and accident had forced
them to add Elmer Grissom, their colored friend and servant. And
these extra occupants of the car must be landed at the earliest
opportunity.
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