Around the World in Ten Days | Page 3

conjunction with eminent aviation associations of the kind in Europe
and Asia, had planned to stimulate interest in flying by holding an
aircraft race around the world, which would start on the morning of
July 4th. All contestants must be at least twenty-one years of age, and
furnish an entrance fee of two hundred dollars. They might use any
type of aircraft they chose, and could carry as many assistants as they
wished, even utilizing trains or steamships, if not less than three-fourths
of their journey were made by air; and they must stop at least once in
each of four continents, and cross the Atlantic and Pacific oceans.
Aside from these provisions, the selection of route was left entirely to
each contestant. Then followed an imposing list of names of
well-known flyers who, it was said, had signified their intention of
competing. The article wound up with the statement that prizes
aggregating a million dollars would be offered the winners.
"One million dollars!" exclaimed Bob Giddings. "Paul, old man, you'd
better go in for this!"
Paul Ross's eyes sparkled, but the next moment he laughed and shook
his head. "I surely would like to," said he, "but there are just three little
things in the way of it."
"I suppose you need a machine for one thing?"
"Yes--and you must admit that's a good-sized item. Second, I need two
hundred dollars to enter--something I don't happen to have, and
something I know mother can't spare in such a hazard. Third, I need
three years added to my age in order to be eligible."
"It does look rather hopeless for you, that's a fact," admitted Bob. "That

second handicap might be overcome with my father's help, but the
other two are real obstacles."
"It's mighty nice of you and your father, Bob, to wish to help me out in
this fashion," said Paul; "but, as you state, the other drawbacks cannot
be swept aside so easily. Perhaps later on, another 'round the world Air
Derby will be pulled off, and I shall have a chance to enter it."
"Well, if you do, don't forget to count me in as an assistant," declared
his friend. "Nothing would please me better than to make a trip like that
with you, Paul."
"You certainly shall be welcome if the time ever comes. By the way,
Bob, John and I have designed a new type of monoplane in our spare
time, and for the past two months I have been busy making a three-foot
model of this. I hope to finish it in a day or two, and I want you to go
with me over to the old fair-grounds next Saturday afternoon and give
it a test flight, if you will."
Bob Giddings was all interest at once, and plied his friend with many
questions concerning his new model, many others of which he had in
times past helped Paul fly with the keenest delight. The truth is, Paul
Ross and his brother John, the latter a pilot in the government Air Mail
service, were known all over the State of New York as makers of the
best-flying model airplanes to be found anywhere. Ever since they were
small boys in grammar school, the brothers had been constructing
miniature monoplanes, biplanes, and seaplanes, which they had pitted
against the best product of other lads in the neighborhood and
surrounding towns, without once meeting defeat. Many of these
specimens of youthful ingenuity they still preserved, suspended in
bedroom and attic, where they were a never-ending source of interest to
visitors at the Ross homestead in the outskirts of Yonkers.
The war had called John into the aviation service of his country, but
Paul had still continued his experiments in making tiny airplanes,
getting his friend Robert Giddings, who lived in a fine house on
Shadynook Hill, to assist him in the flying. Thrown together by their
mutual love for mechanics, and being in the same classes all through

high-school, Paul and Bob had formed a strong attachment for each
other, although the latter's home was far more pretentious than the
former's, since Paul's mother was a widow in only moderately
comfortable circumstances, while Bob's father was the editor and
owner of the Daily Independent, one of the leading evening newspapers
of New York City.
When John returned from the war it was with an incurable passion for
flying, and within a few months he had re-entered the service of his
country in the peaceful but dangerous work of carrying Uncle Sam's
mails between Washington and New York in a big Martin bomber. He
found that his younger brother's love for aviation had also developed,
as well as his skill in constructing and flying model airplanes. Some of
these recent ones were so novel in design and