WHEN THE MONOPLANE FELL.
“Oh!”
Of course it was Andy who gave utterance to this startled exclamation.
He had noticed the abrupt stoppage of the engine and realized what that
must mean.
Frank never lost his head in this emergency. He had a faculty for
thinking out all these sort of things and planning his move in case
he ever found himself up against such a crisis. It is one thing to
deliberately stop the motive power of an aeroplane and quite another to
have it suddenly cease working.
The monoplane continued to move forward, under the impetus that had
been given while the propeller still swirled around. But they were also
descending and in a few seconds they would be apt to drop faster than
ever, unless something were done to relieve the situation.
The planes were holding firmly and their expanse would serve to keep
the little aircraft from going down like a plummet. But Frank knew
there was a means for quickly altering the position of his deflecting
rudder, so that the monoplane would glide gently toward the earth in
what from a higher altitude would be called volplaning.
He had seen experienced aviators do the stunt again and again, and
sometimes under circumstances that called for considerable nerve. So
like a flash he made the move and the little craft seemed to feel the
effect at once, floating softly down until presently the rubbered tires
of the two fore wheels came in contact with the ground, along which
they trundled for perhaps fifty feet.
Then the monoplane came to a full stop.
Andy broke loose with an ear splitting yell that was taken up by the
others nearby, who believed that this must all have been intentional on
the part of the novice air pilot.
Frank himself was satisfied and even pleased. He realized how easily
one could hold the reins with such a novel craft, if he only did not
lose his head in an emergency. There were ways to meet each sudden
difficulty, it seemed.
“That was a mighty fine idea of yours, Frank; but it needed a lot
of nerve to attempt it,” said Andy, as he climbed out and stretched
himself.
“Did, eh?” smiled Frank. “What would you think if I told you that I
never had any idea of coming down that way, just then, at any rate?”
The other stared.
“Say, you don’t mean to tell me that it was all an accident?” Andy
asked, his face growing grave again.
“It certainly was, so far as I know. I never intended to cut off the
power. The engine simply stopped dead. And I knew that we would come
down with a bump unless I did something that I’ve seen aviators do many
the time. In a little way that was what they call volplaning, Andy.”
“Gee! I bet those two guys stared like their eyes would jump out.
That’s something they haven’t dared try yet, bold as they are,”
observed the other, looking up toward the biplane, which had wheeled
and was coming back.
“And I wouldn’t have dared either,” laughed Frank; “only it was a case
of have to with me. But now that it’s over I’m glad it happened, for
I’ve learned something that’s going to be pretty valuable to us from
now on. We can always alight that way. But I’ll be sorry if our dandy
little engine has gone back on us.”
He bent over to examine and immediately uttered a snort.
“Found something?” asked Andy, while the other two boys drew alongside
and the limping colonel drew rapidly near.
“A fool play on my part, after all. The power is shut off! I must have
done it accidentally when I turned a trifle to watch the biplane.”
Andy threw the propeller gears into neutral and then started the
engine. It began working with an earnestness that was charming.
“That’s one on me,” said Frank. “And I give you my word I’ll fix it so
that it can never happen again.”
“There comes the biplane bothering around,” said Andy, who seemed to
have conceived a sudden violent dislike for the other aeroplane.
The machine piloted by Puss was indeed circling and dropping to a lower
strata, so that presently the voice of Sandy Hollingshead could be
heard calling.
“Bet you couldn’t do that again in a thousand years, Frank!” he said,
as though he had just received an unpleasant shock after witnessing the
feat of bringing the monoplane successfully to earth after the engine
had stopped short.
After a while he would realize that it was only a common way of
alighting. Puss had managed thus far in a clumsy fashion, avoiding
accidents more through good luck than management. For no aeroplane ever
could make a landing with the engine running full.
“Thought you were in for a smash!” Puss admitted.
“Oh, well, you see I didn’t intend to shut off power so suddenly. My
sleeve caught in the lever and I thought something had broken. But it
was easy after all,” Frank sang out, not wishing to accept laurels he
had not earned.
“Huh! thought it was an accident. You fellows will trust to luck once
too often, mark my words!” Sandy called back as the biplane sailed away.
Andy would have willingly gone up again, but his more prudent chum
advised that they let well enough alone.
“I want to do some little fixing to the engine,” he said, “and I reckon
you can think up a few more places to hunt for your pet tool.”
And secretly Andy had something to ponder over. He realized more than
ever that he would never be fitted to follow in the footsteps of his
father, insofar as this matter of aerial navigation went, unless he
put a sharp curb on his impatience.
Frank was the right kind of fellow to attempt these things. He had a
remedy for any trouble, and on the instant. The more Andy thought of
that incident and the clever way in which his chum had grappled with
the threatened disaster the greater his admiration for Frank grew.
Elephant, Larry and the old man were watching Frank tinker with the
little engine out there on the field just where they had alighted. Of
course, they talked the while, for boys can never keep silent any more
than girls.
“I saw you swing to the left as you came down, Frank; why did you do
that?” asked Larry, who had keen eyes that few things escaped.
“I did it because I knew we needed plenty of room ahead after we
landed, so the machine could run along the ground a bit, for I haven’t
yet quite got the hang of the brake,” replied the pilot, modestly.
“But how could you think of all that in a second and figure it out just
how you wanted to land?” persisted the other.
“I didn’t,” Frank answered, promptly, after his usual candid fashion.
“It must have been what you’d call instinct that made me swerve. I
realized it all just like you get an inspiration, in a tenth of a
second, they say. And my brain must have wigwagged it down to my hand,
for the thing was done in a flash.”
“Gee! that’s what an airship pilot has to do, does he?” observed
Elephant, shaking his head sadly. “Then I guess I’m not in the running.
Somehow the telegraph line between my brain and my fingers gets out of
working order right along. Then the news has to be relayed, sometimes
by way of another fellow. This here bully old earth is going to be good
enough for a fellow of my size for some time yet.”
“Yes, Elephant,” said Larry, “if he makes a little blunder here he
doesn’t drop a few thousand feet, turning over and over, and landing
with a sickening thud, as they say in the newspaper accounts.”
“Ah! let up on that, won’t you?” cried Andy. “You can’t scare us and
there’s no use trying. My father took the chances before me and it’s
sure in the blood. No matter what you say about risks, I’ve just got to
be an aviator. And I’ve laid out a trip that some day I hope to take.”
Frank could give a guess as to what he meant when he said this, for
that yearning look came upon Andy’s face, just as it always did every
time he was thinking about the father who had so mysteriously vanished
from the eyes of the known world so many months ago, when with his
balloon he started to cross the isthmus of Panama and was seen no more.
“Anyway,” asserted Larry, with an expression of genuine pleasure; “I’m
satisfied now that you fellows mean to have a look-in when that silver
cup is raced for. I had my doubts before, but after seeing the clever
stunt Frank just pulled off I’m not worrying any more.”
“Thank you, Larry,” said Frank; “it makes a fellow feel good to have
his friends express confidence in him. We mean to practice hard and
learn all the ropes we can. Then, if our fine little engine can develop
the speed I think she will, we’ll show a clean pair of heels to our
rivals on that big day of the race.”
“Oh, I forgot something!” exclaimed Elephant just then, and he
straightway began fumbling at his pocket as though trying to get a grip
on an object concealed there. “I found some property belonging to you,
Andy, and in the funniest place you ever heard of. Perhaps you remember
losing it?”
Andy turned pale, then rosy red and expectant.
“My little aluminum monkey wrench?” he exclaimed, eagerly.
Even Frank looked up, waiting to see what happened. But Elephant shook
his head in a disappointing fashion.
“Shucks, no!” he said; “but that tennis ball you lost last year, you
know, over in the lot back of our court. We hunted high and low for it
and gave the thing up. Well, would you believe it, if I didn’t come
on the ball stuck tight in a crotch of a tree, and here it is, hardly
worth anything, but I thought you’d like to see it again.”
But Andy groaned and waved him away.