"How about giving me my first flying lesson now?" Dorothy suggested as
Bill hauled in their anchor.
"You really want to learn?"
"Of course I do--I'm crazy about it!"
Bill coiled the mooring line, looping it with practiced skill. "And I'd
be glad to give you instruction. But you're a minor--before we can start
anything like that we must get your Dad's permission."
"Oh, that'll be all right, Bill," was the young lady's cool assurance.
"But how about right now--"
"Every student aviator is a watchful waiter the first time up. You stand
behind me this trip and I'll explain what I'm doing as we go along."
"That'll be great! I'm just wild to fly this plane!"
Bill smiled. "But you won't get your flight instruction in this plane,
Dorothy."
"Why not?"
"This amphibian is too big and heavy, for one thing; for another, she
isn't equipped with dual controls."
"But what does that mean?"
"I see we'll have to start your training right now, Miss Student
Pilot--Controls is a general term applied to the means proved to enable
the pilot to control the speed, direction of flight, altitude and power
of an aircraft.--Savez?"
"You sound like a text book--but I get you."
"All right. Now, unless we want the bus washed up on the beach, we'd
better shove off."
Fastening the door to the deck after them, they passed through the cabin
and into the pilot's cockpit where head-phone sets were at once
adjusted. The amphibian bobbed and swayed at the push of little waves.
The sun's face, scrubbed clean and bright by wind and rain was reflected
in the rippling water; whilst wet surfaces of leaves, lawns, tree trunks
and housetops bordering the inlet gleamed in a wash of gold.
Little gusts of fresh air blew in through the open windows filling the
cockpit with a keen sweet odor of wet earth.