Tropic Storm
High above the sapphire mirror of the Caribbean, Terry kept her plane in
a southwesterly course. The sun was a pitiless ball of flame that sent
out long fingers of fire. It was tropic weather.
Above them Allan's plane was soaring ahead now. The sight of Joe Arnold
at Havana had made them fear an attack, and the four flyers were
watching to see whether a third plane was following them.
Leaving the islands behind they flew out over the sea, a great expanse
of deep blue and purple water.
Suddenly Prim called to her sister. "Look Terry, there's land over
there, away to the left."
"Yes, I see," answered Terry. But she was watching the horizon with
anxious eyes. That dark purplish mass looked to her like a low-lying
cloud. There was something unnatural about it. Its color was changing
rapidly to a reddish hue.
"I don't like the looks of it, Prim," called Terry. "See how the light
is changing."
A reddish haze had spread over the whole sky, the sun appeared like a
great disc of hot metal. The sight was weird and menacing.
"What's the matter, Terry? Is it a storm?" Prim asked.
"Yes, a tropic storm. We've got to race it. Where are the boys?" Prim
leaned over the cowling and strained her eyes to the sky, but that
strange and terrifying haze had blotted out the other plane. Terry
circled and banked in an effort to find their friends. Then, opening the
throttle wide, the girl sent her plane straight before the storm. It was
her only chance. If she could out-race that storm, she would be saved.
Sending her plane ahead and in a gradual rise, the girl tried to get
above the haze. These tropical storms often covered only a small area,
but very soon she realized that the cloud was coming on and rising
faster than her plane.
Below them the sea was still visible, a dull lead color now with
greenish tipped white-caps. The wind had not reached the plane yet and
the girls hoped that they might be able to keep ahead of the tempest.
Then it came, first with a gust that made the little ship bob and dance
about. Terry knew this was only the beginning. The storm was upon them!
The next deep breath of the hurricane would threaten their lives with
its fury. Terry held her plane to the only course she dared to take. She
was racing for dear life!
The throb of the motor told that the engine was being strained to the
limit of its power. There was no time to lose. If the girls were to
escape destruction, they must take that chance.
When the full force of the tempest struck the plane, it was tossed about
like a straw in the wind. Under less experienced hands than Terry's the
plane would have crashed. Terry could feel the craft being shaken as if
a mighty hand had taken it in its grip, as the gusts of wind struck
vicious blows at the wings.
Terry's grim face was set with determination. But her hand on the stick
showed no sign of her fear, it did not tremble or lose its power to
control. She was glad now that her father had insisted on training her
in all the stunts of the air, for there was no possible position that
her plane would take that Terry had not put it into deliberately above
her own flying field, and brought it out safely.
But this was altogether different. There she had _put_ the plane into
those dangerous positions, now she was being _forced_ into them and she
never knew what was coming next.
Terry knew the danger she was in but she felt no panic. Every nerve was
tingling, every sense alert. She knew she was doing her best. Her head
was clear, her hand was steady and she kept the little plane, climbing,
ever climbing.
The girl felt that _Skybird_ was fighting for life, with what seemed
like human intelligence. It shuddered and shook and it seemed to try to
right itself after a gust of angry wind.
Prim clung to the cowling, terrified yet fascinated as she watched her
sister. At times it seemed as if the plane had turned clear over, as if
it were going down in a tail spin, but the next moment Terry would bring
it up for a second. It was a big fight.
"She'll win," thought Prim. "She's wonderful!"
Only for a second did Terry lose hope of victory. There was a sputtering
of the engine that her trained ear heard. It sent a chill to her heart.
Her hand shook. She gave a frantic glance back to see if Prim had heard
that menacing sound. And that one look showed her a clear space in the
dark masses.
The storm was passing. Terry held to the controls, praying that the
engine would hold out until the wind ceased.
Suddenly Terry was able to put her plane into a steep climb that brought
her above the storm. Coming out of that black cloud Terry saw Allan's
plane ahead of her. She followed it, her heart singing for joy. A mist
came to her eyes as she realized that it was only by a miracle that both
planes had gone through the storm and survived.
Terry signalled with the wings of her plane and was answered in the same
manner. She followed Allan's lead, hoping that her engine would not go
back on her. At intervals she heard a sputter that terrified her, but
now the sky was clearing. She felt hopeful.
Allan finally headed east. This was strange. Terry looked at her compass
and a frown came to her face. What was Allan doing? He was going far out
of his way. At last she understood. Away in the distance was an island.
He was going to land. She wondered if he were having engine trouble.
Terry did not dare to open her throttle wide. Any extra strain might be
her undoing. But, as she neared the small island the plane ahead banked,
circled and signalled, then went into a dive for landing on the far side
of the island.
Terry tried to follow but the engine was sputtering once more. She made
a long dive which brought her amphibian into the water at the near side
of the island. There was a broad strip of sand and Terry sent her plane
cutting through the spray on to the beach.
"We're safe!" cried Prim as she nimbly stepped from the cockpit,
followed by her sister. "Wasn't that an awful storm?"
"It's just luck that we're alive. Now let's go over and see the boys. It
looks as if they might be having engine trouble, too," replied Terry.
After making fast their plane by a rope to a palm tree at the water's
edge, the two girls scrambled up over the rocky ridge to the low summit.
The island was narrow at this end and soon they were looking straight
down upon a sheltered cove where the boys had landed and saw the
amphibian floating on the water. A launch shot out from the shore and
when it reached the plane, several bundles were dropped into the boat by
the aviator, who then got out of the plane and was taken ashore.
The girls looked at each other, distress on their faces.
"We've followed a plane, but it's the wrong one!" cried Terry. "What a
stupid thing to do! Prim, how can you ever trust me again?"
"But _I_ thought it was Allan and Syd, too," replied Prim. "Never mind,
these men will help us fix our plane and we'll be off in an hour or
two."
With a wave of his hand the aviator started upward toward the summit
where the girls stood.
"He seems to be friendly," commented Terry. "But let's wait here to
greet him. How he'll laugh when I tell him that I thought I was
following another plane." The girls waited at the summit until the
stranger came up the winding trail. As they heard his footsteps Terry
moved forward to speak, then grabbed Prim's arm with a nervous grip. The
man had come out on the summit and was staring at them with a triumphant
grin. His eyes were glittering with a fierce and cruel light that made
the cast in his eye more pronounced. It added to the sinister look in
his face. The man facing them was Joe Arnold!
A moment later the girls gasped with dismay for their old enemy, Bud
Hyslop, came shambling up the trail.
"Well, look who's here!" said Bud and added sarcastically, "this _is_ a
pleasant surprise!"
But Joe silenced his rough-neck follower with a scowl and a low snarl.
"Don't get funny. Shut up!"
Joe Arnold, with menace in his voice, addressed the girls, "Why did you
come here?" he demanded. "What do you want?"
Terry stammered for a second then answered: "I was having trouble with
my engine after that storm and I knew I'd have to come down, so I
followed you here."
Joe stared at the girl and shrugged his shoulders. "That sounds fishy to
me. I think you're trying to spy on me. What brought you away down
here?"
"We're on a vacation," answered Terry. "We are on our way to the Canal
Zone."
Joe Arnold watched the girls contemptuously. "I don't believe you!" he
said. "I think you came here to watch me." Suddenly he turned to Bud.
"Go on down there and see what's the matter with Terry's plane."
"But I'd rather fix my own plane. I'm used to it and can fix it in a
minute. I know exactly what's the matter."
"No! Let Bud go as I told him! You stay here!" There was a note of
command that frightened the girls. Prim touched Terry's arm and said
softly. "Careful Terry, don't make him angry."
Terry gave her sister a grateful smile. She turned to Arnold and asked
pleasantly. "Did you get into that storm?"
"No, I knew too much to let that happen. I saw your plane go into it and
thought you were done for," he answered.
"How did you avoid it?" asked Terry.
"I was flying high, fifteen thousand feet. It never touched me. The
storm was all below me. I'm used to these hurricanes and I can usually
guess about how far the storm extends."
"I tried to get above it, but I didn't go far enough." Terry was
watching Joe's face while she was talking. Would he guess that she was
carrying an important paper for Peter Langley? Would she be able to keep
it hidden where he could not find it?
Now it was safely sewn once more in the lining of her flying coat but
that was not a good hiding place if he thought to search her.
A sudden shout from the harbor sent Joe Arnold hurrying down the trail.
Then he turned back. "Stay right where you are," he ordered the girls.
On second thought he said. "No, go on down the trail ahead of me."
"But I don't want to go!" flared Terry.
"If you're wise you'll do as I say!" Without another word he thrust the
girls ahead of him toward the beach.
Terry went without any further argument. For suddenly it had occurred to
her that she might learn something of Joe Arnold's schemes if she
pretended, to be friendly with him and didn't make him angry.
At the harbor a gang of blacks were loading a boat, preparing to take it
to the plane. Pedro, the chief was over six feet tall, wore only a loin
cloth and looked half savage. This giant was watching his men, who were
working for Joe Arnold. Pedro seemed to have a few words of English but
he spoke to his men in a mixture of Spanish and his own language.
"What terrible looking savages!" whispered Prim. "They look as if they
might be cannibals."
Terry laughed to conceal her fear. "I could even stand having a cannibal
around if I were sure that Allan and Syd had come through the storm.
They were flying higher than we were but I'm afraid they weren't high
enough, even then."
Terry was looking about her taking stock of the camp, which was composed
of mud huts, and several shacks that had evidently been built recently.
On the trail loomed a tall, weathered rock. Terry was pointing out to
her sister a great crevice in this stone and explaining the formation of
that wide fissure when Joe Arnold turned and saw her. His face flushed
angrily. He gave a final order to the black leader and then signalled
the girls to precede him up the trail.
"This is no place for you, after all. I shouldn't have brought you down
here where those savages could see you. They belong to a fierce tribe of
natives living in the clearings in the jungle. Pedro, the chief, that
big fellow, lives in one of my mud huts down there, so you'd better keep
away." Joe Arnold was nervous and stammered as he talked.
As they reached the summit once more Terry took a good look at him, and
saw that he was agitated.
"Evidently there is something down there that he doesn't want us to
see," whispered Terry to Prim as soon as she could do so without Joe
hearing her. "When I was interested in that big fissure in the rock, he
was scared stiff. I'd like to find out what he's got down there that he
doesn't want me to see. I'm going to find out! Just watch me!"
"Please don't, Terry! What do you care about his affairs? We've got
troubles enough as it is. How are we ever going to get away from here?
How will we fly to Peru with Dad's papers? My head is whirling with
problems and all I want to do is to get out of this jam as quickly as
possible." Prim ceased whispering as Joe came closer.
Terry was looking toward her plane. Bud Hyslop was busily testing the
motor. The girl could not bear the idea that Bud should touch _Skybird_.
"If you don't mind, I think I'd like to do my own repair work, Mr.
Arnold," said Terry with as polite a smile as she could muster. "I've
always done my own overhauling and somehow, I'd rather attend to it
myself. It's very kind of you to want to be so helpful, but please tell
Bud to leave my plane alone."
As she started toward the beach where _Skybird_ was standing, Joe Arnold
stepped ahead of her. "Now don't bother yelling and carrying on for
there is no one around to hear you except some savages and they are my
men. I'm boss here, and I tell you to keep quiet. I'm giving that plane
to Bud Hyslop. It's his from now on."
"You're giving him _my_ plane!" stormed Terry. "You have no right to do
that!"
"Is that _so_? Well, I'm taking the right!"
"But what about us? How can we get away?" cried Prim, almost in tears.
"If you take our plane, we've got to stay here."
"That's it exactly!" Joe sneered. "Here you stay until I get ready to
let you go."
He stared at them coldly then turned and walked away.