THE TEST FLIGHT
John, Paul, and Tom reached the fairgrounds a good full hour ahead of
the scheduled start that Saturday morning. In fact, Mrs. Ross had
given them an earlier breakfast than usual, so that they could give the
Sky-Bird II a general going over before it came time for her to make
her initial flight.
Of course all three young men were a good deal excited, although they
were careful not to let each other know it, for fear of being the
target for a little fun from the others. In this effort at reserve,
the irrepressible Tom was the least successful of the trio, as might be
expected, and when he caught John and Paul slyly winking at each other
and glancing in his direction as he nervously tried the same control
for the third time, he blurted out: "Oh, you fellows needn't laugh at
me! You're just as much on edge as I am, now that we're really going
to fly this old bird!"
"Come, Tom, don't try to cover up your nervousness by accusing us of
the same thing," protested Paul.
"You're as agitated as a young kid with his first electric toy train,
Tom," laughed John. "How much gasoline have we got in the tanks now?"
"The gauge shows ten gallons," said Tom, bending down and looking at
the instrument-board in front of the pilot's seat.
"That isn't enough for a decent flight," declared John. "We'll
probably be out for at least an hour, and we may use as much as fifteen
gallons in that time; that's about half the consumption of ordinary
airplanes, you know. We'll shove in twenty gallons more so as to be on
the safe side."
"We haven't put in any oil yet," reminded Tom. "We'd better put in
about two gallons, I should say. Most planes use about a half-gallon
to the hour; if we use half as much, that will give us plenty of
grease."
The tanks were in the lower part of the forward fuselage. With the
caps removed, a hose was inserted by Paul, and then John forced the
gasoline up by a small but powerful handpump until the gauge told that
the required additional twenty gallons were in. The same pump would
work with the oil also, and soon the viscid fluid had been transferred
from the storage can on the hangar floor to its proper tank in the
airplane. Thence it would feed itself up into the carbureter of the
working engine by a force-pump attached to the engine, as with the
gasoline.
The boys had just finished putting in the fuel when Mr. Giddings and
Bob drove up in the former's automobile.
"I expect this is a great day for you young men?" said the publisher,
with a smile of greeting to all. "I know it is a time I have looked
forward to myself for a good many months,--ever since I accepted the
challenge of the _Clarion_, in fact. Is the Sky-Bird supplied with
gasoline?"
"Yes, sir," said John; "we just got through with that job. We have
easily enough fuel aboard now for a couple of hours' flight, and that
will be long enough for a first one. New engines are always 'stiff'
and should not be run too long at a stretch."
"Have you run this pair yet?"
"Oh, yes," said Bob. "We have tried them out several times, dad, and
in connection with the propeller, too. They work tip-top, either
connected or disconnected. I tell you, when they're in connection they
certainly do make this big propeller hum!"
"I can't understand how you can operate the propeller in here," said
Mr. Giddings, much puzzled. "All the airplanes I have seen have always
dashed forward as soon as their propellers began to revolve under
impulse of the motor or motors; there was no restraining them. I
should think this machine would run through the front end of the hangar
here as soon as you--"
"Pardon me, sir," interrupted John, "but we have gone those fellows one
better. You forget that in the drawings we showed you there was a set
of brakes designed to be worked by a control within reach of the pilot,
brakes which will engage these ground wheels a good deal the same as
brakes work on automobiles--by a flexible band of steel and grit-filled
cotton which is made to compress over a large sort of hub on the inner
side of each wheel."
"Very good," said Mr. Giddings; "but I understand that has been tried
before, with the result that the airplane at once tipped forward and
stuck its nose into the ground, or rather tried to, smashing its
propeller to smithereens."
"They will do that every time unless something has been devised to
counteract this tendency to pitch over," explained John. "We have
devised the thing to prevent it, Mr. Giddings."
"See here, dad," put in Bob at this point. "Stoop down a bit and look
under the forward end of the body here."
His father did as requested, and Bob pointed out a circular opening
about the size of a saucer, from which protruded the end of an
aluminum-encased shaft bearing a small rubber-tired wheel of very
sturdy proportions.
"That is our preventer, dad," smiled his son.
"In a few minutes we'll show you how it works," added John Ross. "I
see you are wearing a cap, sir, as I suggested. That is all the
special dress you will need, as our enclosed cabin makes helmets and
close bundling unnecessary. We fellows will wear our regular working
togs."
Everything being in readiness, the four young men easily pushed the big
airplane out of the building and to a place where it would have a
smooth runway for a hundred yards ahead. The weather was ideal for the
trip. There was little wind, and the few strato-cumulus clouds which
were visible showed great stretches of azure-blue sky between them.
"Everybody climb in," ordered Tom, with a wave of his hand. "I'll
crank her up. You take the joy-stick, John."
All hands complied. Then Tom began to turn the big burnished
propeller, just as John threw a lever from the inside which caused the
auxiliary ground wheel to shoot down and engage the sod. At the same
time the movement of another lever by Paul set the airplane's brakes.
Several times Tom turned the propeller around. Then, with a pop, the
engine cylinders began to fire, Tom jumped swiftly back, and the
propeller whirred like a mad thing. At the same time the Sky-Bird gave
a start, as though to dash forward; but beyond a steady, slight
vibration of her whole body, as Tom slowed down the motor to four
hundred revolutions per minute, there was no indication to her inmates
that she was straining to get away. Tom now quietly mounted the step,
and came into the cabin, pulling the step up after him and closing the
self-locking door.
"That shows you how this third ground wheel acts, dad!" cried Bob
triumphantly to his father, who sat in a chair adjoining. "Now watch
the old girl jump ahead when Paul throws back the brake lever and his
brother lifts the third wheel and gives her more gas!"
The changes were made even as he spoke; the propeller's hum grew into a
mild roar through the cabin walls, and the Sky-Bird leaped away over
the ground, gaining momentum at every yard. To the surprise of even
two such veteran flyers as John Ross and Tom Meeks, the airplane had
gone less than fifty yards when she began to rise as gracefully as a
swallow in response to her up-turned ailerons and elevators. In less
than ten seconds she was well up over the fair-grounds, and the roofs
of all the buildings in the neighborhood were seen below them.
John kept the machine mounting at a good angle until the altimeter
showed them to be up two thousand feet. Then he straightened out the
ailerons and elevators, and began to run on a level keel. The other
inmates of the cabin noticed, by looking through the observation
windows, that he was gradually bearing in a great circle about the town
of Yonkers. Off to the northwestward were the rugged blue crags of the
Catskills, covered with patches of milk-white snow, and just in front,
winding like a huge serpent among the picturesque foothills, was the
sparkling Hudson, dwindling away to a mere silver thread in the north,
tapering away in the same manner toward the south, where it lapped the
piers of the city of New York and immediately afterward lost itself in
the waters of the Upper Bay. Although the great skyscrapers of the big
city itself could be dimly seen, they looked very small at that
distance.
Directly below them our friends could make out the familiar buildings
and landmarks of their own town as they swept past one by one, John
purposely flying at reduced speed so that a clearer vision could be
had. He also shot down to within a thousand feet, presently, as he saw
his own home approaching. Someone, whom both John and Paul immediately
recognized as their mother, stood in the door waving a handkerchief.
In recognition, Paul drew down one of the sliding windows, and put out
his head and fluttered his own handkerchief. Shortly afterward--it
seemed not more than a minute--the machine was over Shadynook Hill, and
Bob and his father were waving a similar salute to Mrs. Giddings.
As they swept on, men and women and children could be seen looking up
from the streets beneath. Most of these people were used to seeing
airplanes, but obviously the bright finish of the Sky-Bird II, and its
striking eagle-like appearance created more than passing notice.
Those in the cabin were amazed to note how effectually the new muffler
and the walls of the cabin shut out the sounds of operation. It was
very easy for them to talk back and forth with each other by using a
fairly strong pitch of voice, even when the machine was running at a
good rate, as it now began to do, for John once more gave the engine
more gas, and turned the airplane skyward. Up, up they shot like a
rocket. The hand on the dial of the altimeter moved along steadily--it
reached 2 again, passed to 3, 4, 5, 6; the earth seemed literally to be
falling away from them. All at once, when they were between six and
seven thousand feet high, and watching the minute patches of color far
below, which represented buildings, houses, hills, and the like, these
objects were swept away, and through the glass plates of the cabin
floor they could see nothing but a gray vapor below them. It was also
around them.
"We're passing up through a cloud," said Bob to his father, who had
never been in an airplane before. A moment or two later, the boy
added, as the blue sky could once more be seen below, "Now we're above
it, dad."
"It seems to be getting colder," remarked Mr. Giddings.
"It always gets colder the higher one goes," informed Paul.
"I hope you're not getting cold feet, dad?" grinned Bob.
"Oh, I'm comfortable, thank you," laughed his father. "Say, son, isn't
this as good a time as any to try out the merits of that wireless
'phone of yours? Can you work it from this height?"
"I don't know why I can't--and three times higher," Bob said; "we'll
try it right now. When I left home I told Sis to mind the set there in
my room, and watch for my signal. We'll see now if I can get in touch
with her."
So saying, Bob put on the wireless helmet, threw the switch, and kept
repeating, "Hello, Sis! hello, Sis! hello, Sis!" for a few moments in
the transmitter. Then he said, after a brief silence: "I get you,
Betty. Won't answer you now, as I want dad to talk to you."
With that Bob smiled, removed the headpiece, and slipped it over his
father's head, exchanging seats with him.
Mr. Giddings now heard a voice--the voice of his own daughter--asking
quite distinctly:
"Do you hear me, daddie?"
"I certainly do, Betty," said he; "where are you?"
"Here at home--up in Robert's room. I never thought I'd be sometime
talking with you when you were flying through the air. Mother just
called upstairs and says she can't see the Sky-Bird any longer. Where
are you now?"
"Up above the clouds somewhere just north of Yonkers," replied Mr.
Giddings laconically.
"Oh, goodness! I must run right down and tell mother. Please don't go
too high or too far, daddie, will you?" came the clearly agitated tones
of the daughter. "Is Robert all right?"
"Indeed he is. We'll soon be back with you and tell you all about it.
Everything is working perfectly. Good-bye, Betty!"
And Mr. Giddings arose with a pleased laugh, and hung up the helmet.
"I'll take off my hat to you, Robert," he said. "I never thought your
fussing at home all these years with electric batteries, buzzers, and
what not, would amount to anything like this."
The Sky-Bird II was now running straight ahead with the speed of the
wind, John giving the craft more and more gas, and crowding her pretty
close to the limit. The wind swept by both sides of the streamlike
cabin with a rushing sound like the distant roar of a huge cataract;
the flexible window glass gave slightly to its pressure, but there was
no sign of it breaking. One minute they were in the midst of a cumulus
cloud; the next, through it. Now they saw the faint outline of the
earth, now sky; now the earth was screened by cloud, but above were the
blue heavens.
"Guess how fast we're making it now?" cried John, one eye on the dial
which connected with the propeller-shaft.
"A hundred miles," ventured Mr. Giddings.
"Hundred and thirty," guessed Paul and Bob.
"Hundred and eighty," stated the more experienced Tom.
"All too low," said John. "We're going just exactly two hundred and
fifty, if this speedometer doesn't lie!"
He now announced that he was going to throw in the idle engine. This
was done successfully, and under the extra power they were soon making
the remarkable speed of three hundred miles an hour! John then slowed
up and disconnected first one motor and then the other, the airplane
continuing to fly with unimpaired smoothness.
As a last test, he dropped to a level of three thousand feet, at which
time they were considerably north of Albany, and throwing the
automatic-pilot into operation calmly removed his hands and feet from
every control except the rudder. In this fashion they ran for fifteen
or twenty miles on a perfectly even keel, the apparatus automatically
working the elevators and ailerons of the craft as various wind
currents tended to disturb its equilibrium. At length, John gave a
little twist to the rudder, and the way the Sky-Bird began to circle,
and to bank of her own accord, was a splendid sight to behold. No
hawk, sailing over a barnyard in quest of an unwary fowl, could have
performed the trick more beautifully.
As the flyers now headed for home they were all much elated at the
success of the first flight of the new airplane. And as it gracefully
swooped down into the fair-grounds a little later, coming to a stop in
a surprisingly short run over the ground owing to her braking feature,
this elation was increased.