Part 14 (2/2)

”Stall 'em off somehow. I'll think of some gag to tell them. When we get nearer Miami, I can wire the chief of police to bring some of his men and meet the plane at the airport.”

Osceola's tone was not encouraging. ”I wonder,” he said.

”Wonder what?”

”I'm afraid you're too sanguine, Bill. I know this type of bully and scoundrel we're up against. What is more-several of those men back there in the cabin know me-I bear the marks of their whips on my back.”

”Umm!” grunted Bill, his fingers drumming a tattoo on the wheel.

”They'll have to smash the cabin door to get out here. I shot the bolt when I came forward.”

”But that door won't hold them if they once get going,” he argued.

”They'll probably bust through-stick a gun to your head and force you to fly them to the Island.”

”But they won't shoot,” replied Bill with conviction. ”They'll know that that would mean a crash and pretty certain death.”

”How do you figure that? If they don't recognize me in this rig, they'll think I can take over from you and fly this s.h.i.+p-after your lights have been put out. I tell you, Bill, we're up against it, good and plenty!”

”I reckon you're right,” sighed Bill, and was silent.

Presently he spoke again. ”A captain should stay with his s.h.i.+p to the last,” he murmured, as if giving vent to his secret thoughts. ”But there are exceptions to every rule.”

”What are you saying?” Osceola was puzzled.

Bill hesitated for a moment, then went on with sudden energy.

”Open the locker under this seat. There are three or four parachutes stowed away there. I saw them when I first came aboard. Pull out three of them-one for each of us. When you and Sam have got into yours, I'll put on mine.”

”How are you going to fly the plane and do that, too?”

”Get yours on and I'll show you.”

Osceola brought forth two of the parachutes and pa.s.sed one over the seat to Sam. A motion or two from Bill gave them an idea of how to adjust the harness, and presently Osceola brought out the one for Bill. That young gentleman laid it on his wheel and began to issue further instructions.

”Place your feet on your rudder pedals, Osceola, and keep her nose pointed just as she is. That's right. Now take hold of your wheel.

No-don't clamp onto it that way. Hold it lightly-that's better. This wooden yoke to which your wheel and mine are attached controls the elevators, those horizontal planes on either side of the rudder-Push your wheel forward and with it the yoke-your plane flies downward. Pull back your wheel and she flies upward.”

”I didn't expect to be given flight instruction today-”

Bill laughed. ”That isn't the half of it, boy. I'm telling you this much just so you can guide the s.h.i.+p while I put on my parachute. But here's some more dope. These wheels are attached by wire cables to the ailerons, those hinged surfaces at the end of each wing. Their function, as they say in the Air Service, is primarily to impress a rolling movement to the airplane; just as the elevators are to impress a pitching movement. You see, in flying a plane, one not only has to steer it and balance it for the roll to either side like riding a bicycle,-the plane has to be balanced for the pitch fore and aft as well.”

Osceola nodded his understanding. ”I get you. Balance for the roll sideways by turning this wheel in the opposite direction from which she's tipping.”

”Right-o!”

”To raise the nose, I pull back the wheel; to lower it, I push it forward.”

”Go to the top of the cla.s.s,” grinned his friend. ”You're letter perfect, at least.”

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