Famous Flyers Part 18

All the baggage stowed away, the boys, the Captain and Pat got into the plane. They waved good bye to the others outside, the huge craft taxied over the field, turned into the wind and rose into the air. It was pleasant being off at last. There was the grand trip before them, and then the vacation itself, fis.h.i.+ng, swimming, shooting. Hank had filled their heads full of the glories of his private mountain, as he called it. The cabin with its huge open fireplace built of stones, the bunks in two tiers like the berths on a pullman. Bob and Hal had already decided that they would have to take turns sleeping in the upper one, because surely the upper one would be the most fun.

Their thoughts kept returning to the cold mountain streams filled to the brim with sc.r.a.ppy fish, and the waterfall that Hank said he used as an outdoor shower. A whole month of it! The boys could hardly sit still on the leather cus.h.i.+ons.

"Want something to eat?" said Bill.

"Of course," they said, almost together.

Bill reached for the lunch hamper. Then something seemed to go wrong.

The plane lurched. But they hadn't struck an air pocket. It's nose fell, and the three were almost thrown into a heap, one atop the other. The plane was going into a spin! Beyond the gla.s.s part.i.tion, Pat lay slumped over his wheel.

Something had to be done at once. And it was Hal who did it. He pushed open the gla.s.s part.i.tion, and got somehow to the pilot's seat. With all his strength, and his excitement gave him a strength that he had never before possessed, he pulled Pat out of his seat, and pushed him through the door, where the Captain and Bob were waiting to take him. Hal slipped behind the wheel, and neutralized all controls.

Thank G.o.d, they had been flying at a high alt.i.tude. The spin wasn't a tight one, but a loose one. Hal pushed her nose down. That was what Pat had told him, wasn't it? Don't try to pull her nose up. Push it down, and she'd come out of it and go into a glide. At first nothing happened.

Hal was trembling, not so much with fear as with exaltation. He felt the great s.h.i.+p respond. They were coming out of it! They were gliding swiftly down to earth. He had her perfectly under control. Slowly he pulled her up, then, and they were flying quietly and steadily with the horizon again.

The Captain was at the door behind him. "You're great, Hal, you're great. You had more guts than any of us. I knew you had it in you, and you've showed us, Hal."

Hal was happier than he had ever been in his life. He felt that he was master of the world now. He'd saved his pals, and now he would never have to be afraid of anything again. "How's Pat?" he asked.

"We're turning around. He hasn't come to," said the Captain. "I'm afraid he was hurt more badly than he thought."

Hal banked and turned. It was good to feel the s.h.i.+p respond to him, dipping one huge wing slowly, and turning about gracefully in a great circle. If not for Pat, his happiness would have been complete.

They got Pat to the hospital, where it was found that the nasty crack on the skull had given him a slight concussion. But you couldn't keep Pat down. It merely meant postponing that trip, not cancelling it.

Hal was the hero of the day. The newspapers, who got the story at the airport, hounded him until he conquered his shyness, just to get rid of them. They made the most of the story, and Hal was almost afraid to leave the house, for fear some of his friends would meet him in the street, because Hal was still the same modest retiring soul that he had been.

But he did leave the house to go down to the hospital to see Pat, along with Bob and Captain Bill. Pat was sitting outside in a wheelchair when they came, and they sat down on the gra.s.s beside him, and talked about their postponed trip.

"Do you know," said Captain Bill, "when we come back from our trip, there's something that's going to keep me busy."

"What's that?" asked Bob.

"I'm going to collect all of those stories we told into a book. What do you think of that for an idea?"

"Great!" said Bob. "All of our stories? Mine, too?"

"Sure, all of them."

"But Hal won't have a story. He hasn't told one," said Bob.

"Hal's going to be the hero," said the Captain.

THE END