by Roy Rockwood
CHAPTER III
A WILD NIGHT RIDE
"Go!"
It was less than half an hour after the appearance of Grimshaw onthe scene that the Baby Racer was all ready for its stormy night'sflight.
The old aviator had fussed and poked about the dainty littlebiplane, as if it was some valued friend he was sending out into theworld to try its fortune. Every once in a while he had growled outsome brief advice to Dave in his characteristic way.
Then he directed and helped, while two field men started the machineon its forward run.
"Look out for telegraph poles, and watch your fuel tank," wasGrimshaw's final injunction.
Dave knew the Baby Racer just as an engineer understands hislocomotive. Daylight or dirk, once aloft the young aviator did notdoubt his own powers. The moment the Racer left the ground,however, with a switch of her flapping tail, Dave knew that he wasto have no easy fair-weather cruise.
"Slow it is," the watchful, excited Hiram heard him say, working thewheel as cautiously as an automobilist rounding a sharp curve.
Dave saw that everything depended on getting a start and reaching ahigher level. He kept the angle of ascent small, for the maximumpower of the engine could not be reached in a moment. The startingspeed naturally let down with the machine ascending an inclinedplane.
"It's slow enough, that's sure," remarked Hiram. "It's the wind,isn't it, Dave?"
"We don't want to slide back in the air or be blown over backwards,"replied Dave, eye, ear, and nerve on the keenest alert.
The wind resistance caused a growing speed reduction. Thesensitiveness of the elevating rudder warned Dave that he mustmaintain a perfect balance until they could strike a steady path offlight. Hiram's rapt gaze followed every skillful maneuver of themaster hand at that wheel.
"Good for you!" he chirped, as Dave worked the ailerons tocounteract the leaning of the machine. A swing of the rudder hadcaused the biplane to bank, but quick as a flash Dave righted it bygetting the warping control on the opposite tack, avoiding a badspill.
The machine was tail heavy as Dave directed a forward plunge,coasting slightly. He had, however, pretty good control of thecenter of gravity.
It was now only a question of fighting the stiff breeze thatprevailed, and keeping an even balance.
Hiram's eyes sparkled as the Racer volplaned, caught the head windat just the right angle, and struck a course due northwest like asail boat under perfect control.
The engine was near the operator's seat, and on the post just underthe wheel were the spark and throttle levers on the fuselage beam.The steering wheel was a solid piece of wood about eight inches indiameter with two holes cut into it to fit the hands.
The passenger's seat now occupied by Hiram was in the center line ofthe machine, so that, filled or vacant, the lateral balance was notaffected.
Hiram knew all about the monoplane dummy or the aerocycle withtreadle power for practice work which he had operated under oldGrimshaw's direction. As to the practical running of a biplanealoft, however, that was something for him to learn. He was keenlyalive to every maneuver that Dave executed, and he stored in hismind every new point he noticed as the Racer seemed fairly startedon its way.
"Keep me posted, Dave," spoke the willing Hiram. "If anythinghappens I want to know what you expect me to do."
"I don't intend to have anything happen if I can help it, Hiram,"replied Dave. "This is a famous start."
"It's not half as bad as I thought it would be," said Hiram.
The rain had changed into a fine mist, but the breeze continuedchoppy and strong at times. Dave had gone over the course with Mr.King in The Aegis twice in the daytime, and had an accurate idea ofthe route. However, he had landmarks to follow. What guided Davewere the lights of the various towns on the route to Kewaukee andrailway signals. These were dimly outlined by a glow only at times,but Dave as he progressed felt that he was keeping fairly close tohis outlined programme.
Hiram chuckled and warbled, as he knew from Dave's manner and theway the Baby Racer acted that his friend had it under full control.Our hero attempted no fancy flying nor spurts of swiftness. Up tothe end of the first hour the flight had proven far less difficultthan he had anticipated.
"There's Medbury," said Dave at length, inclining his head towardsa cluster of electric lights below and somewhat beyond them. "Thatmeans one-third of our journey covered."
"It's great what you and the Baby Racer can do, Dave," cried theadmiring and enthusiastic country boy. "We're going to make it,aren't we?"
"If the wind doesn't change and we meet with no mishaps," answeredDave.
A stretch of steady sailing was an excuse for Hiram to share a brieflunch of ham sandwiches with Dave. The thoughtful Grimshaw hadprovided these at the last moment of the departure of the biplane.
By the watch Mr. King had given him on the occasion of winning arace for the Aegis, Dave found that it was a little after twoo'clock when the Racer passed a town named Creston.
"It's only twenty miles farther, Hiram," announced the young aviatorwith satisfaction.
"And plenty of juice in the tank left to go on," added Hiram. "Thisis a trip to talk about, eh, Dave?"
Dave nodded and smiled. He suddenly gave renewed attention to wheeland levers.
"Anything wrong?" inquired Hiram, noticing the movement.
"The wind is shifting slightly," was the reply.
Dave felt of the breeze cautiously after that, keeping his cheekwell to windward. It required constant watchfulness andmaneuvering for the next fifteen miles to keep the controlpermanent. Dave was glad when a dim glow of radiance told that theyhad nearly reached the end of their journey.
Dave "ducked," as the phrase goes, as a swoop from a new quartersent the machine banking.
He managed the dilemma by circling. There was only five more milesto cover. Dave went up searching for a steadier air current, foundit, maintained a steady flight for over a quarter of an hour, andslowed down slightly as they came directly over Kewaukee.
"Going to land?" inquired Hiram, attentively attracted by all theseskillful maneuvers.
"Yes," replied Dave. "The question is, though, to find just theright place."
Dave tried to figure out the contour of the landscape beneath them.He passed over high buildings, skirted what seemed like a factorydistrict, and began to volplane.
"Going to drop?" queried Hiram.
"I think so," responded Dave. "According to those electric lightsthere is a park or some other large vacant space we can strike onthis angle."
"The mischief!" exclaimed Hiram abruptly as the Racer struck a lowerair current a strong blast of wind made it shake and reel. Thenthere was a creak, a sway and a snap.
"Something broke!" shouted Hiram in excitement.
"Yes," answered Dave rapidly. "It's one of the right outermoststruts between the supporting planes."
"The one that snapped the other day," suggested Hiram.
"Likely. Grimshaw fixed it with glue and bracing, and fitting ironrings about it. The vibration of the motor and the straining havepulled the nail heads through the holes in the rings."
"Can you hold out?"
Dave did not reply. He felt new vibrations, and knew that thestrain of warping the wings at the tips had caused more than one ofthe struts to collapse.
The young aviator realized that it would be a hard drop unless hedid something quickly and effectively. There was no time to think.Counterbalance was everything.
Dave tried to restore the disturbed balance of the machine bybringing the left wing under the control. Then he forced thetwisting on the right side.
The young aviator held his breath, while his excited companionstared ahead and down, transfixed. They were going at a rapid rate,and every moment the Baby Racer threatened to turn turtle and spillthem out.
Dave succeeded in temporarily checking the tendency to tip. Allaerial support was gone. He kept the rudder at counterbalance,threw off the po
wer, and wondered what they were headed into.
The next moment the Baby Racer crashed to the ground.
