“I’ve been wondering how long it would be before you did that,” came Bill’s voice through the headphones. “Never mind—it’s a grand thrill while it lasts—you’ll lose it soon enough.”
Dorothy, for the first time in her life, found a retort impossible to make.
“Now that we’ve got enough air under us,” Bill’s voice continued, “I’m going to fly straight for home. Remember what I said about watching your stick and rudder bar. Also keep an eye on the bank-and-turn indicator as well as the fore and aft level indicator and inclinometer.”
Dorothy shifted her gaze to the instrument board before her. Unconsciously she ticked off the other instruments. There were the two Bill had just mentioned; a magneto switch, oil pressure gauge, earth inductor, compass indicator, altimeter, 8-day clock, primary pump and tachometer. It pleased her that she could so readily recall their names and uses. Then she heard Bill’s voice in her ear again:
“The reason that I keep pulling the stick back slightly so often, Dorothy, in level flight, is because the old bus is a bit nose heavy. You’ll notice it when you handle her later on. It’s nothing to worry about. Very few planes are perfectly balanced.”
Dorothy turned her eyes guiltily on the stick again. She had been caught napping that time! One really needed half a dozen pairs of eyes for a job like this. And—how different Bill’s manner aboard an airplane, she thought. He was certainly all business. But she respected and admired his knowledge and his ability as an airpilot which left no opening for argument.
“You can look overside now,” came his voice again interrupting her thoughts. “We’re going to land.”
Below them she saw the Bolton’s house. The nose of the plane dropped suddenly as the stick went forward and they shot down to land on the field near the Bolton’s hangar.
Bill spoke again from the rear cockpit. “If you’re ready for more flight instruction, hold up your right hand.”
Dorothy held up her right hand.
“Good. Then we’ll practice taxiing,” came back the even voice. “Remember that a land plane with engine idling will remain at rest on the ground in winds of normal force. That means that all movement of the plane must be made by use of the engine. When your bus begins to move you control it primarily by using the rudder. In a wind as strong as the one blowing now, you’ll notice the plane’s tendency to turn into it. That’s due to the effect on the tail. It tends to swing like a weathervane until the nose is headed directly toward the point of the compass from which the wind is blowing. Your experience in sailing is going to be a great help.
“Now, just one thing more and we’ll shove off. While taxiing, you must hold the stick well back of neutral. That will prevent any tendency of the tail to rise and cause the plane to nose over. Grasp the stick lightly with your fingers. Never freeze onto anything. If you feel me wiggle the stick sharply—let go at once. I may or may not have my hands and feet on the controls, but you cannot know that. Act just as if you were alone in the plane. Got all that?”
Dorothy raised her hand again.
“Then snap on the ignition and get going.”
For the next hour she taxied the N-9 around the field while Bill issued commands from the rear cockpit. So interested was she in her lesson that it seemed no time at all before he told her to shut off the engine.
“Take off your helmet and get down,” he said as the plane came to a stop. And he helped her overside.
“Gee, Bill, it’s wonderful!” she cried, jumping lightly to the ground beside him.
“You did splendidly,” he encouraged. “This field is pretty rough in spots—makes it bumpy going. How are you—stiff?”
“Not a bit!”
“You need a rest, just the same.”
“But I’m not in the least tired. Can’t I go up now?”
Bill looked at her and shook his head. “Nothing doing,” he said with pretended sternness. “That is—not for the next fifteen minutes. Here comes Frank with something cold to drink on his tray—horse’s neck, probably. There’s nothing like iced ginger ale with a string of lemon peel in it when you’re real thirsty!”
“My, you’re thoughtful!”
“Don’t thank me—it’s all Frank’s idea.”
They sipped their drinks in the shade of the old barn that had been turned into a hangar for the Bolton’s planes.
“While you’re resting, I want you to study this paper, Dorothy. It’s a routine I want you to follow in preparing for every flight you take—with me, or soloing,” he explained, handing it over. “When you’ve got it by heart, repeat it to me and then we’ll carry on. Your first job for the next hop will be to do exactly what I’ve written there.”
For perhaps ten minutes both were silent and Bill closed his eyes and turned over on his back.
“Asleep?” asked Dorothy presently.
“No—just relaxing. Got that dope down pat?”
“Sure. I mean, yes, instructor.”
“Give me back the paper then, and shoot!” he said, sitting up.
“Preparations for flight:” recited Dorothy. “First, inspect the plane and engine as necessary. Second, observe the wind direction. Third, observe the course direction (if a course is being flown). Fourth, set the altimeter. Fifth, see that helmet, goggles and cushions are properly adjusted. Sixth, see that cloth to wipe goggles is handy. Seventh, give the engine a ground test. Eighth, see that the gas valve is properly set. Ninth and last—Buckle the safety belt!”
“One hundred per cent! Good work, Dot. Now come over to the plane and show me how you do it.”
He grinned, awaiting a quick retort—but Dorothy, intent on the business of learning to fly, walked at his side in a fit of concentration.
“She sure is keen,” he said to himself. “I never got a rise—and ‘Dot,’ to Dorothy, is like waving the American flag at a Mexican bull!”
Dorothy continued to prove her aptitude for she went through the flight preparations with but one mistake. She entirely forgot the matter of the cloth to wipe her goggles!
Presently he took her up again and started in with his coaching.
“You now have thirty-five hundred feet registered on your altimeter,” he announced through her phone. “Enough air below to get us out of trouble if we should happen to get into it. The higher one flies, the safer one is. Now you are going to get straight flight instruction. I am moving the stick backward—now forward—now backward—now forward. See how the nose of the plane rises and falls in response? Watch closely—I’m going to do it again. There, now—take the stick and do it yourself.”
Dorothy did as he bade her. It was thrilling to feel the huge plane respond to her will.
Then followed instruction in moving the stick successively right and left by which means the right wing and then the left are correspondingly depressed. After that came rudder instruction. First Bill pushed the right and left sides of the rudder bar successively, forward, thereby swerving the nose first to the right and then to the left.
Dorothy, of course repeated these movements after him.
Then he explained that to hold a steady course, to fly straight, constant right rudder must be maintained to overcome the torque, or drag of the propeller blades tending to swing the nose to the left. While to fly level longitudinally, some point on the engine is kept in line with the horizon. That to fly level laterally, up aileron and opposite rudder are applied whenever a wing drops. He told her numerous other things, such as that when flying straight, the nose should frequently be dropped momentarily, or the course changed a few degrees in order to look ahead. Otherwise, an approaching plane may be hidden by the engine.
“Good night!” thought Dorothy as she strained her ears to catch every word, while she watched the controls and saw how the plane reacted to their manipulation by her instructor. “If it takes all this detail to fly straight and level, I’ll get the heebie-jeebies when it comes to acrobatics!”
“Take over controls,” came Bill’s voice. “Fly str
aight for that white church tower on the horizon.”
Dorothy’s body stiffened, but she took hold of the stick again bravely enough, and placed her feet on the rudder bar at the same time. She could feel her temples throbbing, and her heart was beating faster than the clock on her instrument board. At last she was actually flying an airplane—all by herself. But was she? Suddenly there came a check in the forward speed of the plane and Dorothy felt it start to slew off sideways as the nose dropped.
Then before she knew exactly what was happening, the stick in her hand seemed to spring back, then to the right, while right rudder increased considerably without help from her foot. Up came the nose, followed by the left wing, and down went the right. The slewing stopped as suddenly as it had begun. Then she felt left aileron and left rudder being applied—and once more the N-9 was flying straight and level.
“Forgot what I said about checking a skid just now, didn’t you?” said Bill’s voice in her ear. “Here’s the news again. Any swinging of the nose to the left can be promptly recognized and checked—but,—and here’s where you went wrong—the nose cannot be swung back to the right without applying a small bank. Any attempt to do so will cause your plane to skid. That naturally results in a loss of flying speed forward and the heavier end drops. If not checked at once, it means going into a spin. Carry on again now, and please try to keep your wits about you. This is not a kiddie-car. Mistakes are apt to be costly!”
Dorothy bit her lips in anger. More than ever did she regret the lack of a mouth piece on her head phone. Her temper flared at his sharp tone, and what seemed to her unfair criticism so early in the game. But she took over again as he ordered and gradually her vexation disappeared in her effort to concentrate every faculty on the job of flying the plane and keeping to her course. She was gradually gaining confidence. She made the same maneuvers which had caused the skid before, and carried through perfectly.
Bill told her so in no stinted terms, and the last shreds of her anger disappeared.
“The man who put me over the bumps,” he added, “always said: ‘when a student aviator makes a mistake, give him blazes—make him mad. He’ll remember what he should have done all the better—and live longer!’ That advice applies to either sex, Dorothy. Naturally, I hope you’ll live to a ripe old age.”
Dorothy liked him for this apology. She wanted to thank him but of course that was out of the question.
“I’ll take her over now.” She heard his even tones once more, above the engine’s roar. “Time for lunch. This afternoon, if you like, we’ll take up another end of this business. And you can get even by teaching me how to become an honest-to-goodness sleuthhound!”
CHAPTER X
THE MEETING
After lunch Dorothy and Bill established themselves comfortably in the shade of the terrace awning back of the Bolton’s house, and Dorothy’s ground training began.
“First of all,” said her instructor, “you must learn the signals for maneuvers, such as when the stick is shaken laterally, one hand held up, it means control of the plane is resumed by the instructor. Opening the throttle in a glide means resume level flight. There are eight of these signals to memorize. Then there are eight correction signals as well.”
“I’ll get them down soon enough,” his pupil assured him. “Is that all?”
“I should say not. That’s just a starter. Your ground training will consist of three parts: theoretic training, which takes up principles of flight; aircraft construction, aviation engine construction; and the elements of meteorology. Next, practical training, which embraces the maintenance and repair of aircraft together with maintenance and repair of aviation engines. Then comes aviation procedure, which takes up air commerce regulations; instruction procedure (signals come under that) and precautions and general instructions.”
“Whew!” whistled Dorothy in dismay. “It is a business!”
Bill laughed at her forlorn expression. “Cheer up—the first hundred years are the hardest. But seriously, to become an efficient air pilot, it is essential to know thoroughly this ground work and all of the maneuvers I listed under elementary flying. None of them can be safely omitted. Of those I included under advanced flying, acrobatics are not required for a pilot’s license, but they’re a grand help in developing ability to handle a plane with confidence. Proficiency in reverse control flying, precision landings with power, forced landings and cross country flying is required for an interstate commercial license—and vital for every pilot.”
“Is that all?” asked Dorothy, with diminished enthusiasm.
“No. To become a real flyer, you must understand aerial navigation and pass off formation flying and night flying. It sounds like a lot—but it really isn’t so difficult. Of course, if you don’t want to go the whole way—”
“Oh, but I do, Bill,” she said earnestly. “It’s only that I never dreamed there was so much to be learned. It kind of takes my breath away—”
“You mustn’t let that bother you. I’m glad you’re going to do the thing up right, though. It will take a lot of your time—but you’ll find it worth your while. Let’s get busy now. We’ll start on signals. Then later this afternoon you can go up again if you feel like it.”
For the next two weeks Dorothy worked daily with Bill. By the end of that time she had completed her elementary solo flying and was now engrossed in mastering the difficulties of reverse control.
Bill realized after giving her two or three lessons, that his pupil showed a high degree of aptitude for flying. Their trip home in the amphibian after the wreck of the Scud, had proved pretty conclusively to him that this sixteen-year-old girl had an unusually cool and stable temperament. Ordinarily, flight training is inadvisable for anyone under eighteen years of age, and Bill knew that twenty years is preferable. For, ordinarily, the instinctive coordination between sensory organs and muscles, which is necessary toward the control of a plane in the air, does not develop earlier. An airplane must be kept moving or it will fall; and the processes of reason are far too slow to keep up with the exigencies of flight. Flying cannot be figured out like a problem in mathematics. Calculation won’t do the trick—there isn’t enough time for it.
Of course there are exceptions to this rule. Bill Bolton was one himself, and Dorothy, he knew, was another.
When Mr. Dixon questioned him as to Dorothy’s progress, he gave him a list of the maneuvers that had already been mastered, and the approximate length of time she had taken to satisfy him in performance.
“But that doesn’t mean a thing to me—” objected the older man. “Look here—I was talking to a friend of mine who is an old Royal Flying Corps man. He said that Dorothy should wait several years before training. How about it? I know your reputation as a flyer, and I’ve proved my confidence in you by trusting you with my daughter’s life. Why is it better for her to start now, rather than later?”
“Do you play the violin, sir?”
“No ear for music.” Mr. Dixon shook his head in reminiscence. “My father played well. It was his ambition that we play duets together. But after wasting money for two years on lessons for me, he gave it up. My! the sounds I made when I practiced! It must have been torture to him. I can’t tell one note from another—but I remember how awful it was. But what has that got to do with Dorothy’s flying?”
“A good deal. You couldn’t play the violin because you are not musical, and only a musical person can learn to play it well. In some respects, mastery of the violin and mastery of flying, have a common bond. With both the one fundamental requirement is natural or instinctive aptitude. Flying is an art, and without natural ability it is useless to attempt it. And if it isn’t inherent, Mr. Dixon, it just can’t be acquired. Moreover, the only way to find out if that aptitude exists, is by trial. If Dorothy had the natural ability for the violin that she has for flying, practice and experience would make her a second Kreisler!”
A smile crept along the corners of Mr. Dixon’s mouth. “Ah, but Kreisler is
a man!”
“I know, sir, but honestly, sex has nothing to do with it.”
“So you think she should keep on with her flight training?”
“I know she should, Mr. Dixon, if you want her to fly at all. She has all the qualifications that go toward making a really good air pilot.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear you say it, and glad you’re so enthusiastic.”
“Of course I am,” declared Bill. “She’s fearless and alert and she loves the work—she’ll do well.”
And so Dorothy continued her flight training.
She came down one afternoon from a solo flight and Bill, who had been watching her maneuvers from the shade of the hangar, walked over as the plane rolled to a stop.
“Not so good—” she called out as she sprang to the ground. “I nearly overshot my landing.”
“So I noticed,” returned her young instructor rather grimly. “Carelessness, you know, that’s all. Keep your mind on the job. And here’s something else. Remember, when you are making a flipper turn, the nose must first be dropped to level. Otherwise you’ll get into serious trouble. Also don’t forget that until the wings pass an angle of bank of 45 degrees your controls are not inverted and must be handled as in a normal turn.”
“O.K. skipper,” she sighed. “I’ll remember in future.”
“One thing more. Those two 360-degree spirals with an altitude loss of about 1000 feet were well done. But you must bring your plane out of reverse control spirals above 1500 feet altitude—Now we’ll put your bus away and call it a day.”
Work finished, they strolled over to the terrace where Frank as usual had iced drinks awaiting them.
“You’ve certainly taught me a lot in fourteen days,” observed Dorothy after sipping her ginger ale. “But it’s kind of put a crimp into our detective work. By the way, you never have told me what you had up your sleeve with regard to the robbery—something to do with an airplane coming in handy, wasn’t it?”
The Second Girl Detective Megapack: 23 Classic Mystery Novels for Girls Page 166
