Chapter 9

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.