Joe Strong and his wings of steel or, A young acrobat in the clouds
“And we’ll go with you,” said Ben Turton and Bill Watson, when Joe
told them his plans.
“We saw the failure; now we want to see the success,” said the old
clown.
CHAPTER IX
AN ACCIDENT
“Well, they don’t look different, Joe, from their appearance when I
saw them first,” commented Benny Turton.
“And they don’t seem a bit safer,” added the veteran clown. “I say
again what I said before, Joe, that you’ll break your neck if you try
to fly with those things.”
Joe, with his two friends, had arrived at Mr. Brader’s factory, and
the wings, as reconstructed by Mr. Ryden, had been brought out for
inspection.
“Well, as to that,” said Joe, “I’ll answer you one at a time. The
wings may not _look_ very different, but they are. Aren’t they, Mr.
Ryden?”
“Oh, yes,” the inventor said. “The principle is the same--that is,
we use a storage battery and motors to vibrate the wings. But the
wings themselves are larger and are differently curved, so they will
beat the air with more force. And they are moved by gear wheels and
torsion rods now, instead of by sprocket chains, as Joe had them at
first. In that way, by using motors only slightly more powerful
and a storage battery of somewhat larger capacity, we get much more
force. I think Joe can fly this time.”
“Well, we’ll soon know,” asserted the young circus performer, “for
I’m going up in them.”
“I’d like you first to see a preliminary test without getting into
the cage,” said the inventor. “We’ll send the _Bat_ up alone.”
“All right; maybe that would be best,” agreed Joe.
Accordingly the machine was taken out into the factory lot, and with
the connecting wire, the holding rope and other devices arranged
about as before, Joe threw the switch that sent the current into the
motors.
At once the wings vibrated powerfully, and, once the motors were
running at three-quarter speed, up rose the wings of steel, soaring
through the air, and carrying a weight equal to Joe’s body.
“Hurrah!” cried Joe, “they’re going up! They’re going up, and I
haven’t used the full strength of the current either! Hurrah!”
Upward soared the wings to the full length of the holding rope. Joe
looked at the strength-indicating gauge, and noted a pull of sixty
pounds. This with all the weight aboard that the _Bat_ would have to
carry, indicated good reserve power.
“They’re a success!” cried Joe.
“Not until you try them yourself,” said Mr. Ryden with a smile.
The wings of steel hovered in the air above the heads of Joe and
his friends. It was a Saturday, and no workmen were in the factory,
consequently there was no crowd to witness the test.
“What do you think now, Bill?” asked Joe, his eyes shining in triumph.
The veteran clown pondered for a moment.
“Well,” he said slowly, as he looked up at the _Bat_, which was
tugging at the stout holding rope, “they went up, that’s sure, Joe;
but what about coming down?”
“That’s easy. All I have to do is to shut off the current, and
they’ll soar down like a bird. What do you think of them, Ben?”
“They’re great!” exclaimed the human fish. “But I’d think twice
before trusting myself once to them, Joe.”
“I have thought twice. I’m going up in a little while. You’ve turned
the trick, Mr. Ryden.”
“Glad you think so. There were a lot of problems I had to solve that
I had never met with before. It was a novel idea--making wings of
steel--and I give you credit for originating it, Joe Strong.”
“Well, now for a real test!” cried the lad. “Here they come down!”
As he spoke he shut off the electric current. The wings stopped
flapping up and down, and the machine slowly settled to earth, with
a sort of volplane motion, familiar to all who have seen aeroplanes
glide earthward.
“Don’t let it down too fast,” cautioned Mr. Ryden.
“I’ll not,” Joe answered. Occasionally he turned on the current for
a moment, and this, by vibrating the wings, would check the downward
sweep of the _Bat_, until finally it settled on the grass not far
from the watchers.
“And now for my part in the programme,” remarked Joe, as he proceeded
to make the final test.
He had brought with him his football helmet, which he used when
riding his motor-cycle on the high wire, but, aside from this, Joe
took no precautions. There were none he could take, for the use of a
life-net was out of the question.
“But if I do fall, I won’t fall hard,” he told his friends, “for the
wings will themselves act as a check to a rapid descent.”
The holding rope was taken off, and the pull-gauge removed, while Mr.
Ryden detached the electrical wire. When inside the metal and leather
framework of the _Bat_ the current would be turned on and off by Joe
himself, a switch being placed where he could easily reach it. As has
been mentioned before, the steering was done with the feet.
In the original wings Joe’s arms had been thrust through loops in the
underside of the wings themselves. But in the new machine the wings
vibrated too rapidly to allow him to do this, so a new resting place
had been devised for his arms.
In a short time Joe was ready to get inside the framework, which was
so hinged as to permit ready entrance and exit. He took his place,
and looked at his waiting friends.
“Watch me soar!” he said, smiling. “I’ll not go very high nor very
far at first.”
“The shorter distance you go up, the less you’ll have to cover coming
down,” said the old clown grimly.
“Don’t worry!” laughed Joe.
The young experimenter was the coolest of them all, for even Mr.
Ryden, who admitted having once gone up in a balloon, showed
nervousness. But, as has been said, Joe seemed to have been born
without nerves. Or, perhaps, they were under such perfect control
that what to others would be dizzy heights were as nothing to him.
There was a moment of hesitation, while Joe and Mr. Ryden looked over
every part to see that nothing had been misplaced by the experimental
flight.
“She seems to be all right,” the lad announced as he looked at the
electrical switch, and moved his feet on the rudder controls, showing
that they answered perfectly.
“Yes, I guess there’s nothing more that we can do,” said the inventor.
“Well, here I go, then!” exclaimed Joe.
With a quick motion he threw over the electrical switch. There was a
humming, throbbing note as the motors took up the current, and then
the wings, controlled by the gear wheels and torsion rods, began to
flap up and down. Slowly they vibrated at first, for Joe was feeding
the current in gradually. Then the wings of the _Bat_ went up and
down faster and faster until one could hardly distinguish them except
as a blur of blackness.
“He isn’t going to make it--he’s too heavy,” murmured Bill Watson.
But, even as he spoke, the machine rose from the ground, and then, as
they looked on in wonder, the _Bat_ soared upward on a long slant,
taking Joe with it.
“Here I go!” he called down to them.
For a moment they were speechless with wonder, and then Benny gave a
cheer in which the other two joined.
“Hurrah! Hurrah!” yelled the human fish. “Joe’s done it again! He’s
put another one over!”
Up and up the youth went on his wings of steel--up and up, until he
was several hundred feet above the earth. And then the watchers saw
him sail out across an open field.
“He’s doing it! He’s doing it!” cried Bill Watson. “Just as he said
he would.”
And Joe was. The wings of steel seemed to be a perfect success. They
had carried the lad up, and he was able to guide himself in any
direction he desired, even against the wind.
“Though he won’t be able to do much against a powerful wind,” said
the inventor. “The wings aren’t strong enough for that. But they are
just right for exhibition purposes. See him go! He’s as fearless as a
bird!”
And so the boy was, and almost as free in the air as a feathered
songster. Back and forth he guided the _Bat_, to one side and then to
the other, now up and now down.
“Now he’s coming back!” exclaimed Ben. “Say, I believe I’d like to
try it myself. It looks perfectly safe.”
“It isn’t as easy as it looks,” commented the inventor.
“Look!” suddenly exclaimed the clown. “Is he all right? It seems to
me that the thing is lopsided!”
“It is!” agreed Mr. Ryden. “Something is wrong! He’s tilting too much
to one side. I wonder what can be the matter?”
They saw with alarm that Joe was not flying as well as before. He was
headed for the apparatus factory, and in another moment the machine
was hovering over the roof. Then the _Bat_ was seen to drop suddenly.
“He’s going to fall on the roof! He’ll be hurt--killed maybe!” cried
Benny.
CHAPTER X
SUCCESS AT LAST
Just what had happened to Joe, enclosed in the cage part of his
wings of steel, the watchers did not know. All they were certain of
was that the lad seemed to have lost control of the machine and was
coming down rapidly, straight for the roof of the factory.
“I can’t understand it,” said Mr. Ryden. “The wings are still
vibrating, and they ought to hold him up.”
“But they don’t seem to be going as fast as they were,” observed the
old clown. “Too bad! I don’t want to be a dismal prophet, but Joe
sure is going to be hurt!”
And it certainly seemed so.
Nearer and nearer to the roof of the factory fell the _Bat_ with
Joe in it. They could see him more plainly now, and he seemed to be
working desperately with hands and feet to correct whatever was wrong.
“I can’t understand it,” said the inventor. “It seems as if the
battery were giving out, but it was newly charged, and there ought
to be plenty of current in it still.”
“Look!” quickly cried Benny Turton. “He’s steering away now.”
As they watched, they saw Joe guide the mass of metal and leather
away from the factory. He no longer hovered over the roof.
“He’ll have farther to fall to reach the ground,” said Bill Watson,
“but the turf will be softer than the roof.”
“Maybe he won’t fall,” observed Benny. “The wings seem to be going
faster now.”
“That’s what they are!” exclaimed Mr. Ryden. “He’s got better
control.”
Joe had soared upward a way now, and the big wings were certainly
going faster, which would seem to indicate that whatever had been the
matter with the current was now remedied.
But all danger was not over. Even though the _Bat_ sailed away from
the vicinity of the factory, it was not working properly. There was
still what in a ship would be called “a list to port.”
“I can’t understand what makes him tilt so,” said Mr. Ryden. “It must
be something wrong with one of the rudders. See! He’s going up again!”
And so Joe was. He had guided his peculiar craft away from the danger
of the factory, and was mounting upward. But whether this would
enable him to regain an “even keel” was a matter yet to be settled.
It was soon evident that Joe was not going to gain the perfect
control of his machine which he needed to be able to guide it safely
down. For, as his friends watched, they saw him suddenly swerve to
one side, and then shoot down on a long slant.
“There he goes! He’ll be killed sure!” cried Bill Watson.
“Come on!” shouted Benny. “We must be on hand when he falls, to do
what we can for him!”
Mr. Ryden, with a gesture of despair, followed the two circus workers
out through the gate of the factory yard. The test had taken place
within an enclosure fenced about, but Joe had soared over the fence,
and above the field beyond.
“He’s going to have a bad fall!” exclaimed Bill, as the three raced
on toward the point where it seemed Joe would land in his wings of
steel.
But Benny, with a quick glance ahead, exclaimed:
“If he can only hit the water it may save his life!”
“What water?” asked the old clown.