The Hunniwell boys and the platinum mystery
it violently. There were, they knew, a number of rather large rocks near
where they had left it and the great danger was that it would come down
on one of them and be damaged. They could see that the surf was washing
nearly to the foot of the cliffs. Indeed, there was only a narrow strip
of beach left where they were at the moment and opposite the plane the
cliff came down nearer the ocean.
“Gee, but this tide sure does come in fast when it gets started,” Gordon
panted running close behind Bill.
“Seems that way,” Bill flung back.
“We may have to pull her up in the ravine.”
“Not a chance.”
“Guess you’re right. I reckon the water comes up too far.”
The plane was swishing about in a foot or more of water when they
reached it and they lost no time in getting a hold on it and pushing it
toward the cliff.
“Think we can make it from here?” Gordon asked when the plane was only a
few feet from the cliff.
“Guess so. Jump in and we’ll make a stab at it,” Bill told them.
The plane was now situated so that the water reached it only when the
surf rolled in and then it was not deep enough to move it. In a minute
they were all in their seats and Bill was slipping one of the cells in
its place in the motor which ran the elevator. But when, he felt in his
other pocket for the other cell he caught his breath.
“’Smatter?” Gordon asked.
“I’ve lost one of the cells,” Bill told him.
“You can’t have,” Gordon insisted.
“Perhaps I couldn’t but I did. It must have slipped out that time I
tripped and fell just after we rounded the point.”
“Slip it in the other motor and we’ll see if we can take off the regular
way,” Gordon advised.
“Impossible,” Bill told him. “Too many rocks in the way.”
“What’ll we do then?”
“I was thinking that perhaps we could put the cell in that motor and
jockey down to the path in front of the camp and then we could pull her
out.”
“Better make it snappy then,” Rogers spoke for the first time. “We’ll
have to run through some water as it is, I’m afraid.”
By the time he had finished speaking Bill had changed the cell and a
moment later pushed over the switch. As he had said there were too many
rocks of large size along the beach in that particular locality to
enable him to run fast enough to allow of a hop off, but by running
slowly he believed he could steer by them. He turned the wheel as the
plane started and it swung out toward the ocean and almost at once was
in a foot or more of water.
“Why didn’t you turn the other way?” Gordon shouted.
“Wasn’t room,” Bill retorted.
“Look out or you’ll swamp her.”
“I’m doing the best I can.”
“Don’t I know it?” Gordon cried.
The plane was now headed the other way and moving slowly toward the
cliffs. Then, without warning it gave a sudden lurch and they could feel
the wheels settle down as the plane came to a sudden stop.
“Struck a hole,” Gordon announced.
“How’d you guess it?” Bill smiled as he began speeding up the motor.
Faster and faster whirled the propeller, but the plane did not move even
when he had the switch on the next to the last notch.
“I’m afraid to give her the last notch,” Bill said.
“How come?” Gordon asked.
“It’s likely to strain her,” Bill told him. “There must be a rock or
something in front of one of the wheels, maybe both.”
“I’ll see,” Gordon told him as he leaped over the side of the cockpit.
“I’ll say there is,” he announced a moment later after a hasty
examination. “And it’s too big to move, must weigh a ton.”
“If we get out do you think we can push her back?” Rogers asked.
“Just a minute till I see what’s behind,” Gordon told him. “It’s in a
pretty deep hole but maybe we can do it,” he told them.
Rogers and Bill were out by the time he had finished speaking, the
latter having shut off the power when Gordon got out. But, light as was
the plane in comparison with other planes, it was too heavy for them to
move under the circumstances.
“She’s wedged in there for keeps, I’m afraid,” Bill panted, shaking his
head.
“Let’s put the cell in the other motor and see if she’ll go up
straight,” Gordon suggested.
“Won’t do any harm to try,” Bill agreed as they climbed back.
“I was afraid it wouldn’t work,” Rogers said a few minutes later, after
Bill had turned all the power into the elevator.
“Maybe if you and I get out she’ll do it,” Gordon proposed.
“It’s worth a try,” Rogers agreed.
“Wait a minute till I slow her down a bit,” Bill ordered.
Thus lightened the plane gave a lurch when Bill pushed the switch to the
last notch and the next instant it shot up into the air, and reached an
altitude of nearly a hundred feet before he could get the motor slowed
down.
“That did the trick,” Gordon declared, looking up at the plane.
“Sure did,” Rogers agreed.
“But look,” Gordon cried, “the wind’s taking him out.”
“And pretty fast, too,” Rogers agreed.
So intent had they been with the problem of getting the plane out of the
hole none of them had noticed that the wind had strengthened and was
blowing directly off shore.
“He’s still going up.”
“Wonder what his idea is.”
“Maybe he thinks he will strike an ocean breeze if he goes up far
enough.”
As each in turn expressed an opinion the plane was rapidly mounting and
soon it was up so high that it looked hardly larger than a small bird.
Then, suddenly, Gordon gave a gasp.
“I believe he’s falling.”
“Nonsense,” Rogers told him.
“I tell you he is,” Gordon insisted, and Rogers could no longer deny it.
Down plunged the plane, gaining speed rapidly, and Gordon groaned in
anguish while Rogers placed his arm about his shoulders in an effort to
comfort him.
“What could have——”
But he never finished the sentence. The plane was only a few rods from
the surface of the water when they saw that the forward propeller was
revolving and just before the plane touched the water it had gained
enough headway to arrest its downward plunge and in another minute the
danger was passed and the Albatross swept over their heads with Bill
leaning over the side of the cockpit waving his hand at them.
“Do you know what he did?” Gordon gasped.
“Started the propeller by the force of the air,” Rogers answered him.
“Not a bit of it. You can’t start an electric motor that way.”
“Gee, that’s so. I never thought of that, but you don’t mean——”
“But that’s just what he did. He changed that cell to the other motor
while the plane was falling and, thank God, he got away with it.”
“Who’d have thought of it but he?”
“And who else would have had the nerve to try it if he had?”
“Who indeed?” Rogers echoed. “But, I say, we’ve got to beat it and beat
it quick.”
“I’ll say so,” Gordon agreed as they started on a run through the water
which was now well above their knees.
The plane was circling around overhead and, as they looked up, they saw
that Bill was motioning to them to hurry.
“I’m afraid he’s going to have trouble in landing,” Rogers panted as
they hurried along side by side.
“Probably that’s what he is trying to tell us,” Jack replied.
The water by this time was touching the foot of the cliffs every time a
roller ran up the beach and they knew there was one place just before
they reached the path where it would be much deeper and they also knew
that the depth was increasing every minute.
“We may have to swim,” Gordon said.
“Guess it won’t be that deep,” Rogers replied.
And he was right, for although the water reached well above their
waists, they were able to keep their feet, and a moment later were
running up the pathway toward the camp. As they reached the place Bill
flew by scarcely ten feet over their heads making as little speed as was
possible to keep the plane in the air.
“Going to hit just beyond the camp,” he shouted. “Stand by to help put
on the brakes.”
“Give us time to get set,” Gordon shouted back and Bill waved his band
to tell them that he understood.
“He’ll hit right about here,” Gordon told Rogers indicating the place.
“And we want to stand right here,” he continued taking his position
about twenty feet from the landing spot. “He won’t be going very fast
and it’s up to us to catch hold of the plane and stop it before it hits
those rocks, and it’s going to be some job.”
“We’ll have to catch hold of the tips of the wings,” Rogers said.
“I reckon.”
“Think we can reach them?”
“Come to think of it I doubt it. We could reach them perhaps but there’s
nothing to get a grip on. No, we’ll have to let them go over us and grab
hold of the sides of the cockpit.”
“That’s my idea. Here he comes.”
The plane was only a short distance away and they could see that Bill
had shut off the motor and that the propeller had nearly stopped. Then
the plane struck the ground and they ducked. A moment later and the
plane rolled between them and they grabbed for the sides of the cockpit.
Fortunately they both got a good hold and, although they were swept from
their feet, their weight helped and the plane came to a stop just six
inches from a large rock.
CHAPTER XII
HARD WORK
“Anybody hurt?” Bill shouted as he leaned over the side of the cockpit.
“All right here,” Rogers cried as he slowly got to his feet.
“Same here,” Gordon declared. “But I wouldn’t want to do that for a
steady diet.”
“We were lucky,” Bill told them.
“I call it skill,” Gordon grinned.
“Well, take it all round, I guess we got out of a bad fix rather
handily,” Rogers told them.
“But, boy, I thought it was all up with you when I saw you coming down
out there,” Gordon said and Bill saw that there were tears in his eyes.
“You thought I had lost control?” he asked.
“Sure did.”
“How did you think of it?” Rogers asked him.
“Of changing the cell?”
“Yes, of changing the cell.”
“Seems to me it was a natural thing to think of under the
circumstances,” Bill told them, “But, to tell the truth, I didn’t think
of it until I was up pretty high. I went up hoping that I’d strike a
wind in the other direction. But I didn’t. The higher I got the harder
the wind seemed to be blowing and it was carrying me right out to sea.
So I did the only thing there was to do.”
“But suppose——” Gordon began, but Bill interrupted.
“No use in supposing. There wasn’t one chance in a hundred that I
couldn’t do it.”
“But you didn’t have much room to spare,” Rogers reminded him.
“Well, a miss is as good as a mile, you know and all’s well that ends
well, so let’s not worry any more about it,” Bill smiled.
“No, let’s get dinner,” Gordon added.
“You aren’t hungry?” Bill laughed.
“I’m always hungry.”
“Don’t I know it?”
“A body’d think you never got hungry,” Gordon declared as he started
gathering wood for the fire.
“I guess I usually manage to put away my share,” Bill laughed.
“I suppose we’ll have to take a trip over to the other island after
dinner,” Rogers suggested a few minutes later.
“Think we better wait till to-morrow?” Bill asked.
“What for?” Gordon demanded. “We’ve got to go so why not to-day?”
“Guess we might’s well,” Bill said putting some potatoes in the pot.
“You know what I’d like for dinner?” Gordon asked.
“That’s easy, square tails,” Bill laughed.
“What’s a square tail?” Rogers asked.
“Bill, he doesn’t know what a square tail is.”
“Gee, I guess I’m in wrong now,” Rogers grinned.
“But no harm done,” Bill assured him. “A square tail is a trout, one of
the kind that have colored spots on them.”
“Is there any other kind?” Rogers asked.
“Sure there is. There’s a kind that we call a crotchtail that have no
spots. Some call them togue.”
“They’re the lazy fellows,” Gordon explained. “You have to fish down
deep for them and it’s about as exciting to catch one as it is to hook a
good big sucker. They won’t fight, but they’re mighty good eating, just
the same.”