_Chapter III_
A WILD RIDE
"Hey, not so fast," laughed Bill. "First of all, will you please stepinto the cabin, and in the second locker on your right you'll find ahelmet and a phone-set. Bring them out here. This shouting is making usboth hoarse and we'll soon be as deaf as posts from the noise of themotor."
"Aye, aye, skipper," breezed Dorothy, and disappeared aft.
In a minute or two she returned with the things he had asked for. Billshowed her how to adjust the receivers of the phone set over the earflaps of her helmet. Then reaching for the head set at the other end ofthe connecting line, he put it on and spoke into the mouthpiece whichhung on his chest.
"Much better, isn't it?" he asked in a normal tone.
"It certainly is. I can hear you perfectly," she declared into hertransmitter. "--What next?"
"Come over here and sit on my lap.--I'm not trying to get fresh," headded with a grin, as she hesitated. "I've had to make a shift like thisbefore with Dad. There is only one way to do it."
Dorothy was a sensible girl. She obeyed his order and placed herself onhis knees.
"Now put your feet over mine on the rudder pedals. And remember--to turnright, push down on the right pedal, and vice versa. Get the idea?"
"Quite, thanks."
"Fine. Next--grab this stick and keep it as I have it. Now, I'm going topull my feet from under yours--ready?"
"Let her go!"
Bill jerked his feet away, to leave Dorothy's resting on the pedals.
"Good work!" he applauded. "The old bus hardly swerved. Keep her asshe's pointed now. We can't change her course, much less take off untilwe hit one of those inlets along the Connecticut shore, and smootherwater. Brace yourself now--I'm going to slide out of this seat."
Dorothy was lifted quickly. Then she dropped back into the pilot's seatto find herself fighting the tenacious pull of heavy seas, straining herleg muscles to keep the plane from floundering.
"How's it going?" Bill's voice came from the floor of the cockpit wherehe was busily engaged in pounding circulation back into his numbed legsand feet.
"Great, thanks. But I will say that this amphibian of yours steers morelike a loaded truck in a mudhole than an honest-to-goodness plane! Howare your legs?"
"Gradually getting better--pretty painful, but then I'm used to thissort of thing."
"Poor boy!" she exclaimed sympathetically, then gritted her teeth in theeffort to keep their course as a huge comber crashed slightly abeam thenose.
Bill grasped the side of her seat for support. "You handled that onenicely," he approved when the wave had swept aft. "But don't botherabout me--you've got your own troubles, young lady. I'll be all right ina few minutes."
"What I can't understand," said Dorothy, after a moment, "is why thisplane didn't sink when you landed and picked me up. How _did_ you keepfrom slewing broadside and going under?"
"Well, it was like this. When I left you on the beach, I motored backhome to New Canaan. The sky was blackening even then. I was sure we werein for the storm, so after putting up the car, I went out to the haybarn in that ten acre field where we house the old bus. She needed gas,so I filled the tanks, gave her a good looking over and went back to thehouse and telephoned."
"You mean you phoned the beach club about me?"
"Yes. The steward said you weren't anywhere around the club, and yoursloop wasn't in the inlet. It was pretty dark by then and the wind wasblowing a good thirty-five knots. I made up my mind you must be introuble. Frank ran after me on my way out to the plane--he's ourchauffeur you know--"
"Yes, I know--" broke in Dorothy--"he drove you and your father to themovies last night. I saw him."
"That's right. Frank's a good scout. He wanted to come along with me,but I wouldn't let him."
"I s'pose you thought you'd save _his_ skin, at least?"
"Something like that. A fellow doesn't mind taking responsibility forhimself--it's a different thing with some one else. Well, before Frankand I ran this plane out of the barn, I rigged the sea anchor (nothingmore than a large canvas bucket with a couple of crossed two-by-twosover the top to keep it open) with an extra long mooring line. Thesea-anchor I brought up here in the cockpit with me. The other end ofthe line was fastened to a ring-bolt in the nose, of course. Well--toget through with this yarn--I took off alone and flew over to theSound."
"But wasn't it awful in this wind?"
"It was pretty bad. As soon as I got over water, I switched on thesearchlight, but it was a good half-hour before the light picked you up.Then I landed--"
"Into the wind or with it?" interrupted Dorothy.
"Getting interested, eh?" commented Bill with a smile. "Well, justremember this then, never make a downwind landing with a seaplane in awind blowing over eighteen miles an hour."
"Why?"
"Because the wind behind your plane will increase the landing speed tothe point where you will crash when you strike the water--that's a goodreason, isn't it?"
"Then you landed into the wind when you came down for me?"
"That's right. And as soon as I struck the water, I shut off the motor,opened one of these windows and threw over the sea anchor. Then I fishedyou out with the boathook."
"It sounds sort of easy when you tell it--but I'll bet it wasn't." Shegazed at him admiringly. "You surely took some awful chances--"
"Hey there!" called Bill. "Pull back the stick or you'll nose over."
"That's better," he approved as she obeyed his order. "Keep it well backof neutral. Sorry I yelled at you," he grinned.
Bill got to his feet. "I'm O.K. now," he went on, "and you must bepretty well done up. I'm going to take it over."
Seating himself on her lap, as she had sat on his, he placed his feetupon hers. A minute later, she had drawn her feet back from the rudderpedals, slipped out from under and was seated on the floor, rubbing lifeback into her feet and legs, as Bill had done.
"Why is it," she inquired presently, "that the plane rides so muchsmoother when you're guiding her?"
Bill smiled. "When I give her right pedal, that is, apply right rudder,I move the stick slightly to the left and vice versa. In that way Idepress the aileron on the side I want to sail. It aids the rudder. Yougot along splendidly, though, and stick work when taxiing needspractice."
Dorothy got to her feet, rather unsteadily. "Look!" she cried. "Lightsahead. We must be nearing shore, Bill."
"We are. There's a cove out yonder I'm making for. And better still, thewind is lessening. Just about blown itself out, I guess."
In another ten minutes they sailed in through the mouth of an almostlandlocked inlet and with the motor shut off drifted in comparativelysmooth water.
"Any idea where we are?" inquired Dorothy, when Bill, after throwing outthe anchor, came back to her.
"Somewhere between Norwalk and Bridgeport, I guess," he replied. "Thereare any number of coves along here. I'll take you ashore, now. We've gota collapsible boat aboard. Not much of a craft, but it'll take the twoof us in all right. We'll go over to one of those houses, and get yourfather on the phone. He can come down and drive you back to New Canaan."
"Drive us both back, you mean!"
"Sorry--but it can't be done. I've got to take this old bus home as soonas the wind dies down a little more."
"How long do you suppose that will be?" asked Dorothy quietly.
Bill glanced up at the black, overcast sky and then turned his gazeoverside and studied the water toward the inlet's mouth.
"Oh, in about an hour I'll be able to take off."
"Then I'll wait and fly back with you."
"You certainly are a sportsman," he applauded and looked at his wristwatch. "It's only ten to six--though anyone would think it was midnight.I'll tell you what--suppose I shove off in the dinghy. I'll row ashoreand telephone your Dad from the nearest house. He will be half crazy ifhe knows you were out sailing in that blow and haven't reported back to
the club. In the meantime, you might scare up something to eat. There'scocoa, condensed milk, crackers and other stuff in the cabin lockernearest the stove. You must be starved--I know I am!"
They were standing on one of the narrow decks that ran from amidshipsforward to the nose of the plane below the pilot house.
"The very thought of food makes me ravenous," declared Dorothy, startingfor the cabin door. "Give Dad my love and say I'm all right--thanks toyou!" she threw back over her shoulder--"Tell him to put back dinneruntil seven-thirty--and to have an extra place laid. In the meantimeI'll dish up a high tea to keep us going."
Within the cabin, she set water on the two-burner electric stove toboil. While it was heating she let down the hinged table and set it withoilcloth doilies, that she found, together with other table necessitiesin a cupboard next the food locker. She discovered some bread and anumber of other eatables stowed away here, as well as the things Billhad mentioned.
Twenty minutes later, Bill returned to find the table set with cups ofsteaming cocoa and hot toasted sandwiches spread with marmalade.
"I'll say you're some cook, Dorothy!" He pulled up a camp stool, andseated himself at the table. "This is a real party!"
"There isn't any butter--" began Dorothy doubtfully.
"Don't apologize. It's wonderful--do start in or I'll forget my mannersand grab!"
Dorothy helped herself to a sandwich and handed the plate across thetable. "Were you able to get Dad?"
"Yes. Just caught him. He'd only got home from the bank a few minutesbefore. One of the maids told him you'd spoken of going sailing, so hephoned the club about you. He was just leaving the house to drive downthere when I rang him up."
"Did he say anything else?"
"Oh, naturally, he was glad you were all right. He didn't seem sopleased when I told him I was flying you back. He asked me if I was anexperienced pilot."
"He would." Dorothy chuckled. "What did you tell him?"
Bill laughed as he helped himself to another sandwich. "I wanted to getout here to your high tea, you know, so I asked him if he smokedcigarettes."
"_Cigarettes?_"
"Yes. 'If you do, Mr. Dixon,' I said--you know the old slogan, 'AskDad--he knows--' and I'm sorry to say I rang off."
"I'll bet he goes over and asks your father!"
"Very probably. Dad's rather touchy when anybody questions my rating asa pilot. I'm afraid your father will get an earful."
Cocoa and toast had disappeared by this time so the two in the cabin setabout clearing up.
"You must'nt mind Daddy's crusty manner," she said with her hands in adishpan of soapsuds. "He's always like that when he's upset. He doesn'tmean anything by it."
Bill, who was stowing away cups and saucers in the locker, turned aboutwith a grin. "Oh, that's all right. I had no business to getfacetious--my temper's not so good, either. But there's no hardfeeling." He held out his hands. "If you're finished with the dishpanI'll throw the water overside. The storm has broken and there'spractically no wind. So if you're ready we'll shove off for NewCanaan--and I'll give you your first hop."
Dorothy Dixon Wins Her Wings Page 3