The Sky Phantom

by Carolyn Keene

  DURING the evening, Nancy speculated on the secret that Bruce declined to tell her. She tried several ways to get him to divulge it, but failed. The pilot merely grinned and refused to commit himself.

  The next morning he arrived early in his car and the two drove to the Excello Flying School. Bruce’s plane was ready, so he and his pupil climbed aboard.

  “Do you want me to take the controls?” Nancy asked him.

  “I certainly do,” Bruce said. “Well, I’ll tell you where we’re going. That’s the secret.” He grinned. “I can have my mysteries too. We’re flying to an entirely different location this time—in fact, one that is flat and reasonably smooth. If we come down, taxiing won’t be so difficult. But before we do that, I’m going to teach you something about accidental spins.”

  Nancy gasped at the thought of possibly spinning right down to the ground, but she said nothing to Bruce.

  In about half an hour, they reached the practice area. “Ready?” Bruce asked.

  “Quite,” Nancy replied.

  Bruce rolled into a steep turn. “Do you remember how you accidentally spun over the top during a previous lesson?” he asked.

  “How could I forget?” Nancy answered.

  “I’m going to demonstrate a similar situation to you,” the instructor declared. “However, this time we’ll spin out of the bottom of the turn, rather than over the top.”

  Nancy braced herself as Bruce tightened the turn to the left. Then suddenly he pulled the stick back with a snap and shoved the left rudder pedal forward. A split second later the plane whipped into a vicious spin.

  Nancy grabbed the sides of her pilot’s seat. “Oh!” she murmured.

  After several turns Bruce recovered from the maneuver.

  “Whew!” Nancy sighed. “What a ride!”

  “Rough, isn’t it?” Bruce said, “but I want to be certain that you fully understand these maneuvers so you won’t get into trouble in the future.”

  “May I try one?” the girl flier asked nervously. Then she told herself she must be calm.

  Guided by her instructor, Nancy manipulated the controls. Her first attempt merely resulted in a tight spiral, but her second and third tries yielded excellent spins.

  “Very good,” Bruce commented.

  Nancy, herself, was pleased. After half an hour of practice, however, the girl flier confessed that she was beginning to feel a bit dizzy. “I’ve had enough.”

  Bruce grinned. “I imagine you’d like to go down to terra firma for a while.”

  Nancy would not admit that her pulse was still racing even though she had done the last maneuver very well.

  “Yes, let’s.”

  They had no sooner touched down and Nancy cut off the engine than Bruce lay down and put his ear to the ground. Nancy watched, wondering why he was doing this.

  “Someone’s riding near here,” he announced a moment later.

  While the couple waited, Nancy hoped fervently that the oncoming horseman would not be Ben Rail. She mentioned this to Bruce, who frowned.

  “I hope not also, because I’d sure be tempted to punch him!”

  It turned out that the rider was not Ben Rall. He was a stranger to Nancy and Bruce, who introduced himself as John Wade. He did not wait for them to tell him their names.

  “You folks out for a little jaunt?” he asked pleasantly. He was a sun-tanned, medium-sized, rather stout man, who patted his tummy affectionately. “When I saw you coming down, I thought I’d give Susie gal here a break. She can rest while I talk to you.”

  Wade dismounted and looked at the plane. “Pretty neat little job,” he remarked. “I sometimes use a small craft in my work. But today I felt like getting away alone and chose to ride the pony.”

  The man explained that he was an oil prospector. “There’s probably no oil here, but then, one never knows.”

  Nancy introduced herself and Bruce, then asked John Wade, “Do you live nearby?”

  “Oh, no,” he replied. “I live a long way off. But I flew to a ranch some miles from this territory and borrowed this pony. There’s an old superstition that a man’s horse will lead him to gold. Maybe this one will find some black gold for me.”

  He looked at Nancy. Then, as if she did not understand what he was saying, he added, “Black gold is a nickname for oil.”

  Nancy’s detective instincts were aroused. “You must have some kind of information or clue that there is oil in this area,” she said, and waited eagerly for him to answer.

  The prospector laughed. “Yes, I had a tip. I haven’t much hope that it means a thing, but if there’s any sign at all, I want to try out a new invention of mine. I’ve always thought it was a shame that when men drill for oil a gusher sometimes comes in that can’t be stopped. A lot of oil is wasted before the well can be capped. I hope to change that.

  “With my invention there won’t be any wasted oil. Right now one of my gadgets is tied onto my pony. The device drills a tiny hole, so a small stream of oil can flow out with very little lost.”

  “That sounds great,” Bruce remarked. “I’d like to see it working.”

  John Wade proved to be a continuous and rather tiresome talker. Nancy found it easier to listen than to try thinking of something to say to the man. Presently his comments shifted back to the Excello Flying School plane Nancy and Bruce were using.

  “She’s really a little beauty,” he said, gazing intently at the craft. Turning to Bruce he added, “Would you object if I climb aboard and look her over?”

  Bruce winked at Nancy, then said to Mr. Wade, “Not at all. I’ll join you.”

  As John Wade turned, Nancy smiled at the pilot. She had guessed what he was thinking. He did not want this stranger to disappear suddenly with his plane!

  As the prospector went inside the cabin, Nancy began to wonder if there was any possibility that the man could be connected with Roger Paine’s apparent abduction, or with the sky phantom. Maybe he was out reconnoitering and was not really an oil prospector at all!

  “But I must be fair,” she decided, and tried to erase this suspicious idea from her mind.

  The man seemed to be very nice, and she did feel that he had an honest face. Nancy put any thought of trouble from her mind. She would take his word that he was a prospector and inventor.

  While waiting for the two men to reappear, the girl detective sat down on the stubby grass. She pulled a copy of the cryptogrammatic message on the medal from her shirt pocket. With a pencil she tried to make whole letters from the small lowest part of the words yet to be deciphered. She became so absorbed in her project that she did not notice how much time had passed.

  When she had nearly completed one word, Nancy hoped nobody would disturb her. The only sound she could hear was the rumble of the men’s voices in the plane.

  “This is it!” Nancy thought suddenly. The young sleuth was ecstatic! The last word in the puzzling code was “cloud.” Now the whole cryptogram read:REVOLUTION BOMB SITE

  UNDER GREAT CLOUD

  With no idea what the message meant, Nancy was eager to get back to the ranch and share her find with Pop Hamilton, Bess, and George. She was sure this message called for immediate action.

  Nancy glanced up at the doorway of the plane. The men were still conversing animatedly. She stood up, stretched, and gazed around. Suddenly her eyes focused on one spot. Mr. Wade’s pony was no longer standing where he had left him!

  The young detective turned in a complete circle, viewing the landscape in all directions as far as she could see. Finally she detected the animal running off in the distance. She was a mere speck with legs.

  Nancy cried out loudly, “Bruce! Mr. Wade! The pony’s gone!”

  The girl’s cry had rung out so loudly that both men appeared in the doorway at once. She repeated the bad news.

  “Where is she?” Mr. Wade asked in concern.

  Nancy pointed. “I think that’s probably your pony way over there.”

  The prospector panicked. “We mu
st get her back!” he yelled. “She’s carrying all my special equipment, which must not fall into the hands of anyone else!” Turning to Bruce, he said, “Will you take me in your plane to capture her?”

  The pilot looked skeptical. “Of course, I can taxi all the way down this valley, but it would be a rough ride. I can’t go very fast, and your animal may disappear before I can reach that spot.”

  Mr. Wade would not take no for an answer. “I’ve got to save my equipment!” he almost screamed. “No one must see my invention!”

  Finally Bruce said, “Nancy would you mind staying here for a little while? I’ll come back as quickly as I can. The plane will hold only two of us.”

  “I don’t mind,” she replied. “I may even look around a little.”

  After the plane had started its run, she gazed off to her right. Not far away she saw a hillside that was partly rocky and partly covered with vegetation.

  “That seems like an unusual formation,” she thought. “I think I’ll go over and investigate that place.”

  Nancy crossed the flat area, then began walking along the foot of the hillside. By this time both the pony and the plane were out of sight.

  Nancy’s attention was suddenly directed toward a nearby opening in the hillside. Was there a cave beyond?

  The opening was small, but large enough for her to squeeze through. Unhooking her flashlight from the belt of her jeans, she beamed it into the enclosed area ahead. To her surprise, the cave was apparently a large one.

  “How exciting!” she thought. “I must see what’s inside!”

  CHAPTER XIII

  Cave Mice

  NANCY squeezed through the narrow opening to the cave, beaming her flashlight ahead of her. The interior was large but the ceiling was low. She could barely stand up straight.

  As she progressed, the rough stones above her brushed against her hair, and she ducked often. There was nothing on the walls, ceiling, or floor of the cave to indicate that anyone lived in the place.

  “Maybe the sky phantom uses this for a hide-out,” she thought.

  A short distance ahead Nancy came to several stone steps, which led to a lower level. She stopped to examine them. Were they natural or had they been hewn out by some ancient Indians? They were very smooth and could have been worn by a lot of travel up and down.

  “This might have been a ceremonial cave, where the Indians had their religious meetings,” Nancy decided. The sandy earth floor seemed to have had fires on it for cooking with the ashes dispersed and trampled. There were no artifacts of any kind, however.

  “Probably looters have taken everything away,” Nancy thought.

  She descended the steps and beamed her flashlight around. She looked for niches or corridors that might lead out of the cave. The air inside seemed to be fresh and Nancy thought she could feel a slight draft. She concluded there must be another opening.

  The young sleuth kept walking. She could not see any side exits large enough for a man to get through.

  Suddenly she gave a soft scream. Mice were appearing from everywhere. They scurried across the floor, up the steps, and back toward the entrance. There were hundreds of them!

  “I must have scared those mice out of their hiding places,” Nancy thought. She smiled to herself. “Well, I can get along without them. I’m glad they’re going in the opposite direction and not bothering me.”

  At this instant she became aware of two other happenings. Larger mice were now appearing. They seemed to be coming out of the rocks! They, too, started to scoot past her. At the same time Nancy thought she felt rain. Was there a leak from the ceiling?

  As she looked up, the girl explorer realized that this was not rain dropping down. It was oil!

  “I’d better leave,” she decided.

  With mice all around her, she began to run toward the steps, but she could not get far. Already the oil shower was becoming heavier, making the floor very slippery.

  Nancy slipped several times and fell twice. She did not seem to be able to make any headway.

  “I must hurry out of here!” she thought frantically.

  At last, by sliding to one side of the cave, she managed to pull herself along and finally get over to the steps. But now she found it impossible to mount them.

  The oily rain had stopped abruptly but despite this Nancy found the stone steps too slippery to climb. After several attempts to get partway up and sliding back, she ceased to try this method of escape.

  “I’m glad the rain stopped,” she told herself, and beamed the flashlight around to see if there was any possible way to hold onto the wall and climb up. She found none.

  Now Nancy glanced at her watch. She had been gone a long time. If Bruce and John Wade had returned, they would certainly wonder where she was.

  “I must get out of here!” she resolved. The girl detective noticed that the oil seemed to be seeping into the sandy ground fairly rapidly. This gave her hope, even though she knew it would take a while for it to disappear entirely. In the meantime there might be another shower of oil!

  Suddenly she smiled. “Those mice are a lot smarter than I am! They knew just when to get out of here. I wonder how soon they’ll come back!”

  Nancy concluded she could not wait to find out. She must think of another way to escape from this oil-slick cave.

  “I have to tell John Wade about the oil,” she thought. “It seems strange that there is no activity—no drilling—around here. Could it be possible that none of the natives have found out what’s going on?”

  An idea came to her. She took off her sweater and doubled it up. Using it as a mop, she partially dried off the stone steps and managed to get to the upper level. When she reached the top, it was easier to walk because the oil had seeped into the earth as if the ground were a sponge. Nancy felt sure the formation of this small hill must be stone and sand.

  When she reached the opening and squeezed through, the girl detective looked off into the distance. Bruce’s plane was back! Excited over her find of oil, she hurried forward to tell John Wade about it. When Nancy arrived, she looked around but did not see the prospector. Bruce was seated inside alone.

  Nancy slid and fell in the oily rain.

  “Where’s Mr. Wade?” she asked.

  “After we found his pony, he rode off.”

  “You mean he isn’t coming back?” Nancy queried.

  By this time Bruce had climbed out of the plane and stood looking at the girl. Then he began to laugh. “No, John isn’t coming back, but he’ll wish he had. You’re a sight, Nancy! What in the world happened to you?”

  He continued to laugh so hard that Nancy began to look at her clothes and to feel her hair. She was covered with oil from head to toe!

  “I guess you’re right,” she told the pilot. “Bruce, this is oil! I got a shower bath of it in a cave I found.”

  Bruce looked skeptical. “You what?”

  Nancy told him the whole story and ended by saying the mice had had more sense than she about leaving before the oil shower. Bruce shook his head and burst into laughter again.

  “I’m sure sorry I missed that scene,” he said. “Well, hop aboard!”

  “Not this way,” Nancy replied. “I’ll ruin the plane with all this icky stuff.”

  Bruce said he would soon fix that. He took the oily sweater from her hand and dropped it into a metal container on the plane. Then he pulled out a bag of cloth wipers for her to use. They were all colors of the rainbow and made from all kinds of materials. Nancy found that the rolls of cheesecloth were the most effective.

  Bruce helped sop the oil from her hair and back, then he got into the plane and covered the copilot’s seat with a large piece of cloth. Finally he announced that he was ready for her to come aboard.

  “I’d better do the flying,” he said. “I think you’ve had enough adventures for one day.”

  As Nancy climbed in, she said, “Bruce, instead of going back to Excello, couldn’t we fly in the direction John Wade took? I want s
o much to tell him about the oil I discovered.”

  The pilot agreed. He zoomed down the flat, scrubby field, then took off. First he flew over the spot where he had overtaken the runaway pony.

  “John went on from here,” he said. “I think in this direction.”

  He banked sharply. Without warning the engine quit. Bruce immediately lowered the nose of the craft to maintain flying speed. “We can’t make a forced landing straight ahead!” he shouted. “The terrain’s too rough.”

  “What’ll we do?” Nancy gasped. “We haven’t much altitude!”

  Only the rush of the airstream could be heard in the cockpit. It was an ominous sound to the instructor and his student.

  “Hold on!” Bruce cried. “I’m going to try something!”

  The pilot’s knowledge of the area was to come in handy. He made a shallow turn in a south-easterly course,

  “The ground is coming up fast!” Nancy observed anxiously.

  Bruce said nothing. He kept descending straight on his selected course. Then Nancy noticed that the ground was beginning to slope away from them. They were entering a small but deep valley.

  The pilot coordinated stick and rudder and rolled into a gentle spiral. “There’s a dry riverbed below,” he said. “It’s large enough for us to set down on.”

  Nancy fought to remain calm as Bruce continued his descending turn. The walls of the valley seemed to be only inches from the plane’s wing tips.

  “Brace yourself!” Bruce cried, as he rolled the craft out of the turn. “We’re coming up on the final approach!”

  Nancy could now see the riverbed before them. It appeared to be smooth and long enough for a normal landing. Suddenly, as the plane’s wheels were about to touch earth, the alert girl spotted a fissure stretching across the width of the riverbed.

  “Watch out!” Nancy shouted.

  Bruce reacted immediately. He pulled back hard on the stick. Luckily, the plane had enough speed to take to the air again and leapfrog the fissure. The craft settled back to earth. The pilot applied brake and brought it to a stop.

  The fliers sat in silence for a minute or two. Nancy was the first to speak. “Congratulations,” she said. “That’s what I call doing the impossible.”