The Secret Battleplane Page 4

  CHAPTER IV

  A TRIAL TRIP

  "A WILLING heart goes a long way," declared Desmond Blake. "On theother hand there's a verse:--

  "Give every act due deliberation; Make no man your friend Until his heart you know."

  "We'll risk that," rejoined Dick.

  "In that case we'll compromise matters," said the inventor. "Sinceyou have offered yourselves in all good faith, we'll run in jointharness for the next fortnight. I'll show you the ropes, and if atthe end of that time you wish to dissociate yourselves with theenterprise you may. In a fortnight's time I hope to be ready for anexperimental flight to London just to show the authorities what myinvention can do."

  "Hope the weather will be warmer," said Athol. "It must be cold workflying on a day like this."

  "Not in a covered-in artificially-heated chassis," corrected DesmondBlake. "Even the pilot's and observer's heads are protected bytransparent screens."

  "I should have thought that the snow driving against the screen wouldobscure it," remarked Dick.

  "Then we'll put your theory to the test," declared the inventorbriskly. "No time like the present. I'll open the doors to theirwidest capacity and fill up the tanks with fuel. You might also fixthe two automatic guns to their pedestals; it's as well to have atrial flight with the normal weights on board."

  The hose communicating with a powerful suction pump was coupled on tothe tanks, and fifty gallons of fuel taken on board.

  "I've doctored the petrol," explained the inventor. "I introduce aquantity of benzine in tabloid form. The result is--I am judging byresults obtained on a car--that I can get fifty per cent. more powerout of the motors. Now hold tight for the take off."

  The floor of the shed being slightly on the down grade the vibrationof the engines was sufficient to set the battleplane in motion untilit reached the open space in front of the doors.

  It was now snowing heavily. The tops of the pine trees were almosthidden in the blurr of falling flakes.

  "Pull that slide over the rearmost seat, Dick," ordered the inventor."It won't be needed this trip. That is good. Now, stand by with theignition lever. That will be your only job for a while."

  Desmond Blake had climbed into the pilot's seat, and had raised ahinged wind screen fitted with side wings and overhead covering.Athol followed his example, taking his place at the second, ormachine gunner's seat.

  The snow laden air reeked with petrol fumes and the smoke from theexhaust, but the noise of the motors was hardly audible without. Thethrobbing sound seemed to be confined to the interior of thefuselage.

  Both lads, agog with excitement, held on tightly. For some secondsnothing appeared to happen; then with a sudden, powerful jerk thebattleplane seemed to stand on end. Kept in a natural sittingposition by a delicately-balanced seat, the two chums were forciblyaware of a pain in their necks, as if they had banged their headsviolently against a door-post. The sudden starting or stopping of alift was nothing to the jerk, for the battleplane had to clear thetree-tops with little lateral space to spare.

  For the present they could see nothing except the whirring tips ofthe wings and the streaks of white as the machine soared against thefalling snow. Already the manometer registered a height of fourhundred feet and the needle was still moving rapidly round the dial.

  Presently the fuselage assumed a horizontal position. The movementwas now regular and free from vibration, for the direction of flightwas no longer in an inclined motion.

  "Easier than I thought," remarked the inventor.

  Without raising his voice he could comfortably communicate with therest of the crew, since the rush of air did not disturb the interiorof the fuselage. Nor did the snow accumulate upon the wind-screens asDick had surmised, for the nature of the transparent substance causedthe impinging flakes to disperse without any suspicion of moisturebeing deposited upon the glass.

  Owing to the design of the wing-screens it was now possible for thelads to learn and observe the ground almost immediately below them.Eight hundred feet beneath was a blurr of white, across which weretraced several winding dark lines, for the battleplane had run out ofthe falling snow and was now heading southwards.

  "Not much of a day for observation purposes," said Blake, who hadrelinquished his grip on the levers and was now trusting solely tothe "stabilisers" or automatic devices for maintaining a straightcourse. "We are now over Ludlow. That patch is the ruins of thecastle. You can just discern the town."

  "I thought Ludlow was built on the side of a steep hill," remarkedAthol.

  "It is," assented the inventor. "That street is almost as steep as aroof of a house. Altitude tends to impart an appearance of flatnessto the landscape, especially in the snow. We'll turn now, and followthe Shrewsbury railway. I don't like getting too far afield on anexperimental run when so many landmarks are obliterated. Now, Athol,make your way for'ard and I'll show you how to manoeuvre the plane.Dick will have his turn later. It is essential that every man of thecrew should know how to handle the steering and elevating gear."

  For half an hour Desmond Blake kept his understudy hard at it,showing him how to make the battleplane bank almost horizontally, andhow to change the speed gear to enable the wings to overcome theforce of gravity during the vertical flight.

  "You'll do," declared the inventor admiringly. "Now back to yourperch. We are going to have a shot at looping the loop."

  Desmond Blake waited until Athol had regained the gimballed seat,then, depressing a lever that had the double effect of lowering thegearing of the engine and elevating the "aerilons," or wing-tips, hecaused the battleplane to soar almost vertically upwards.

  The lads wondered why the terrifically acute angle of ascent did notcause the fuel to flow to the rearmost of the four connected tanks,and thus affect the aircraft's lateral stability. The inventor,glancing over his shoulder, must have read their thoughts.

  "Climbing to get a better chance in case she jibs," he called out."No need to worry about the petrol. Each tank has a reserve valvethat only operates when the angle of inclination exceeds fifteendegrees."

  The arrangement of the tanks was another instance of Blake'sforethought. At normal flying positions the petrol in each tank waspractically at the same level in order to ensure constant trim of themachine. But directly the tilt of the battleplane tended to allow thevolatile spirit to flow to the lowermost tank, automatic valves inthe connecting pipes came into action, thus causing each tank toretain approximately the same weight of liquid fuel.

  For three minutes the battleplane climbed steeply and at a high speedthat had never yet been approached by the most daring aviator. Then,following a hasty caution from the pilot, the aeroplane began todescribe a circle in a vertical plane. Although the seats retainedtheir normal positions, the centrifugal force tended to throw Atholand Dick off their balance. The next moment their heads were within afew feet of the up-turned floor of the fuselage, while their feetwere dangling in the space enclosed by the wind-screens. Five secondslater the battleplane had regained its normal position, havingdescribed a complete loop of a radius of less than a hundred feet.

  "That's good!" exclaimed the inventor with pardonable pride. "Nowlook out to enjoy the sunshine."

  To the lads' surprise the battleplane was bathed in bright wintrysunshine. The aeroplane had emerged above the bank of snow clouds andwas cleaving her way through the clear air. Away to the south-westthe sun was low in the heavens, for it was now within an hour ofsunset.

  "Time to get back," declared Blake briskly. "We've got to dropthrough the snow-clouds beneath, and trust to luck to pick up ourbearings. 'Fraid I've overstepped the bounds of discretion, but itwas jolly well worth it."

  Actuating a lever he "locked" the wings. Like a giant seagullswooping down from a lofty cliff the aeroplane began a steadyvolplane towards the bank of clouds a thousand feet below.

  At a speed of well over a hundred and fifty miles an hour thebattleplane cleft the bank of suspended vapour. Almost pitch darknesssucceeded the
clear sunshine of the upper air. The sudden transitiontemporarily blinded the three aviators.

  Desmond Blake spoke not a word. With his eyes fixed upon the dials ofthe manometer he gauged the earthward flight. At five hundred andfifty feet, an altitude well above that of the highest hills on theWelsh border, he checked the descent. Although the gloom was now lessit was still impossible to discern anything of the country beneath.Evidently the battleplane was encountering a snowstorm heavier thanshe had previously experienced.

  Standing by, ready to "flatten out" at the first sign of terra firma,the inventor allowed the machine to continue its downward flight,although at a greatly retarded velocity.

  Suddenly he thrust the vertical rudders hard over, at the same timeunlocking the wing mechanism. As he did so he had a momentary glimpseof a tall slender spire within fifty feet of the tip of the leftwing. Immediately afterwards the battleplane almost skimmed a loftypinnacle that resolved itself into another snow-outlined spire.

  "By Jove!" ejaculated Blake as he set the battleplane to climb abovethe danger area. "We're slightly out of our bearings."

  "Where are we, then?" asked Dick, who had also seen the fleetingvision.

  "Over Coventry," replied the inventor. "We've narrowly escapedcolliding with two of the city's three famous spires. Take her,Athol, and keep her as she is while I look at the map. It will be acompass course back, with a good deal of guesswork thrown in."

  A hurried consultation told Blake that, allowing for the almostcross-set of the northerly wind, half an hour's flight in anorth-westerly direction ought to bring them within recognisabledistance of home.

  "Birmingham's beneath us," observed Blake after a few moments'interval. "Fine city, Birmingham, but a nasty place if one has tomake an involuntary landing."

  He had hardly uttered the words when with a disconcerting jerk themotors faltered, picked up for a few pulsations, and then ceasedfiring.

  The battleplane began to drop towards the labyrinth of buildingsthat, hidden by the thickly-falling flakes, lay less than threethousand feet below.