CHAPTER XIV
Flying Solo
Major McCarthy was quite sure of his pupils. He was certain of their ability to land, to take off, to fly, to know what to do in case of an emergency. He had taught them to be not merely flyers, but all around pilots. For that reason he had insisted that they spend many hours learning the intricate parts and mechanics of a motor. His plans went further. He wanted them to learn more of the technical affair that an airplane is. When the time came, he would teach them as much as he knew about navigation, how to fly blind, and many other things that had to do with flying. But all that was a sort of post-graduate course. For the present, they had earned their wings—and how!
He had absolute confidence in his young aviators. And William was his star pupil. Technically, not one of his pupils had as yet gone up solo. However, each one of them had gone up at least once, taken off, flew, performed a couple of simple stunts, and landed again with McCarthy in the rear seat, who didn’t say a word or move a muscle; on that one flight he was merely a passenger. Therefore his confidence in the boys was based not merely upon his affection for them or his opinion of their ability, but upon the fact that they had proven their ability. For that reason he made elaborate arrangements for their solo flight. It was to be on Wednesday, at about five in the evening, when the weather is usually not very bumpy and quite mild. Secretly he had invited the parents of the boys, the Mayor, a few other notables, and let it be known that the public was welcome. As for the boys, they were not merely going to fly solo, but to do other things. He had arranged everything. This was to be their graduation exercises.
When the time came, more people turned out than were expected. A special section of ground was roped off for the several hundred spectators. All the boys’ parents were there; even Dr. Morrison had managed to get away from his office. Some few of the spectators were jittery and anxious. McCarthy was as calm and serene as ever, smiling and joking. A few of the boys were at first a bit nervous but they soon got over it. They realized that they were merely going up in the same way as when their instructor went with them. This time, however, they were going alone—solo. And since they were confident of their flying ability and of McCarthy’s teaching, they felt that they had nothing to worry about.
Major McCarthy summoned the boys together and they lined up in front of him. They were wearing their Scout uniforms and flying helmets and goggles. They were all very happy. The Major addressed them. “Boys,” he began, “this is your graduation day. Today you are going to make your first solo flight—that is, you’re going to take up a plane and land her again all by yourselves. Having completed your solo flight successfully, you’ll be presented with your wings; the Mayor will make the presentation. You’re also going to get a letter from me stating your successful completion of the course.” Pause. He looked from one to the other of the boys. “Are you ready?” he asked.
“Yes,” they answered in unison.
“Very well then. Each one of you will go up in the Avro, perform any one simple stunt you choose, bank her several times, then land again. After each one of you has done that, I’ll have you go up in the air again, but about that, later. William, you make the solo flight first.”
Major McCarthy had a definite purpose for designating William to go up first. William was the best of all his pupils, and the others, seeing him perform well, would be heartened and do as well.
The spectators cheered heartily when they saw William walking toward the Avro which had been wheeled out of its hangar and was being warmed up by a mechanic. William climbed in and the chocks were jerked away. He opened the throttle and the mechanic leaped forward along the ground. Shutting off the power by means of the thumb switch, the plane slowed down. He turned the nose into the wind. The next moment he was off, skimming over the field, then the plane rose lightly into the air like a bird. Easily and smoothly, the machine climbed fast. Down below, the spectators craned their necks to see. William climbed until he was about two thousand feet above ground. He banked and flew directly over the airport. After circling it twice, he straightened out, then opened wide the throttle. The machine bounded forward and the nose sprang upwards. As it rose, the forward speed decreased in spite of the fact that the engine continued to run at the maximum revolutions. The machine pointed vertically upwards and for about a moment it appeared to hang onto the rapidly revolving blades of the propeller. The spectators below watched the airplane with their mouths open. Some of them, who had never witnessed such a stunt, were positive that the machine would come crashing down tail first. But suddenly the nose fell over to one side, the tail shot up and the next moment the plane was shooting sharply downward. Two minutes later William was on the ground, and climbing out of the cockpit. The spectators cheered him. His friends shook him by the hand, slapped him on the back and told him it was a fine job. Major McCarthy smiled and called out, “All right, Paul, you’re next.”
Paul went through the same performance, and then the rest of the boys. Not one of them faltered. The spectators were delighted, and the parents were proud. As for Major McCarthy, he said nothing and revealed no emotion. To him, it seemed as though the whole affair was merely the successful completion of his teaching job. Inside, however, he felt very much pleased and proud. It was a pleasure to have such an able group of boys as pupils.
The Major had some other things in store for the boys. He was going to have them do some more flying. He had them lined up in front of him and addressed them. “That was well done, fellows,” he said, “but I expect even more from you. I’m going to have you do more flying. You’re all going up into the air again—and all together.” The boys opened their eyes wide and looked surprised. They wondered what the Major was up to. He smiled and continued, “You’re going up in pairs—Paul and William, Jack and Bobolink, Wallace and Bluff. While I’m talking to you, the mechanics are wheeling out two more machines, another Avro and a Bristol. William and Paul will fly the Bristol because William has already flown the machine. The others will fly the Avros. One of you is going to take the machine up and his partner will land it. You’ll change controls after every stunt. As to what you’re going to do in the air, follow William. Are you ready?”
“Yes!” They answered in unison.
“Alright, then. William and Paul will take off first, Jack and Bobolink next, and Wallace and Bluff last. Go to it.”
The Major had discussed his plans with William and had instructed the boy as to every move. The entire flight had been planned in advance and William knew it by heart.
The Bristol was somewhat larger and heavier than the Avro. William got into the front cockpit, Paul in the rear one. William was to take off, and he warmed up the engine. A minute later the chocks were jerked away. Turning into the wind, he skimmed the ground for a distance, then the machine rose gracefully and continued to climb. A minute later, Jack and Bobolink took off, and finally Wallace and Bluff. They were about two thousand feet in the air. William gave the signal and the three machines lined up in formation—the two Avros on either side and a little to the rear of the Bristol. They circled the airport twice. Again William signalled and the three planes lined in a row; they made believe it was a race. The earth seemed to shake with the drone of the motors. After that, they fell into line one behind the other. William signalled and each pilot was ready. The first machine did an Immelmann turn, followed by the second and third planes. Soon they were in the same formation as they had started but flying in the opposite direction. The Bristol now went into a “half-roll.” By pulling the stick back and kicking down the rudder, the machine turned over completely on her back with her nose pointing down. The pilot shoved the nose further down, flying at a steeper angle towards the ground; the pressure of the air against the wings forced the nose up again, and as the pilot kept pulling the nose of the machine up, it leveled out and continued to fly in the opposite direction. Both Avros followed the Bristol.
William next signalled for a “barrel roll.” To those on the ground, it seemed as though the machine, with a kind of cork-screw movement, had wriggled on her back and then wriggled back again. What actually happened was that the machine went through the same tactics as before in the “half-roll,” with the exception that instead of ending up in a dive, the plane continued to turn after being upside down and ended up on a level keel, flying in the same direction as before.
The next stunt the boys did was a “loop the loop.” The nose of the Bristol went up and the next moment was flying upside down, followed by a swift dive earthwards.
When all three planes completed the stunt they fell into formation. William signalled for number three—Wallace and Bluff—to land. Jack and Bobolink landed next. The Bristol with William and Paul became the only machine in the air. They were directly over the airport. William communicated with his friend to take over the controls. A minute later William slipped over the side of the plane and went hurling toward the ground. The spectators let out a scream of dismay. Ten seconds later, William pulled the rip cord of his parachute and went sailing majestically downward to the ground.
Again the boys were lined up, with all the spectators at their backs. The Mayor made a little speech and then presented each boy with his wings. He turned to the major and asked him to say a few words. “Very few,” replied McCarthy. “All I will say, boys, is—I’m proud of you.”
The young aviators were cheered. Then the boys cheered McCarthy. The Mayor held up his hand for quiet and then said, “And I want to add, major, that we, the people of Stanhope, are also proud of these boys and we are also proud of you.”
CHAPTER XV
A Complicated Surprise
After all the ceremonies were completed at the airport, the boys and their parents returned to town and were entertained at dinner by Dr. and Mrs. Morrison. All the trimmings were included, ending up with ice cream and cookies. Nuthin’ leaned back in his chair and patted his belly. “If I’d go up in a plane now,” he remarked jocularly, “The ship would sink like a rock, I feel so heavy.”
The boys laughed heartily. Bobolink said, “That’s nothing. If I got into a plane now, it wouldn’t lift off the ground.”
Some more laughter and a few more clever remarks. Then Ken asked, “Well, what’s on our program now?”
William replied, “Now that we are real pilots, we are going to do some real flying.”
“Not for a few days,” interposed Paul. “We have a swimming match for this coming Saturday and we have to practice up a bit.”
“Yes,” spoke up Jack, “and this time we are going to give that Slavin bunch a good beating.”
“You say that as though you intended to do them physical battle,” remarked Wallace, with a twinkle in his eye.
“Oh, no,” Jack hurried to make himself perfectly understood. “We are going to do it fairly and squarely. The Slavin group is a nice bunch and I don’t hold anything against them.”
“Except that they won the ball game,” said Wallace.
“They deserved it,” added William. “They played a mighty fine game, and Ted has never pitched as well as last Saturday.”
“W-w-what a-about Ken?” demanded Bluff. “He p-p-pitched m-m-marv-v-velously.”
“You said it,” agreed Paul. “I’ve never seen Ken pitch better ball than last Saturday.”
Ken said, “If it wasn’t for the boys backing me up as well as they did, it would have been just too bad.”
“Well, why do you think we were out in the field?” asked Bobolink. “Just for ornamentation?”
“Let’s cut the discussion,” announced Paul. “I for one feel tired, and I imagine that all of us are just a bit winded. So let’s break it up, go home and meet tomorrow morning for swimming practice.”
“Agreed!” cried William.
Everybody else seemed to feel that way. As a matter of fact, for the past half hour or so, the boys had begun to squirm in their seats and showed signs of nervousness and anxiety. So it was quite a relief for all of them to rise from the table and go their way. Ostensibly, each one was going home.
About half an hour later, Paul was walking down Main Street. He was all spruced up—wearing his new suit, a bright tie, his shoes shined to a gloss and his hair combed neatly. At Rogers Street he turned to the right. He walked along snappily and whistled a cheerful tune.
At the middle of the block, he met Paul face to face. Surprise showed on both their faces and their eyes almost popped at seeing each other. Quickly, each boy put his right hand behind his back. Finally, after a very embarrassing silence, one of the boys asked, “What are you doing here, Jack? I thought you had gone home.”
“What about you, Paul? I thought you were tired and were going to bed early?”
Silence. The boys squirmed and wriggled. One of them turned and looked at the house they were in front of. The other boy did likewise. Finally Jack asked, “What are you hiding there behind your back?”
Paul fidgeted. “Nothing. What about you?”
“Nothing.”
Again silence and the boys looked around with embarrassment. “You still didn’t tell me what you’re doing here,” remarked Jack.
“Just taking a walk,” replied Paul. “And you?”
“Also taking a walk.” He looked up at the sky and at the horizon. “Beautiful evening, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” replied Paul. “Where did you say you were walking to?”
“Right here. And you?”
“The same.”
The two boys looked at each other, their eyes met and slowly a grin spread over their faces. Finally they laughed and slapped each other on the back. Then Jack said, “Well, let’s go in.”
Paul shook his head. “No, wait a minute.” He noticed someone approaching. “Let’s hide behind the corner of the house.”
Jack and Paul retreated. Half a minute later, a boy came along and without any hesitation, started to cross the lawn to the house. The two boys jumped out of their hiding place. “Where do you think you’re going?” demanded Paul.
William jumped and went pale. Seeing, however, who his assailants were, he gritted his teeth and barked, “Say, what do you think you’re doing, scaring people?”
The two boys smiled. Jack said, “Now don’t get too fresh or we’ll pummel you. Where are you going?”
William made believe he was still angry. “Follow me and you’ll find out.”
“And what’s that little package you have there?” asked Paul.
“Wouldn’t you like to know, though?” was the retort.
“A nickel to a penny it’s a box of candy,” said Jack.
But William was not to be bluffed. “Seems to me,” he remarked dryly, “that you fellows are not carrying flowers in your packages.”
He had guessed right, and the three of them joined in laughing heartily. But just then another boy came up to them. He had approached quietly and had been a witness to the previous scene. “Well, well,” exclaimed Wallace, “are you fellows holding a meeting here tonight or are you just congregating here to be a nuisance? Answer yes or no and don’t be flippant about it either.”
The three boys stared at the new arrival. Jack cried in irritation, “This has gone about far enough. Arline told me that she was inviting only me tonight. What are you guys doing here?”
Wallace held up his package majestically. “Now, Jack, don’t get excited.” He poked a finger at his friend. “She told me the same thing,” he assured the doubter.
“Same here,” echoed Paul.
“And me, too,” added William.
“And who else?” demanded Jack.
The boys shrugged their shoulders and shook their heads. But they were not to be mystified much longer. Just then, Bobolink marched up. He saw the boys but it didn’t ruffle him in the least. He nodded to them and said, “Hello, fellows. Sorry I can’t stop to chew the rag awhile, but I have an important engagement.”
“Is that so?” exclaimed William. Grabbing Bobolink by the arm, he held on to him and informed the last arrival, “So have we all. Just stick around.”
Bobolink shrugged his shoulders. “Well,” he said, “if I must, I must.”
In due time, Bluff and Nuthin’ arrived and joined the crowd. Only Ken was missing. They decided to wait for him because they had no doubt he would also turn up. However, a few of the boys became a little impatient and they decided to ring the bell. Several seconds elapsed and then the door opened and beautiful Arline Blair came marching out to the boys on Ken’s arm. The boys were startled, then they began to hurl all sorts of flippant and good-natured epithets at him. Two of the boys even started to pummel him in fun. Suddenly a command rang out “Fall in!”
The boys fell into formation. Paul approached Arline, saluted her and said, “Miss Blair, Fox Patrol bids you good evening.”
The young lady made a bow. “Good evening, boys,” she replied sweetly.
“And the boys furthermore ask leave to present you with tokens of their affection.”
Paul gave her his box of chocolates. Then each, on down the line, presented her with his gift. When all that was done, Paul sang out his commands. “Attention! Forward, march!”
As the boys marched forward to go into the house, Paul took Arline by the arm and led her away in the opposite direction. When the boys realized it, they broke formation and ran after him. “Hey, you, come here,” cried William.
Arline tilted back her head and laughed merrily. “I’ve never had so much fun in all my life,” she said.
“Yes,” complained Jack, “but where’s our fun?”
“We are coming to that,” she told him. “I wanted to surprise you all.”
“You certainly did,” William ventured to say.
“And,” continued the young lady, “if you’ll come in, you’ll find everything prepared for a most enjoyable party.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” asked Nuthin’.
“For no reason that I know of,” replied Arline. “Let’s go in. The girls—”
“The girls!” exclaimed each boy separately.
“You didn’t think that I was going to entertain all you boys by myself, did you?”
“No, but—”
“So I invited my friends to help me. Let’s go in, now.”
They all entered and in spite of the complications of the half hour before, they had a most enjoyable evening.
CHAPTER XVI
Swimming Contest
For the following two days, the boys practiced swimming assiduously. They spent most of their hours at the lake and perfected their strokes, their form, diving, turning, etc. They were in tip top shape and were confident of the results. Saturday morning all the boys turned out to help fix up a float, repair the diving board, lay out lanes and make everything ready for the contest at one-thirty.
Three people consented to act as judges. Swimming coach Thompson and Assistant swimming coach Grey of Stanhope High School and a man named White, who was at one time a national swimming champion.
The events that had been agreed upon were the hundred yard dash in which Paul and Nuthin’ were to participate; the two-twenty yard dash in which Ken and Bluff had been entered; the hundred and sixty yard relay, with William, Wallace, Bobolink and Jack as the team; and finally a fancy diving match, with Bobolink as his group’s representative.
A large crowd turned out to watch the spectacle. The members of the competing teams mixed together and poked fun at each other, quibbled over many nothings and thus forgot all their anxiety about the forthcoming contest. The judges were ready and everything was set when suddenly an airplane dropped out of the sky. People pointed, waved and shouted. Attached to the rear end of the plane was a floating banner. Jack nudged Wallace and asked, “Who do you think is in the plane? Can you guess?”
“A turkey to a doughnut it’s Major McCarthy.”
Several of the boys standing nearby overheard and agreed. Jack said, “That’s most likely who it is. Can you read what’s on the banner?”
“Not yet. Wait till he comes down a little lower.”
The plane descended to an altitude of about five hundred feet. Everybody began to shout the words on the banner—“GOOD LUCK.” Ted, standing with Paul, asked, “Wonder whom he is wishing good luck?”
“Both teams, of course,” answered Paul.
“He’s a very fine chap—the major is.”
“You said it,” agreed Paul. “There are not many like him.”
After circling around overhead for a short while, the pilot waved and zoomed up into the sky. Several moments later the plane was performing a “barrel roll,” followed by a “loop the loop.” The spectators waved, cheered and screamed for more stunts. So the plane stunted some more; it dived down heading straight for the water, skimmed the surface of the lake and zoomed away up into the sky again and disappeared.
At last everything was ready for the contest to begin. The judges called for the first event, the hundred yard dash. Paul and Nuthin’ stepped forward. Ted Slavin’s group was to be represented by Ted and two other boys, Joe and Mac. Nuthin’ was placed in lane one, Mac in lane two, Ted in lane three, Paul, lane four and Joe, lane five. Coach Thompson looked the boys over, then called out, “You’re all ready?”
The boys nodded and said they were. Thompson raised his gun. “Ready!” he called.
The boys crouched, each in his lane. “Get set!”
There was silence everywhere. The boys brought back their arms ready to dive. But half a second before the pistol went off, Mac, anticipating the signal, dived. The boys relaxed and waited for Mac to come out of the water and take the start over.
“Ready!” called Thompson. Pause. “Get set!” Half a second later the gun went off and five young men, their arms stretched out in front of them, flung themselves through space, cut into the water and—they were off. Ted, tall and lanky, was out front, an inch or two in the lead. Their legs kicked rhythmically, their arms moved gracefully and with precision. They skimmed the water like fish.
The length of the pool was twenty yards and each man had to swim the pool five times. At the first turn, Ted and Nuthin’ were neck and neck. Both boys were encouraged and urged on by their comrades and friends. Paul was only an inch or two behind, followed very closely by Mac and Joe. That position was maintained throughout the second lap. In the third lap Paul and Mac started creeping up steadily on the leaders while Nuthin,’ shot out into the lead, with Ted only an inch behind. At the turn, a deep sigh went up from the spectators—Nuthin’ missed his hold and lost enough time in the turn to place him behind with Joe. It seemed that the race was now to be decided between Ted and Paul. Ted, however, seemed to manage quite well in keeping his lead and Paul didn’t seem as though he were gaining any. Nuthin’, though, was in the meanwhile, gaining with every stroke. At the turn he was neck and neck with Paul.
On shore, some people had set up a chant—“Nuthin’! Nuthin’! come on Nuthin’!” They kept up the chant until the very end of the race. And Nuthin’ seemed to be responding very well to their call. He was edging up closer and closer. He was straining every muscle in his body. His arms and feet were like a well oiled, well regulated machine. Within five yards to the goal Nuthin’ was neck and neck with Ted. The latter strained very hard to reach out further. Two yards from the edge of the pool and Nuthin’ had already crept into the lead. The judges were bending over, watching very closely for the first touch. The spectators held their breaths and watched. In an instant the race was over and the judges were rising to their feet. Somebody shouted, “Ted! Ted, the winner!”
Both judges shook their heads and pointed to Nuthin’. William, at the other end of the pool, screamed, “Nuthin’! Hooray for Nuthin’!”
Somebody nudged him and remarked, “Stop shouting for nothing; shout for something.”
William laughed and roared. “Nuthin’ is something and how!”
Nuthin’ lay stretched out, with Ted at his side. Breathing hard, Ted said, “That was a swell race. Never thought you were as good as that, boy.”
Paul, squatting nearby, remarked, “Creeping up on us the way he did and winning the dash—he’s certainly good.”
“You said it,” agreed Ted.
The two hundred and twenty yard dash was an all-around disappointment. Not that it didn’t have its thrills. On the contrary, it had too many thrills, surprises and shocks, so that the contestants participated in something that was more than a swimming contest and the spectators lost interest in the event itself. When the judges called for the participants to step forth, Ken and Bluff came out as representatives for their group. For the Ted Slavin team, two boys stepped forth, one by the name of Walt and the other Cy. The edge of the wooden dock was wet and therefore slippery. As the boys lined in their respective lanes, Walt somehow lost his balance and slipped; when he had picked himself up, he began to hop around painfully. He had twisted his ankle, and that forced him out of the race. His team had no other man to take his place and that left only three contestants in the race.
Coach Thompson finally called, “Get ready!” Pause, “Get set!” The shot went off and the boys dived. For three laps everything went along well. The boys glided through the water gracefully. Cy was setting the pace, with Ken following several inches behind and Bluff bringing up the rear. On their fourth lap, at about the center of the lane, Bluff suddenly went down like a rock. People began to scream and shout. Ken, becoming aware of the commotion on shore, stopped to hear what people were screaming to him. In the meanwhile, Nuthin’ and Ted who were sitting at the edge of the float and watching the race, both jumped into the lake. Nuthin’ dived first and half a minute later came up with Bluff. Assisted by Ted, the two boys pulled Bluff in. He had suddenly gotten cramps.
The race continued with only two contestants now; Cy was in the lead with Ken fully five yards behind. Ken tried to creep up on his competitor, but as he increased his pace, so did Cy. The boys kept up the grind back and forth, back and forth across the pool. At the end of the seventh lap, Ken had managed to regain about half the distance he had lost. And he continued to creep up by inches. As the boys were ending their tenth lap and were approaching for a turn, a little boy of about six or seven, who had somehow managed to get to the edge of the pool, leaned over a little too far and tumbled in. The child fell directly in front of Ken and before many people had realized what happened the swimmer had fished the boy out, handed him over to outstretched arms and continued with the race. But by now, Ken had fallen so far behind that even by his last sprint, he could do no better than end up a full seven yards behind Cy. The race was ended and few people were aware of it.
The next event was the diving, with Bobolink and Ted as the contestants. Both were fine divers and their form was almost perfect. Each one was obliged to perform the swan dive, the jackknife and a third dive of the contestant’s own choosing. After both boys had performed and had delighted the spectators, the judges conferred but were unable to come to a decision. The two boys were told to perform any one fancy dive they chose. Again both contestants performed so equally that the judges called the contest a draw.
It was the relay, however, that again raised the spectators’ enthusiasm to high pitch and set them jumping and howling madly; it had everyone on his toes following the contest closely.
William was the lead off man for his team. Coach Thompson called, “On your mark!” The two boys crouched. “Get set!” They brought their arms back. The gun went off and William and his competitor flung themselves through space, their arms stretched out. They cut into the water and set off in a fast sprint. Each contestant had two laps to go. They glided through the water, their arms and feet moving rhythmically. Both boys turned simultaneously and were neck and neck. People shouted and screamed themselves hoarse; their comrades shouted advice and encouragement. Gradually, William moved into the lead. As he touched, he gave Wallace, who followed him, a lead of about three inches.
The next pair were off. Wallace kept his small margin of a lead with his competitor sturdily refusing to concede another inch. Wallace, however, made a poor turn, and placed both boys nose to nose. It even looked as though the other fellow would gain the lead any second but Wallace fought it out and both boys touched simultaneously. The third pair dived and each contestant fought hard for the lead but neither Bobolink nor his competitor would yield. Stroke for stroke, they glided through the water gracefully and neither one would yield an inch. At the turn, it appeared for a second that Bobolink gained an inch or two on his competitor, but the next moment they were seen gliding along side by side, nose to nose. The spectators were frantic with excitement and they encouraged, urged and cajoued, each his favorite, to hurry up and get into the lead. The two contestants, however, touched simultaneously.
Jack was the last man. By the way he dived, flinging his body through space with a certain impatient fury, it seemed that he was going to fly across the pool. His competitor, however, was right there at his side and obstinate in his refusal to be shaken. Jack plowed through the water at breakneck speed. People wondered how the other hung on and didn’t yield an inch. The spectators were going wild with enthusiasm; some of them became hysterical. A babble of voices urged both boys to get ahead, take the lead. But neither one seemed able to shake the other fellow. At the turn, however, Jack who was very flexible and fast, manoeuvered the touch and push off so quickly that he got away with a lead of several inches. The other fellow saw himself losing out and sprinted after Jack fast and furious. But the latter would not yield and steadily he kept his lead, making the final touch a full five seconds ahead of his competitor.