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Some people have guessed that some kind of an atmospheric phenomenon can form a "wall of air" ahead of an airplane that will act as a mirror and that lights seen at night by pilots are nothing more than the reflection of the airplane's own lights. This could be true in some cases, but to have a reflection you must have a light to reflect.

Temple, approvingly. "Now, Jack, that the mystery of the airplane's disappearance has been cleared up, we are ready to leave at once. We can get out of New York City on the 6 o'clock train tonight. Look for us Friday. I'll say good-bye until then, and let the boys speak to you, for I know they are dying to do so." While the boys and Jack conversed, Mr. Temple sought out his wife.

More to accommodate them than because he expected to accomplish anything, the publisher half-heartedly braced himself in a crouching position and pushed upward on the airplane's front. To his amazement the whole forward part of the machine rose upward a foot in the air, as if it were made of paper. "My word!" exclaimed Mr. Giddings, letting the craft back upon its wheels.

Some people said "Weather targets," but the chances of a weather target's making a 180-degree turn just as an airplane turns into it, giving a radar lock-on, then changing speed to stay just out of range of the airplane's radar, and then slowing down when the airplane leaves is as close to nil as you can get. What was it?

They knew what that would mean. It would mean that the great creature would either operate the airplane's rudders when they should not be operated, or would prevent Tom from moving them when they must be moved. In either event, the result would be disaster to machine and crew. "Good heavens, boys!" said Tom, so nervous his voice shook, "get rid of that snake as quick as you can!"

How did Captain Britten happen to be carrying a quart of gasoline in his satchel?" asked the eccentric gentleman after he had been told of the airplane's narrow escape. "I thought it strange myself," said Tom, "but he claimed he always carries some with him to remove grease spots from his clothes." "Ha! He must be quite a character.

"We'll put our hands up to our eyes and pretend to be watching the sky for the airplane's flight. It would be natural for us to want to get beyond the light of these torches, if we were trying to follow the boys with our eyes." "That's the ticket," said Stone, and the two put Frank's plan into execution. Beyond the light cast by the torches they paused. Darkness had descended now, in truth.

It was a real joy to be looking through the glass panels of the airplane's cabin once more, to hear the muffled roar of her engine and propeller, and to realize that probably before dark they would be across the five hundred miles of blue waters of the Caribbean and hovering over the world-famous Canal Zone. It was a fine morning.

The Scotchman had signed his name to the document certifying to the stop of the flyers at Kuka, the paper on which they were to secure certifications at every scheduled airport, and they were just in the act of starting over to the field tank to get some water for the airplane's radiators, when, without a moment's warning a hair-raising chorus of yells broke out on the brooding night air, and scores of savage-looking figures sprang from the shadows of the buildings into the open field.

Even though the pilot could see the light and hear the ground controller telling him that he was above it, and alternately gaining on it or dropping back, he still couldn't believe it there must be a simple explanation. He turned off all of his lights it wasn't a reflection from any of the airplane's lights because there it was. A reflection from a ground light, maybe.