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Updated: May 23, 2025
Admittedly feeling better, Tom turned to the master switch and found it missing. For a second panic seized him, until he remembered that Major Connel had hidden it. He felt under the pilot's chair and breathed easier, pulling out the vital instrument. "Better get into acceleration chairs," said Tom, strapping himself into his seat. "This might be a rough take-off."
They had come upon the Drifter at a point where the ravine spread out and a long level space showed. "Now then, brisk is the word," spoke the elder Dawson. He and his son carried the bundle up to the Drifter and managed to stow it aboard. Jerry climbed into the pilot's seat. His father drew some stout double cord from his pocket. "Tie up those boys hand and foot," he ordered grimly.
While he had known that the two were of The Sky Pilot's band he had not been sure of the identity of either; but now it was borne in upon him that at least one of them was the last person on earth he cared to be cooped up in a small, unlighted room with, and a moment later when one of the two rolled a 'smoke' and lighted it he saw in the flare of the flame the features of both Dopey Charlie and The General.
At his return, he told us he believed them to be Calmuc Tartars; and that there were more upon the desert. This was but a small comfort to us; yet seeing a little grove, about a quarter of a mile's distance, we moved to it, by the old Portuguese pilot's advice, without meeting with any opposition.
He swaggered across the room that had a moment ago awed him to the point of wanting to walk on his toes. Of course he was an aviator! Hadn't he been flying in his own plane? What more did it take, for gosh sake? A pilot's license was a mere detail, alongside the night he had made that day. He should say he was an aviator! The 'phone tinkled. A man from the Times wanted to talk with him, it seemed.
Again the Harris party was on deck, final words hastily written were in the steamer's mail bag, and a sailor stood ready to pass it over the ship's side to the pilot's little boat, waiting for orders to cut loose from the "Majestic." The engines slacked their speed, the pilot bade the officers good-bye, and accompanied the mail bag to his trusted schooner.
My cadet officer had to help me into the control pilot's seat." Tom managed a fleeting smile. "Now, Corbett" Strong's voice became businesslike "as you know, these manual tests are the last tests before actually blasting off. In the past weeks, you cadets have been subjected to every possible examination, to discover any flaw in your work that might later crop up in space.
Otley improvised a tourniquet, passed it to Dunning, and, when the latter had bandaged himself, changed from the observer's to the pilot's seat, plugged the bullet hole in the tank with his thumb and steered the machine home.
Tom and Astro immediately jumped toward the open hatch and started scrambling down the ladder toward their respective stations while Roger strapped himself into his chair in front of the astrogation panel. Within sixty seconds the ship was ready for landing procedure and at a nod from Captain Strong, who again strapped himself into the second pilot's chair, Tom began the delicate operation.
Hank called out from his post at the Sea Hound's controls. "Not a ping, Hank. The system seems to be working out even better than I'd hoped." Tom felt a glow of satisfaction. He explained, however, that the jetmarine's transparent nose pane which had to be left unprotected for the pilot's visibility offered one vulnerable spot to sonar detection.
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