Bob wiggled them around. "They seem all right," he said.

"All right, hop in," Pat told him.

Bob climbed into the rear c.o.c.kpit, no less thrilled by his second flight that day than he had been by his first. He waved his hand to the Captain and Hal who were watching them. Pat climbed into the front c.o.c.kpit.

"Ready?" he called.

"O. K!" shouted Bob.

Pat started the motor, which was a self-starter. The plane taxied gently across the field, and Pat turned her nose into the wind. Bob felt her lift from the earth; there was a b.u.mp-they hadn't quite cleared; Pat speeded up, until Bob, looking over the side of the c.o.c.kpit, could see the ground slipping by dizzily. Then the b.u.mping stopped; they had left the ground. This time they did not again b.u.mp; the Marianne soared into the air.

Bob could feel the blast of air against his face, and he was glad his goggles fitted well. The motor roared, the wind screamed. Bob tried to shout, but could not hear himself uttering a sound. He looked down. The airport looked as it had from the other plane. Now he had more of the feeling of flying. There was a sudden b.u.mp. The Marianne dropped suddenly. Bob felt as though he were in an elevator that had descended very suddenly-there was the same pit-of-the-stomach feeling. Air b.u.mp, he thought, and it was. He looked over the side again, and could see nothing. They were traveling pretty high.

Then suddenly the roar of the motor stopped, and they began to descend at what Bob felt must be an almost unbelievable speed. At first Bob was frightened, but then realized that they were gliding down. Every now and then Pat turned on his engine again. Bob, looking over the side, could see the fields coming up to meet them. They landed so gently that he hardly felt the jolt of the wheels touching the ground.

How funny to stand on the stable ground once more! The sound of the motor was still roaring in Bob's ears. He pulled off the goggles and helmet. "It was marvelous!" he shouted loudly to his friends.

"We can hear you," said the Captain. "You needn't shout!"

"Was I shouting?" laughed Bob.

"You are," said the Captain.

But Pat had turned to Hal. "Well, lad, you're next."

But Hal said what he had been rehearsing for many minutes, in fact, ever since Bob had taken to the air. "Don't you think it's rather late? We haven't had any lunch. Maybe we could go up again after lunch."

Captain Bill, who knew the struggle that was going on in Hal's heart, and who was getting hungry anyway, said, "Lunch. That's the idea. We've got a great picnic lunch, Pat."

"Lead me to it," said Pat.

"Knew that would get you," laughed the Captain.

They left the plane in charge of a mechanic, who was to look after it, and went over to the automobile that the Captain had parked. They decided, on Bob's suggestion, to eat on a gra.s.sy slope from which they could see the airport.

"I've got an idea," said the Captain. "You can start your story about Lindbergh."

"I'm ready," said Bob, "if you're ready to listen. I think I know the story backwards and forward."

"Begin at the beginning, always," the Captain warned.

They reached the spot where they had chosen to picnic, and settled back contentedly in the long gra.s.s to hear part of Bob's story before lunch.

CHAPTER V-The Eagle

"Well," began Bob, "I guess my story isn't going to be very new to any of you. Gee, I know it almost by heart, and I suppose everybody else does, too."

"Don't apologize," said the Captain. "We'll be only too glad to stop you if we've heard it before. I don't think that we will, though. It's a story that bears repeating."

Bob's eyes lighted up. "You bet," he said. "I never get tired of reading about it." He plucked at the gra.s.s beside him. "Gee, it makes a fellow want to do things. It makes him feel that the older folks don't know everything-"

"A-hem," interrupted Captain Bill.

Bob laughed. "You're not old folks, old bean. Don't flatter yourself.

Anyway, they told Lindbergh that he couldn't do it. They told him that his plane was carrying too much, and he'd never be able to make it alone."

"Did he?" said Pat.

Bob looked at him disgustedly. "Did he! Don't make fun of me, you old Irishman!"

The old Irishman looked grieved. "Well, I just wanted to know. I'm always willing to learn somethin' new. And you'd better get started, or we'll never know. We'll be leaving the lad up in the air, so to speak."

"Ignore that ape," said Captain Bill, "and proceed."

"Lindbergh didn't listen to them. He just went ahead and did what he thought was right, and by golly, he was right. It makes a fellow feel that even if he is young he can do things. He doesn't just have to sit around and do what everybody else has done before. There's got to be a first every time. Lindy wasn't afraid just because n.o.body had ever flown the Atlantic alone before, and the wiseacres said that it couldn't be done. He just went ahead and flew it."

"It wasn't as easy as all that," quietly remarked Hal.

Bob turned to him. "Of course not. Lindy had planned every move that he was going to make. He was prepared for anything. That's why he's always so successful. He has his plans all laid before he ever takes off. He's got all the courage in the world, but he's not reckless."

"Put that under your hat, my lad. It's a good lesson to know by heart when you're going into the flying game."

"You bet," said Bob. "Gee, it needed a lot of courage for him to make that take-off. I've got the date down here. It was May 20, 1927, on a Friday. That must have been an exciting morning down at Roosevelt Field.

He made up his mind on Thursday afternoon. They told him that the weather was all right over the North Atlantic, and that it would be best if he started out the next morning.

"He didn't tell anybody about his plans. He never talks very much anyway. Everybody found that out later. It was all sort of secret. He just told his mechanics to get the Spirit of St. Louis ready, and keep their mouths shut. I guess he didn't want everybody messing around with his plans. But the men who delivered his gasoline weren't so secret, I guess, and somehow his plans leaked out Thursday night.

"That Thursday night was pretty awful. It was raining, and the weather could be cut with a knife. But once people found out that Slim was going to start, they began to come around to Curtiss Field, and at two o'clock in the morning there was a big crowd of them standing around in the rain and mud. Slim wasn't leaving from Curtiss, though, and they towed his plane by truck over to Roosevelt. They got there just about when it was getting light.

"There was a crowd over at Curtiss, too. But Slim didn't care. Crowds never mean much to him. He saw a whole lot more of them later on, too, but he never was one to strut or show off. He just got into his fur-lined suit, and waited for the men to start his engine. Somebody asked him if he had only five sandwiches and two canteens of water.

'Sure,' he said. 'If I get to Paris, I won't need any more, and if I don't get there, I won't need any more, either.' It was just like him to say that, but the real reason he didn't take any more was because he had too much weight already. He had over 200 gallons of gas, and the load was heavy. He had to cut down on everything that wasn't absolutely necessary.

"Well, they started his motor for him. The plane was standing on the Roosevelt runway, which is pretty smooth, and five thousand feet long.

The weather had cleared up a little. And there was the monoplane looking all silver and slick, roaring away for all it was worth. Lindy said goodbye to his mother, and to Byrd and Chamberlin and Acosta, who were planning their own trips across the Atlantic, and then he stepped into the c.o.c.kpit, and closed the door.

"He raced his motor a little bit. She must have sounded pretty sweet to him, because he gave her the gun, and off he went. That start must have been one of the hardest parts of the whole trip. The Spirit of St. Louis b.u.mped along that muddy runway, and the people watching thought she'd go over on her nose any moment. She was over-loaded. Her motor was pulling for all she was worth, but it didn't seem as though they'd ever make it.

She went off the ground a few feet, and bounced down again. But then the crowd held its breath. She was leaving the ground. They were up about fifteen feet. And there were telegraph wires in their path. If they hit those, the trip to Paris was over right then. But they didn't. The landing gear cleared by a few inches. That crowd simply roared. But Slim didn't hear them. He was on his way to Paris."

Bob paused for breath. He had been talking very fast, carried away by his story. The others did not speak, but sat waiting for him to go on.

They had all heard the story before, but as the Captain had said, it bore repeating, and they could hear it again and again. There was something agelessly appealing in the tale of that young man's feat.

Bob was talking again. "I'm not much at poetry," he said.

"You bet you're not," said Captain Bill. "I've read some of yours."