Chapter 21 Tom Swift and His Airline Express by Victor Appleton
THE GOLDEN GATE
Caught in the very center of a fierce mountain storm, the Osprey was now battling her way above the jagged and towering peaks of the Rockies, fighting for every inch in an endeavor to reach San Francisco within the stipulated time. Though by the clock there were several hours of daylight still remaining, it was so dark and gloomy in the stormy mountain region that it seemed as if night had fallen.
“But we may pull out of it yet!” cried Tom to his friends, as he saw to it that all the openings of the traveling car were tightly closed. For once the air, under high pressure because of the velocity of the wind, gained an entrance, it might do serious damage. But Tom had foreseen that they might run into storms, and had so built his car that a few pulls on certain levers would close everything save the protected ventilators.
Through these fresh air came in and the foul air was expelled, but rain could not enter. It was different in the aeroplane above the car, however. There the mechanician and his assistant were pretty much in the open, though there was a cowl of heavy celluloid to protect their faces and Tom had rigged up an extra hood to keep off some of the rain and snow that might be encountered on the trip. But from the very nature of their calling, aeroplane pilots must fly with much of their bodies exposed to the elements.
When they expect to go to great heights and encounter cold of such intensity that it is hard to conceive of it, they wear suits in which are woven wires of high resistance. A low voltage electric current, passing through these wires, warms them, just as is done in some of the warming pads used in bed by invalids. In this way the blood of the daring aviators is kept circulating.
But as Tom did not expect to go very high on his airline express trips, there was no need of these electrically heated suits, and none had been taken along. However, he had taken into consideration that they might run into rain, and rubber coats had been provided.
“I’ll go up and relieve Ted Dolan,” remarked Tom to Ned, for the third crew of pilots had been taken on at Denver to make the final hop to the Pacific coast. Dolan was an experienced airman and had for his helper Art Wright. But they had not taken their rubber coats up in the cockpit with them, for when they left Denver the weather was all that could be desired.
“I’ll go with you,” offered Ned. “I’d like to see just how bad this storm is.”
“It’s a humdinger all right,” declared Tom, as he glanced out of an observation window while waiting for Eradicate to bring the storm garments from a locker.
“Bless my nose-guard, I’ll say it is!” chimed in Mr. Damon. “I never saw a worse one.”
“Oh, we’ve been in just as severe ones before,” observed Tom, in what seemed a cool voice. “When we were trying out the flying boat I remember a storm when I thought we never would get through it. This is bad enough, but the Osprey can buck it I think.”
“Ah knows Massa Tom gwine to pull us through all right,” said Eradicate, with a glance at Koku. “Ah isn’t scairt, no how!”
“Huh! Black man talk big—but him knees shake all same,” sneered the giant.
“Whose knees am shakin’, big man? Whose knees am shakin’?” demanded the colored servant, as he strode toward the big fellow. It seemed as if he might try to punch Koku.
“That will do,” commanded Tom in a low voice. He had troubles enough on hand without a fight starting between his two helpers.
A signal was given for Wright to descend to the cabin, and when he came down Tom went up through the enclosed ladder.
“Is it bad up there?” he asked his workman.
“Bad?” was the reply. “Say, you ought to feel it!” He was wet through—as dripping as though he had fallen into a tub of water.
When Tom took charge of the cockpit Dolan descended, glad enough to get out of the way of the stinging pellets of rain, driven by the hurricane wind. He, too, was soaked. Ned followed his chum up into the cockpit, and, though they were protected by goggles, helmets of leather, and rubber coats, they felt the force of the storm.
What with the roaring of the motors, the howl of the wind, the crash of thunder, and the rattle of the rain, it was impossible for the two to communicate, even though they had speaking tubes running from the forward cockpit to the one built aft.
The young inventor, who had taken personal charge of piloting the big plane through the storm, that it might arrive on time, soon realized that he had his “work cut out for him,” as he said later. While it is not at all unusual for aeroplanes of even less power than the big ones Tom used to fly through storms, still there is always the element of danger.
But Tom’s Osprey had one advantage. Because of the heavy car slung below it, the center of gravity was thus made much lower than usual, and this served to keep the craft steady.
Tom glanced at the oil gage, at the gasoline indicator, and at the needle of the dial which showed their height above the ground. He had noted the tips of several jagged peaks below as they flew over them, and he realized that while they might be up sufficiently high in flying over level ground, they were not when traversing the Rocky Mountains.
“A little drop and we’ll scrape some of those stone teeth,” thought Tom. “I’m going up a bit.”
He was in much more comfortable circumstances than had been the two men whom he and Ned relieved, for the storm garments protected him and his chum. Consequently Tom could give more undivided attention to managing the craft. His first act was to increase the speed of the motor and tilt the elevating rudder to send them higher.
“He’s going to try to rise above the storm,” decided Ned, though this was not actually Tom’s idea. He merely wanted to be a little farther above those towering mountain peaks.
The Osprey responded well, and soon they had lost sight of the jagged “teeth,” as Tom called them. But the storm was not to be cheated in this way, and still raged around them.
“Why doesn’t he go higher?” thought Ned. “He’s often flown at a greater elevation than this and in bigger machines. Once he’s above the clouds he’ll be out of the storm and into sunshine,” for the sun was still above the horizon, though invisible to the travelers on account of the masses of storm vapor.
However, Tom did not want to take too many chances. He felt that his craft was doing quite well as it was, forging ahead, though at some loss of speed, and if he could keep her there he would make the journey safely, though he began to figure now on losing an hour or two from his schedule of sixteen.
For a time the storm seemed to abate a little, and they were congratulating themselves that they had ridden through it, when, all at once, it burst over them with redoubled fury. So powerful was the wind that once or twice the Osprey seemed actually to stand still.
Of course that might not really have been the case. Wind seldom obtains a velocity of more than a hundred miles an hour, even in the worst storms, and Tom’s craft was keyed up now to do at least two hundred miles, which was double that of the wind. But it may well have been that her speed was cut down by half, and from what developed afterward Tom was inclined to think this was the case.
But with a fierceness of spirit that equaled the fierceness of the storm, Tom drove his machine on. He was determined to finish this first trip at least pretty nearly on schedule. It would mean a wonderful amount of prestige for him if he could, and almost insure the success of the undertaking.
Though at one time, during a terrific outburst of wind, lightning, and rain, it seemed as if they would be utterly overwhelmed, Tom was skillful, and brought the Osprey around and straightened her out of a dangerous side slip.
Then, almost as suddenly as the storm had begun, it stopped. The machine slid out of the region of wild disturbance into daylight. Ned, peering past Tom, looked ahead. He saw something that caused him to cry:
“The Golden Gate!”
“Yes,” shouted back Tom, “that’s San Francisco just ahead of us. But we’ve lost about two hours!”