Adventure Magazine Cover — page 168: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

162 clearing was on the eastern slope, including the top and perhaps twenty yards of the western slope. There did not appear to be ten yards of level earth—the mountain literally came to a blunt point. Graves slowly inserted his glasses in his case, and then turned to the flyers. He nodded briefly, and pointed down. Jim retarded the spark on the left hand motor, and motioned Hinkley to turn off the gas line. To do more good, he changed the altitude adjustment completely. The object of all this was to lean down the gas mixture in the carburetor. Shortly, as the gas had practically run out the motor began to pop. back with loud reports. Hinkley turned the gas on again, and then Broughton began to click the switches on and off rapidly. It sounded as though there was a badly missing motor out there on the left wing. He motioned Hinkley to follow his lead, in order to give himself a good opportunity to size up the landing situation. He was spiraling down slowly, with Hinkley seeing to it that the left motor was cutting out almost completely. LO THE long way of the clearing was eas uphill. The lower Broughton came, the steeper it looked. It appeared to be perhaps two hundred yards long, narrowing to nearly a point at the peak. The best way to crack up would undoubted- ly be to run up the hill, over the top, and ram the trees with what little speed was left. There would undoubtedly be stumps or ditches which would crack them up before that, but the trees made it a sure thing. A few men could be seen now, standing around the cabin. Graves studied them carefully, his glasses out once more. Broughton and Hinkley were inspecting that clearing, with no time for humans. Jim handled his great ship in that slow spiral automatically, jockeying the wheel incessantly as the air currents became worse. Six hundred feet above the mountain top, he came to a decision. He could land with- out cracking; up. Hinkley worked the switches more rapid- ly, and Jim helped out by rapid thrusts for- ward and back with both throttle and spark levers. Popping, spitting, missmg—no one who had ever heard a motor could believe that the ungodly racket meant anything but a badly disabled engine. z Adventure Broughton spun the wheel rapidly, and turned westward, curving around until he was headed for the lower corner of the clearing. His line of flight would carry him diagonally from this corner to a point a few feet below the peak. He stalled the Martin as completely as possible. The air-speed meter showed sixty- five miles an hour. The great weight of the ship caused it to drop almost as fast as it glided forward. The rim of trees formed a barrier nearly sixty feet high. The tail-skid ripped through them. Jim fought the ship with one hand while he turned both throttles full on for a moment to stop that mush down- ward which was the result of lack of speed. As he pulled them back Hinkley cut all four switches. Then Jim banked to the right, so that his wheels would hit the ground together. He judged it rightly. For a second he thought the ship was going to turn over on the right, or downhill wing. It seemed to hover on the verge of it. The pilot snapped on the right-motor switches and the propeller, turning from the force of the air-stream, caught. The motor sprang into life as Jim thrust the throttle full on. It swung the right wing in time, and he cut it as the ship’s nose was turned up hill, both wheels on the same level.. His observation as to the smoothness of the clearing had been correct. The slightest depression—even a rut—would have over- turned the ship. Before any one could say anything Jim felt the ship settle backward. It took a thousand revolutions on the right hand motor to stop it, but the propeller bit the air in time to prevent the tail-skid breaking. “Work the left-hand switches while I taxi up!”’ yelled Jim into the pleased Hink- ley’s ear. Graves, his face white but his smile firm, settled back in his seat as Jim pressed the starter on the left hand motor. It caught. Several men came running over the brow of the hill as Jim turned up the left hand motor to equal the right. The thousand revolutions on the right hand motor had not been sufficient to move and thus swing the ship, but just enough to hold it steady. It started slowly. As soon as it had a little momentum Hinkley cut the’ switches, and at the same time Jim jerked the throttle back. A loud report, and a brief miss was the reward of their efforts. Graves looked CORNICLOOO® SS (C@)