He himself was dying to undertake the flight, but he knew the depth of affection between his two comrades, and not for worlds would he have deprived Frank of the chance to rescue Bob. Frank, who had remained silent, regarded his chum gratefully and reaching out squeezed his hand hard.
“All right,” said Stone. “Frank it is. We can take only three, because we need the fourth seat for Bob coming back. And now,” he added, rising, “let’s go down to the old buss and tune her up, give her a good overhauling, and run her around a little with you at the stick, Frank, so you learn her tricks.”
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE FLIERS WARN KORAKUM.
After a hectic morning, all was ready for the take-off as one-thirty o’clock approached. Right up to the last minute, Frank was kept by Stone at practising landing and taking-off within a limited space for, although the description given by the young revolutionists of the tremendous size of the arena promised sufficient space for the delicate work of alighting and re-ascending, yet Frank must be perfect. Otherwise, if the plane smashed, the expedition would be wrecked. Once inside of Athensi and the Coliseum, the only way to escape would be by means of the plane.
Understanding full well the responsibility resting upon him, Frank concentrated on the task in hand. An expert aviator with four years of flying to his credit, he won the approval of Roy Stone as he managed the plane in masterly fashion and as his landings and ascents approached perfection. Finally, when twice in succession he had landed and re-ascended within an oval traced on the desert sand which all the Athensians, who could not recall the exact measurements of the arena, declared according to the best of their recollection was even smaller than that of the Coliseum, Stone ordered him to cease his efforts and rest for an hour.
At the end of that period, sharp at one-thirty, the take-off was made.
What a cheering and hullabaloo there was as, with Frank at the stick, and Stone and Amrath riding as passengers, the start of the flight was made. Brilliant sunlight flooded the desert and, gathered in a group a bit out from the Great Mountain Wall, revolutionists, Arabs and Jack and Mr. Hampton waved farewells and called Godspeeds to the expedition.
Amrath occupied the seat beside Frank, for his was the task of piloting the flight. Stone, sitting in the rear pit from which had been removed the drums of gasoline which formed his surplus fuel supply, in order to make room for Bob on the return trip, had his gas bombs nicely adjusted. A grim smile crossed his features as he regarded them. Let one of those bombs light on the stone platform of the Janissaries in the middle of the arena, and those gentlemen would give no trouble to anybody for quite some time.
Jack and Frank had clasped hands just before the latter clambered to his seat, and the look in his eyes told better than words could have done the gratitude he felt because his chum had stepped aside unselfishly and given him the opportunity to fly the plane.
A running start out over the desert, away from the Great Mountain Wall, a spurning of the sand, a turn in the air, and then higher and higher mounted Frank seeking altitude. Those watching from the sands saw the plane grow smaller and smaller until it seemed to their sun-dazzled eyes only a mote dancing in the sun. Then away toward the Great Mountain Wall headed Frank, crossed its serrated summit and disappeared.