“I’m leavin’ everything to your judgment,” Weber asserted.
“Then we’ll take the short cut,” Jimmy decided. “Let’s get going.”
Leaving Sacramento, they headed eastward and began to climb. Almost immediately they were over the rolling, grass-covered foothills. Then they came to the scrub oak country. The rolling hills became steeper. White water appeared in the streams under them. Mine stipples showed above the roofs of the small mining settlements as they entered the famous Mother Lode country.
Jimmy put the Calico Peacock into as stiff a climbing angle as he dared and opened the throttle wide. As they neared the summit the engine began to heat again. It was too late to turn back. They were out of reach of any emergency landing field.
The tree tops began to approach nearer and nearer as the Calico Peacock came closer to the ceiling it could attain with its pounding, smoking engine.
They were not more than fifteen feet above the tree tops when they shot over the ridge at the summit and looked down over the eastern slopes of the mountains. The smell of hot oil and burning metal made Jimmy clamp his teeth shut grimly, as he eased the nose of the Calico Peacock down toward the horizon and took some of the load off the engine.
Weber pointed out a low depression in the hills off to the southeast and motioned for Jimmy to head the ship in that direction.
For a while Jimmy thought they were going to make it. The engine began to cool off somewhat as they picked up speed and descended to a lower altitude. They were within sight of a saucer-shaped depression in the hills which Weber yelled back was Keno, when the thing happened which Jimmy had been fearing.
A connecting rod bearing burned out. Instantly the engine began to pound. The din was terrific. There was only one thing to do. Jimmy closed the throttle, cut off his ignition, nosed the ship over, and commenced to pick out a spot to land.