In the tiger's lair

by Leo E. Miller

“How about a test flight to-morrow? And then an attempt to reach the hidden place a few days later?”

“The very thing. Have a first trial flight to-morrow and then spend a few days making adjustments while we also make our other preparations. After that the dash for the mountains. But we may have to alter our plans greatly. With the opposition and competition we have now it will not be possible to make an unlimited number of flights. We might succeed in going once or twice without trouble, but if we went too often and remained away for long periods of time they would become suspicious and either stop us or try to follow to see what we were doing.”

“I have a scheme we could try. Why not take a load of equipment on the first trip and cache it in one of the caves; then open up the underground river and take out as much gold as we want that way. If we have to discontinue flying before we bring out very much in the plane we can go back by the overland route and pick up what we have hidden in the forest. That will save a lot of time and trouble.”

“We could not improve on that if we tried,” Stanley agreed enthusiastically. “While I do the final tinkering on the machine you can be gathering the things together. Bring them to our hangar, load them at night, and we can hop away early the next morning.”

Somehow the news had spread that there was to be a trial flight on the following day, and a huge crowd, composed mostly of Indians, gathered on the outskirts of the field at daybreak. It was not until shortly after noon, however, that everything was in readiness for the initial attempt. The two donned their leather coats, helmets, and goggles, and climbed into the cockpits. At a signal from Stanley the crew removed the wooden blocks from under the wheels and swung the ship around into the wind. Stanley gradually opened the throttle, and as the roar of the engine increased in volume the machine gathered speed and raced over the even ground. In a moment it had left the earth and was soaring upward at an appreciable angle. The crowd of onlookers waved their hats and burst into a wild cheer, and Ted, who was standing in the rear pit, leaned over the rim and waved his hand toward the ground as they sped into the distance.

Stanley carefully watched the braces, struts, and wings, but as there was no unusual vibration, he tried a number of turns, banking gently, dived and zoomed, and in other ways tested the craft. Its stability and balance were to his entire satisfaction. Then they ascended to a height of five thousand feet and performed a series of stunts that even the birds would not dare attempt. They side-slipped, dived, and spiralled, did wing-overs, and ended in a series of loops. After that they descended to the field in a long tail-spin, levelling off just in time to land easily and gracefully in front of their hangar.

The colonel was most enthusiastic and congratulated them heartily, but the two lieutenants kept in the background and offered no comments.

“There are only a few wires to tighten a little,” Stanley informed the commanding officer. “They are always liable to slacken somewhat during the first flights. The fuselage is lined up perfectly. If the colonel so desires, we shall be glad to make a long cross-country flight next Sunday. That could serve as a final test, after which the ship would be ready to go into commission for the regular work of training cadets.”

“Splendid!” the colonel replied. “Go anywhere you like. Give the machine a most thorough trial. The instructors and pupils are waiting impatiently for their turn.”

Two days later, as they were going over the ship for a final inspection, Stanley suddenly noticed that the keys had been removed from the pins that fastened the right upper wing to the body. With a slight motion of his hand he indicated the fact to Ted.