“Like a cat with the belly-ache,” suggested Charlie.
“Inelegant, but apt. Let’s see, there are one, two . . . five of them!”
“Some packet!”
“Some packet is right. I’d pay admission to see this any day.”
The reason for this excited dialogue had been, first, the raising of that section of the deck between the two great wing sections until from wing-tip to wing-tip, one continuous horizontal plane was formed. Next, up through what was probably a hatch in this center wing section, though of course invisible at that distance from the lads, appeared an airplane motor. This rose on its own engine struts, slid to starboard along the wing and came to rest. Another made its appearance and moved to starboard in line with the first. The next two found places on the port wing, and the last engine remained directly above the hatch which probably closed with a sliding cover. Then the mechanics came topside, through another hatchway, bearing propellers which were fitted to the engines, fore and aft.
“That’s the first time I’ve ever seen two propellers on the same engine!” cried Charlie. “What’s the reason for it, Bill?”
Bill turned round in his seat. “Each one of those engines, as you call them, Charlie, is a double unit. In other words, two motors joined together, one forward and one aft. There are ten propellers, because there are ten motors in that line. The propellers forward are tractors, those aft pushers. The Dornier, the big German DO-X passenger plane, has the same arrangement of motors.”
“Guess they must generate a heap of power?”
“Plenty. But you need it to propel a heavy ship like that sub. By the way, do you happen to know what they call her?”
“The Flying Fish—one of the gobs told me.”