“And when,” replied Bill with a grin, “you want to make a home run, it is absolutely necessary to touch all three bases and the plate!”
“Oh, yeah? Well, I think it’s pretty tough when a feller can’t open his mouth without bein’ told to pipe down every other minute!”
“Cheer up, Charles. It’s a long worm—you know. And you’ve got this one on his back with your chatter. The Baron said that this was war, and I, for one, believe he’s right!”
“And,” Charlie chortled, “Sherman said that war was—”
“All that and more. Nothing slow about you when it comes to pickup. Well, there’s the crane showing topside. Reckon I’d better feed the old girl a little more gas and mosey over there.”
Chapter VII
ABOARD
The Amtonia had stopped her engines and now lay broadside on to the gentle groundswell. Bill landed to leeward of the great ship, and taxied the amphibian upwind to a point off her leeward quarter. Then he shut off his motor and when the plane’s momentum carried her to within a few yards of the hull, towering high above the little aircraft, he ordered Charlie to fling out the sea anchor. Their drift, of course, was to leeward, so the manoeuver brought them nose on to the ship’s side, directly below the long arm of the hoist.
In order that seaplanes may be taken aboard ships, flying boats are provided with slings. Bill’s craft being an amphibian, was equipped with retractible landing gear, operated electrically from the cockpits. But inasmuch as the Amtonia boasted no deck upon which an airplane might land, the hoist was the only means available.
A heaving line was cast to the amphibian as soon as her propeller stopped, and made secure while Bill and Charlie worked like beavers to secure the wing lines. That accomplished, the lads broke out the sling, and after considerable trouble, passed it completely around the hull of their craft, using spreaders to prevent crushing during the hoist aboard.
While they were working on these details, the hoisting hook was let down to them and presently the sling was made fast to it.