“Easily enough—knowing their construction. The PB boats have a tandem engine mounting, for one thing. Can’t talk now—this has got to be a good landing. We’ve a bunch of experts watching us.”
He brought his stick slowly backward, bringing up the nose to level. Then he applied right aileron and simultaneously increased right rudder considerably. When the desired bank was reached, he checked the wing with the ailerons and at the same time eased the pressure on the rudder.
When the plane swung round so that it headed directly into the wind, Bill applied left aileron and left rudder. With wings level once more, he neutralized the ailerons and applied a normal amount of right rudder to steady her.
Once more he nosed over, and this time the Loening sped downward on a straight path into the wind, at an angle of 45 degrees. At a point equidistant from the two rear seaplanes of the moored squadron, Bill leveled off. A moment later, with hardly a splash his plane caressed the water and glided forward under its own momentum until it came to rest directly aft of the squadron’s leading seaplane.
Bill loosened the chinstrap of his helmet, as a figure in a monkeysuit walked out on the lower wing section of the big PB boat, and waved.
“That you, Bolton?”
“Good afternoon, Commander. I’ve got the admiral’s orders aboard.”
“Good enough,” returned Commander Thomson. “Nose that Loening over here and let me have them. That was a smart landing you made just now. You’re a credit to your old instructor!”
“Aye, aye, sir,” replied Bill, with a wink at Osceola, and did as he was bid.
“And I notice you haven’t lost your nerve, either,” smiled the Commander as he took the long blue envelope that Bill handed him. “Cheek is a better word, perhaps.”