"What's the idea?" enquired Athol.
"There are four seats like that, and each one is gimballed. That is, it is suspended in a similar manner to a compass on board ship, so that in spite of the motion the sitter is always 'right side up.' No matter how the battleplane banks, nose-dives, or even 'loops the loop,' the crew, seated in their allotted stations, are always in a natural position."
"That I can see," said Dick. "But how is a fellow to see where's he going when the plane is upside down? In that event his head and shoulders are inside the fuselage."
"Only for a few moments," replied the inventor. "The plane is self-righting, provided, of course, there is 'air-room.' Just give a glance at your friend's feet. No, there's nothing wrong with them. That's not what I meant. His feet are resting on a step, behind the step is a sheet of burnished metal inclined at an angle of forty-five. Now, in the event of the 'plane turning over on its major axis that mirror would project below the inverted deck of the chassis, and thus the pilot would still be able to 'look ahead.'"
Facing the pilot's seat were a few indicators and levers, whereby the altitude and speed of the plane could be determined and the aircraft steered on her course. A voice-tube communicated with the motor-mechanic who occupied the third seat. The second and fourth seats were raised slightly above the others, and were intended for the machine-gunners.
"The offensive armament is not yet on board," explained the inventor. "I have turned out a couple of automatic weapons firing eight hundred shots a minute. Here is one of the cartridges," he continued, drawing a metal cylinder from his pocket. "The calibre is 303, the same as that of the small arms of the British Army, but you must observe that the bullet is longer and different in other respects."
"It certainly is longer," agreed Dick, as he handled the cartridge. "But beyond that I see no difference."
"Do you notice a minute line round the bullet?" asked Blake. "The projectile is made in two parts. On leaving the muzzle the parts fly apart, but are held together by a length of flexible wire. Thus each bullet resembles a miniature chain-shot of the days of the old wooden walls. A hostile plane would stand little chance if under the fire of a hail of these bullets. There would be no clean holes in the fabric; struts and tension wires would be severed and the whole contraption would fall like a stone."
"Then what propels the plane?" asked Dick, his interest in the motors claiming precedence above all other constructional details.
"This pair of engines, each of two hundred horse-power," was the reply. "See, I actuate this lever and the wings—I prefer to call them wings rather than planes—unfold."