“Sounds like a chopper,” Jerry said.
Soon it was directly overhead and building up in volume. Unexpectedly a big helicopter broke out of the smoke less than fifty feet above them. The boys leaped up and down, waving their arms and shouting. Even Quiz hopped about on his one good leg. The figures in the glass-enclosed cockpit were clearly visible.
“There’s Uncle Russ!” Sandy yelled.
The great rotor blades churned the air like the wings of a giant bird as the ship braked its descent about twenty-five feet above the pit and hung motionless in air.
“They’re not going to land, are they?” Jerry looked concerned. “It will squat right on top of us.”
In answer to his question, a hatch in the underside of the plane slid open and a Jacob’s ladder was let down slowly. A man’s voice blasted out of the ’copter’s special loud-speaker system:
“This is Russ Steele.... Are you all okay?... Just nod your heads, I can’t hear you.” The boys nodded vigorously. “Good! Think you can all make it up the ladder?... Still too hot down there to try a landing.” Sandy and Jerry nodded, then pointed to Quiz’s ankle with elaborate gestures. “Quiz can’t make the climb?... Well, Quiz, do you think you can hold on while we reel you in?” Quiz nodded his head affirmatively. “Fine. Sandy and Jerry, you two come on up first.”
The ladder was dangling right before their noses now. Sandy took a long breath and put his left foot on the first wooden rung, grasping the rope sides firmly. “Here I go,” he said.
And go he did! Without warning, a gust of wind caught the ’copter and lifted it ten feet in the air. Sandy, clinging for his life to the ladder, went sailing up and out in a wide arc. Back and forth he swung like an acrobat on a high trapeze. Below him the ground swirled sickeningly and he squeezed his eyes tight shut. Uncle Russ’s voice rang in his ears.
“Hold tight! You’ll be all right.”