"Now!" he whispered sharply, and went streaking around the end of the field wall.
He reached the plane a dozen steps ahead of the English boy, and practically leaped into the pilot's cockpit forward. No sooner was he seated and snapping the safety belt buckle than Freddy was scrambling into the observer's cockpit.
"I'm in!" he heard the English youth sing out.
Shooting out a foot Dave kicked off the wheel brake release. Then he grabbed hold of the "Dep" wheel control stick with his right hand and reached for the throttle with his left and gingerly eased it forward. The B.M.W. engine instantly started to roar up in a song of power. Dave opened the throttle more and pushed the Dep stick forward to get the tail up as the Arado started forward.
"Hurry up, Dave!" came Freddy's wild yell above the roar of the engine. "They've seen us! They're running out of the house. They're shooting at us with rifles, Dave!"
Freddy could have saved his breath on the last. The sharp bark of rifle fire came plainly to Dave's ears as he hunched forward over the controls. And almost in the same instant he heard the blood chilling whine of nickel-jacketed lead messengers of death streaking past not very high above his head. Impulsively he ducked lower in the pit, and shoved the throttle wide open. The plane was already bouncing over the ground on its wheels, with the tail up, and then added gas fed to the engine caused the ship practically to leap forward like a high strung race horse quitting the barrier.
The sudden burst of speed flung Dave back in the seat, and for one horrible instant his hands were almost torn from the Dep wheel, and his feet yanked free of the rudder pedals. He caught himself in the nick of time, however, swerved the plane clear of a sudden dip in the surface of the field, and then gently hauled the Dep wheel back toward his stomach.
For a long moment the wheels of the plane seemed to cling to the ground. Then they lifted clear and the Arado went nosing up toward the golden washed blue sky. Clamped air burst from Dave's lungs like an exploding shell. He coughed, and shook sweat from his face, and held the ship at the correct angle of climb. The engine in the nose sang such a sweet song of power that for a moment or so it was in tune with the song of wild joy in Dave's heart. The Arado, as he had rightly guessed, was a cinch to handle. It was light as a feather and responded instantly to a touch on the control wheel, or on the rudder pedals.
As the plane climbed upward he twisted around in the seat and looked at Freddy. The English youth was staring down back at the field they had just left. Dave followed his look and saw the twenty or thirty figures garbed in German military uniforms on the field. At least half of them were firing furiously with rifles. The others were shaking their fists, and making angry gestures for the plane to return and land. Dave grinned and shook his head.
"You can just bet we won't come back!" he shouted into the roar of the engine. "We're not that crazy!"