Swiftly, with the engine gunned in, Don lifted the helicopter above the small groups of fluffy, white cloud that gave him excuse for his experiment. The airport vanished beneath the mist and the shrouding clusters of dense, smoky-white vapor.
Don swung the nose, as they hovered, drifting only slightly.
Thus he maneuvered into a position where his understanding of the angles they had worked out enabled Chick to train the projector on a mass of white vapor just over the edge of the bay.
He threw up his arm.
The beam of the white light glowed, and Chick quickly maneuvered it, through a threaded-up section of transparent, non-inflammable film, into the cloud. He began to turn the crank. Darkness ensued in the cloud as part of an opaque film covered the light.
Suddenly Don screamed.
“Stop!”
He threw up his arm, trying to signal Chick.
But the younger chum, intent on his handling of the intense light and the focusing tube of the lenses, as well as the proper course of the film as it jerked downward, paid no attention, failed to hear the cry and did not see the signal, his eyes being turned downward and away.
From the airport came screeches, as of warning, terror or distress.