The tug he gave informed him that the break of the cord lay between him and Don’s stick. He could operate the elevators, but Don could not.
With the cords tautened he waggled them, shaking the ship.
Don turned his head.
He discerned Garry’s bent position, realized what it meant.
Garry, though not a trained pilot, knew the operation of the controls and could co-operate with Don.
With a swift movement of the stick Don began to right the ship as it started its sidewise slip.
Immediately Garry, knowing that the elevators would then function in their proper capacity and that the rudder no longer could lift and depress the nose, worked his cables.
Before the ship could fall off again, Garry drew the “flippers” upward. The engine, full gun, helped their effort, the ship began to surge forward, gaining flying speed in the proper horizontal course.
Watching the nose, his head lifted, his position cramped, the broken end of the cable in one hand and the slack of the other side held in his other fist, Garry watched the ship’s fore and-aft spirit level because his mission was to hold the nose on a level.
Don, with the customary signal of his arm, pointed straight ahead.