Jeff cut the gun swiftly, and came out of the bank pointed toward the wide, shimmering waters of Oyster Bay.
“What’s the matter?” Larry swung his head to call back.
“Stick’s jammed!” Jeff grunted through the tube.
“Jammed?”
“Stuck. It won’t come back. It’s the jinx! Hoodoo! We’re heading down for the bay and I can’t get the nose up!”
Dick, from the back place, saw Jeff struggling with the stick.
If he did not hear, at least his flying study informed him that something had gone amiss.
Equally, his quick mind arrived at a good guess at the trouble.
The only reason Jeff would swing toward the water and give up working with the stick must be that the stick would not operate the elevators.
And that, to Dick, spelled disaster.