The rudder had sent the nose a little downward, the drop changed into a dive.
“Can you pull the rudder further?” The message came swiftly from Lang, through Curt and Al, to Bob, almost out of one mouth before the other said it, so quick was the response.
“Yes!” Bob did so.
Slowly the ship swung onto a more level keel, and while Bob clung with fingers that were growing numb from his excitement, the ship got flying speed, in a sort of descending spiral, the elevators could again be made to lift the nose as flying speed was attained, and the ship was in control.
The signal to ease off did not come at once. Lang preferred to hold his present bank and circle, while he looked over through the lower cabin windows to sight their position.
In that brief time Curt, also keyed up, had located the loose end of the cable that led from the rudder bar; with a piece of strong twine he made a splice, securely reaved onto the loose end, led it to the free end in Bob’s fingers, and, since the rudder was hard down and could be held there by grasping further along the cable, Bob shifted his grip until Curt was able to get his twine, doubled, fast on that part of the cable also. Then, while Lang held his rudder bar steady, Curt tightened gently until the ends of the severed strand were almost touching, made several knots that could not slip—and the entire control of the ship was in Lang’s hands again!
They did not feel like going on to the airport, but Curt, always cool, generally far-seeing, urged that they do so.
“If we go back, we’ll have to tell about this, and create new excitement and talk,” he counseled, and Lang saw the good sense of the idea.
“We’ll go on, and land at the airport,” he agreed, above the sound of his motor. “After we get over our excitement we can think better.”
When they got there, and Lang telephoned the aircraft plant, the trio, outside the booth, heard him ask for Griff.