ith his revolver ready and aimed at Ribiera's bulk, Bell reached in the front of the car and turned off the switch. The motor died abruptly. He put the key in his pocket.
"Just to get a minute or two extra start," he said dryly. "Climb up in the plane, Paula."
She obeyed, and turned at the top.
"I will cover them until you are up," she said quietly.
Bell laughed, now. A genuine laugh, for the first time in many days.
"We do work together!" he said cheerfully.
But he backed up the ladder. There was a stirring over by the hangars. The mechanic who had taxied the plane to this spot was a dwindling speck, no more than a third of the way across the field. But even from the distant hangars it could be seen that something was wrong.
"Close the door, Paula," said Bell. He had seated himself at the controls, and scanned the instruments closely.
This machine was heavy and large and massive. The boat-body between the retractable wheels added weight to the structure, and when Bell gave it the gun it seemed to pick up speed with an irritating slowness, and to roll and lurch very heavily when it did begin to approach flying speed. The run was long before the tail came up. It was longer before the joltings lessened and the plane began to rise slowly, with the solid steadiness that only a large and heavily loaded plane can compass.