When the craft had gained speed enough on the surface of the lake Tom lifted her nose cautiously and, in a minute, sent her sliding skyward. The slant of her nose became more abrupt after a few minutes, and Tom shifted the levers so that the flying boat aimed shoreward once again.
At that time she was sailing not many yards above the lake. As she came inshore the pilot began to make her spiral upward. At first her motion was merely a rocking one and not at all unpleasant to the crew distributed about the boat.
Suddenly, as the plane rose at a sharper slant, she began to roll. Ned shouted to ask his chum what had happened, for the windows were open on the sides of the prow and the drumming of the wings and the rush of the air engendered a noise that was almost deafening.
“I don’t know,” admitted Tom, shaking his head. “Remember, this is my first trip in the thing as well as yours. Why should I be supposed to know all about it?” and he grinned cheerfully as he looked at his chum.
But in a moment the car took another roll. Ned thought it was about to turn turtle. It was no laughing matter.
“Did you make her so she would fly just as well upside down as on even keel?” he demanded, having closed the windows.
Tom looked serious. His hand was on the steering levers, or controls. He knew that this rolling motion must wrench the framework of the plane enormously. They heard the beams groan, and somewhere a cable snapped.
“Listen to that, will you?” exclaimed Ned.
The plane kept on even keel for a few moments longer. They had been in peril, as Tom well knew. Were they now safe?
He lifted the nose of the craft a bit more and again the wings dipped sideways and the boat rolled “upon her beam ends,” as would have been said of a seagoing craft.