CHAPTER XI

THE ALBATROSS FLIES ON ONE CELL

It was just after nine o’clock the following morning when the Albatross settled to the ground close by the camp.

“Here’s hoping that no one has rifled the grub,” Gordon said as he leaped to the ground.

“We’ve had enough interruption for a while and that’s a fact,” Bill told him as he hurried to the spot where they had cached their provisions. “Guess everything’s all right,” he announced a moment later after a hasty examination.

“That’s good news,” Rogers smiled. “Are we going to take the rest of the day off or are we going to get busy?”

“The rest of the day? Where do you get that stuff? The day is young yet,” Gordon told him. “Of course we’re going to get busy. What do you think we’re here for?”

“How about the tide?” Bill asked as he glanced at his watch.

“Must be about half way out,” Rogers told him.

“Then we’ll have several hours,” Bill said. “Think it’s safe for all three of us to go?”

“Lightning never strikes twice in the same place,” Gordon told him.

“Meaning you think it’s all right to leave things to look out for themselves?”

“I’d say so. I don’t believe anyone comes along here once in a dog’s age. But don’t forget to hide the cells.”

“Why not take the plane and land it on the beach where we want to start in and then we can keep an eye on it,” Rogers suggested.

“That’s using the old bean,” Gordon told him. “And we won’t have to walk so far either.”

“Which sure appeals to you,” Bill laughed. “But I do think it’s an excellent plan.”

So a moment later they were again in the air and soon dropped over the cliffs at the point where the fissure was located. There was plenty of space between the rocks and the water to land and, as the tide was still going out, they felt safe in leaving the plane.

“I’d like to take another look up this ravine before we do anything else,” Rogers said as soon as they were ready to start on the search. “From the map I don’t think it’s likely that the place is there but I’d like to look again just the same.”

“Suits me,” Gordon told him.

“And I suppose we’re as likely to find it one place as another. A map as old as that one isn’t likely to be very accurate,” Bill added as they started off up the narrow defile.

“There’s the rock that came pretty near putting me out of business,” Gordon told Bill a few minutes later as he stopped and pointed to the stone which had fallen from the top of the cliff and had so narrowly escaped him.

“It would have done just that if it had hit you,” Bill shuddered.

They spent nearly two hours hunting both sides of the ravine but found nothing and at last Rogers advised going back and starting over again on the cliff facing the ocean. “It isn’t in here that’s certain,” he declared as he mopped his face.

“Well, we didn’t expect it was,” Gordon told him, “so we don’t need to be disappointed.”

“You sound as though you didn’t expect to find it at all,” Bill told him as they started back.

“Don’t you believe it,” Gordon retorted. “I didn’t mean that at all. Of course we’re going to find it. Have we ever fallen down on anything we’ve undertaken?”

“But there’s got to be a first time,” Rogers reminded him.

“I know, but this isn’t going to be it,” Gordon insisted.

“Got a hunch?” Bill laughed.

“Maybe,” Gordon replied, returning the laugh.

By this time they had reached the entrance to the ravine and for a moment they paused looking both ways to make sure no one was in sight.

“Did you take the cells out?” Gordon asked Bill.

“I sure did,” Bill assured him. “Don’t catch me leaving them anywhere in it.”

“Then let’s go.”

They walked slowly along the foot of the cliff keeping their eyes on the almost perpendicular walls that they might miss no single chance. About a quarter of a mile from where they had left the plane was a sharp break in the cliff and as soon as they rounded it they were out of sight of the Albatross, a circumstance which made them all a bit uneasy. But no one mentioned it, and they had proceeded nearly another half mile when Bill, who was a few feet ahead of the others, suddenly stopped and pointed to a spot on the wall about ten feet from the ground.

“What do you make of it?” he asked.

“Looks as though it might be a stone set in the face of the cliff,” Gordon told him.

“That’s what I thought.”

“Where do you mean?” Rogers asked taking a step nearer the cliff.

“Right over your head,” Bill told him. “Don’t you see it?”

“You mean where that crack is?” Rogers again asked pointing.

“That’s it.”

“Well, all I’ve got to say is that you must have mighty sharp eyes to notice it,” Rogers told them. “Of course I see it now but I never would have noticed it.”

“What made me notice it is that it’s a different kind of stone from the rest of the cliff,” Bill told him.

“I believe you’re right,” Rogers agreed. “It does seem to be a bit darker in color, but the difference is so slight that not one in a hundred would have noticed it.”

“Oh, Bill’s got sharp eyes all right,” Gordon told him.

“I’ll say he has,” Rogers agreed.

“Listen, now,” Bill said as he picked up a stone about the size of his fist. “I’m going to hit the wall just beyond that crack and then I’m going to hit the other side of it and I want you to note if there’s any difference in the sounds. Well, how about it?” he asked after he had made the experiment.

“There was a difference,” Gordon declared and Rogers agreed with him.

“I thought so myself,” Bill told them. “But let’s try it again.”

They tried the experiment several times and they were all thoroughly convinced that the stone did not form an integral part of the cliff.

“That stone has been put there sure as you’re born,” Bill declared.

“And it must have been put there for a reason,” Gordon added.

“I believe you’re right on both counts,” Rogers told them.

“And it looks to me as though we were at the end of our search,” Gordon said.

“Don’t be too sure of that,” Bill cautioned him. “There’s lots of room for a slip yet.”

“Oh, I’m not counting any chickens before they’re hatched,” Gordon grinned. “But it looks hopeful, as the old maid said when a man tipped his hat to her.”

“Well, the next question is how are we going to find out,” Bill said.

“And rather a hard question at that,” Rogers added.

“If that stone was set in there the fellow that did it sure did one mighty fine job,” Gordon declared. “Look how fine the crack is all around it except on that one side. Why, it must have taken him a long time to get it just the right shape.”

“No doubt about that,” Rogers told him, “But remember, he was hiding something very valuable and, according to his own account, he had lots of time on his hands.”

“Well, it isn’t getting us anywhere standing here talking about it,” Bill told them.

“Action is what we want,” Gordon added.

“Get up on my shoulders and hit it with a rock again,” Bill said as he took his stand close to the wall.

“There’s a hollow place behind it,” Gordon assured them a moment later.

“Seems pretty solid, doesn’t it?” Rogers asked.

“Sure does. But a crowbar might do the trick.”

“A drill and a stick of dynamite would be better,” Bill said as Gordon jumped to the ground.

“Neither of which we’ve got,” Gordon declared.

“But I reckon we can get both in Honolulu,” Rogers told him.

“Well, there’s lots of time for that,” Bill said. “Let’s look around first and see if we can find anything nearer.”

“You don’t expect to find a crowbar lying around loose, do you?” Gordon laughed.

“Hardly that,” Bill told him, “but we might find a pointed stone which we could use. You see, it might not take much of a tug to get it out.”

“It won’t do any harm to try at any rate,” Rogers said as he began looking around.

But it seemed that all the available stones were of the wrong shape until, after a search lasting all of an hour, Bill found one that he thought might answer. He was some distance from the others when he picked it up and shouted:

“Here’s one.”

The stone was about a foot and a half long and a couple inches wide, and an inch thick except at one end where it tapered to what was almost a knife-like edge.

“It’s got to come out mighty easy for that thing to do it,” Gordon declared as he took the stone in his hand.

“I know it, but we can try it,” Bill retorted.

“Sure we can,” Gordon agreed handing the stone to Rogers. “Hand it to me when I get up on Bill’s shoulders,” he told him. “All right,” he said a moment later, “let’s have it.”

“Work it easy, now,” Bill cautioned.

It was an awkward place from which to work as he had to reach above his head, but he soon had the edge of the stone in the crack and began to pry.

Snap.

“I told you so,” Gordon said as he jumped to the ground. “That thing snapped as soon as I put the least pressure on it.”

“The stone didn’t move any before your crowbar broke, did it?” Rogers asked.

“Not a move,” Gordon told him.

“Well, I guess we’ll have to get the proper tools before we can accomplish anything,” Bill said.

“Anyhow it’s about time for dinner,” Gordon reminded him.

“That tummy of yours,” Bill laughed.

“Well, it’s most two o’clock, and——great guns, look at the tide.”

So intent had they been on their occupation that they had completely forgotten all about the tide and now they were astounded to see that the water at points was almost at the bottom of the cliff.

“We’ve got to hustle if we want to get around the point without having to swim,” Bill shouted as he started off on a run.

“We’re not going to do it without getting our feet wet,” Gordon told him as he fell in at his side.

“We’ll be lucky if that’s all we get wet,” Rogers added close behind them.

“Suppose the plane’s all right?” Gordon panted when they were about half way to the point.

“I’m not so sure,” Bill told him. “But it won’t be long if it stays where it is, that’s certain.”

“We’re going to get wet all right,” Gordon declared a moment later as they came near the point and he could see the surf breaking on the rocks.

“Well, it won’t be the first time,” Bill puffed. “The only thing I’m worrying about is whether or not the water has reached the plane.”

“We’ll know in a minute,” Rogers told him.

“It’s a good thing there isn’t much wind,” Gordon said as they reached the point and started to wade.

They rounded the point without getting into the water above their knees, and Bill gave a sharp cry as he saw the plane about a quarter of a mile down the beach.

“The water has got it all right and we’ve got to make it in nothing flat if we’re going to save it,” he yelled as he increased his speed.

There was need of haste for the water had not only reached the plane but had gone so far beyond it that every wave, as it rolled in, was rocking it violently. There were, they knew, a number of rather large rocks near where they had left it and the great danger was that it would come down on one of them and be damaged. They could see that the surf was washing nearly to the foot of the cliffs. Indeed, there was only a narrow strip of beach left where they were at the moment and opposite the plane the cliff came down nearer the ocean.

“Gee, but this tide sure does come in fast when it gets started,” Gordon panted running close behind Bill.

“Seems that way,” Bill flung back.

“We may have to pull her up in the ravine.”

“Not a chance.”

“Guess you’re right. I reckon the water comes up too far.”

The plane was swishing about in a foot or more of water when they reached it and they lost no time in getting a hold on it and pushing it toward the cliff.

“Think we can make it from here?” Gordon asked when the plane was only a few feet from the cliff.

“Guess so. Jump in and we’ll make a stab at it,” Bill told them.

The plane was now situated so that the water reached it only when the surf rolled in and then it was not deep enough to move it. In a minute they were all in their seats and Bill was slipping one of the cells in its place in the motor which ran the elevator. But when, he felt in his other pocket for the other cell he caught his breath.

“’Smatter?” Gordon asked.

“I’ve lost one of the cells,” Bill told him.

“You can’t have,” Gordon insisted.

“Perhaps I couldn’t but I did. It must have slipped out that time I tripped and fell just after we rounded the point.”

“Slip it in the other motor and we’ll see if we can take off the regular way,” Gordon advised.

“Impossible,” Bill told him. “Too many rocks in the way.”

“What’ll we do then?”

“I was thinking that perhaps we could put the cell in that motor and jockey down to the path in front of the camp and then we could pull her out.”

“Better make it snappy then,” Rogers spoke for the first time. “We’ll have to run through some water as it is, I’m afraid.”

By the time he had finished speaking Bill had changed the cell and a moment later pushed over the switch. As he had said there were too many rocks of large size along the beach in that particular locality to enable him to run fast enough to allow of a hop off, but by running slowly he believed he could steer by them. He turned the wheel as the plane started and it swung out toward the ocean and almost at once was in a foot or more of water.

“Why didn’t you turn the other way?” Gordon shouted.

“Wasn’t room,” Bill retorted.

“Look out or you’ll swamp her.”

“I’m doing the best I can.”

“Don’t I know it?” Gordon cried.

The plane was now headed the other way and moving slowly toward the cliffs. Then, without warning it gave a sudden lurch and they could feel the wheels settle down as the plane came to a sudden stop.

“Struck a hole,” Gordon announced.

“How’d you guess it?” Bill smiled as he began speeding up the motor.

Faster and faster whirled the propeller, but the plane did not move even when he had the switch on the next to the last notch.

“I’m afraid to give her the last notch,” Bill said.

“How come?” Gordon asked.

“It’s likely to strain her,” Bill told him. “There must be a rock or something in front of one of the wheels, maybe both.”

“I’ll see,” Gordon told him as he leaped over the side of the cockpit. “I’ll say there is,” he announced a moment later after a hasty examination. “And it’s too big to move, must weigh a ton.”

“If we get out do you think we can push her back?” Rogers asked.

“Just a minute till I see what’s behind,” Gordon told him. “It’s in a pretty deep hole but maybe we can do it,” he told them.

Rogers and Bill were out by the time he had finished speaking, the latter having shut off the power when Gordon got out. But, light as was the plane in comparison with other planes, it was too heavy for them to move under the circumstances.

“She’s wedged in there for keeps, I’m afraid,” Bill panted, shaking his head.

“Let’s put the cell in the other motor and see if she’ll go up straight,” Gordon suggested.

“Won’t do any harm to try,” Bill agreed as they climbed back.

“I was afraid it wouldn’t work,” Rogers said a few minutes later, after Bill had turned all the power into the elevator.

“Maybe if you and I get out she’ll do it,” Gordon proposed.

“It’s worth a try,” Rogers agreed.

“Wait a minute till I slow her down a bit,” Bill ordered.

Thus lightened the plane gave a lurch when Bill pushed the switch to the last notch and the next instant it shot up into the air, and reached an altitude of nearly a hundred feet before he could get the motor slowed down.

“That did the trick,” Gordon declared, looking up at the plane.

“Sure did,” Rogers agreed.

“But look,” Gordon cried, “the wind’s taking him out.”

“And pretty fast, too,” Rogers agreed.

So intent had they been with the problem of getting the plane out of the hole none of them had noticed that the wind had strengthened and was blowing directly off shore.

“He’s still going up.”

“Wonder what his idea is.”

“Maybe he thinks he will strike an ocean breeze if he goes up far enough.”

As each in turn expressed an opinion the plane was rapidly mounting and soon it was up so high that it looked hardly larger than a small bird. Then, suddenly, Gordon gave a gasp.

“I believe he’s falling.”

“Nonsense,” Rogers told him.

“I tell you he is,” Gordon insisted, and Rogers could no longer deny it.

Down plunged the plane, gaining speed rapidly, and Gordon groaned in anguish while Rogers placed his arm about his shoulders in an effort to comfort him.

“What could have——”

But he never finished the sentence. The plane was only a few rods from the surface of the water when they saw that the forward propeller was revolving and just before the plane touched the water it had gained enough headway to arrest its downward plunge and in another minute the danger was passed and the Albatross swept over their heads with Bill leaning over the side of the cockpit waving his hand at them.

“Do you know what he did?” Gordon gasped.

“Started the propeller by the force of the air,” Rogers answered him.

“Not a bit of it. You can’t start an electric motor that way.”

“Gee, that’s so. I never thought of that, but you don’t mean——”

“But that’s just what he did. He changed that cell to the other motor while the plane was falling and, thank God, he got away with it.”

“Who’d have thought of it but he?”

“And who else would have had the nerve to try it if he had?”

“Who indeed?” Rogers echoed. “But, I say, we’ve got to beat it and beat it quick.”

“I’ll say so,” Gordon agreed as they started on a run through the water which was now well above their knees.

The plane was circling around overhead and, as they looked up, they saw that Bill was motioning to them to hurry.

“I’m afraid he’s going to have trouble in landing,” Rogers panted as they hurried along side by side.

“Probably that’s what he is trying to tell us,” Jack replied.

The water by this time was touching the foot of the cliffs every time a roller ran up the beach and they knew there was one place just before they reached the path where it would be much deeper and they also knew that the depth was increasing every minute.

“We may have to swim,” Gordon said.

“Guess it won’t be that deep,” Rogers replied.

And he was right, for although the water reached well above their waists, they were able to keep their feet, and a moment later were running up the pathway toward the camp. As they reached the place Bill flew by scarcely ten feet over their heads making as little speed as was possible to keep the plane in the air.

“Going to hit just beyond the camp,” he shouted. “Stand by to help put on the brakes.”

“Give us time to get set,” Gordon shouted back and Bill waved his band to tell them that he understood.

“He’ll hit right about here,” Gordon told Rogers indicating the place. “And we want to stand right here,” he continued taking his position about twenty feet from the landing spot. “He won’t be going very fast and it’s up to us to catch hold of the plane and stop it before it hits those rocks, and it’s going to be some job.”

“We’ll have to catch hold of the tips of the wings,” Rogers said.

“I reckon.”

“Think we can reach them?”

“Come to think of it I doubt it. We could reach them perhaps but there’s nothing to get a grip on. No, we’ll have to let them go over us and grab hold of the sides of the cockpit.”

“That’s my idea. Here he comes.”

The plane was only a short distance away and they could see that Bill had shut off the motor and that the propeller had nearly stopped. Then the plane struck the ground and they ducked. A moment later and the plane rolled between them and they grabbed for the sides of the cockpit. Fortunately they both got a good hold and, although they were swept from their feet, their weight helped and the plane came to a stop just six inches from a large rock.