If Roberta had really been unconscious when the fury of the storm burst upon them, with the repeated cutting flashes of light and the thunder booming like a terrific bombardment all about the gallant little Nike, she would have come to if there was any life in her at all. She started up with a wild cry, then remembered instantly that she was supposed to be just coming out of a prolonged period of sleep, and so, strained forward on her straps, stared around as if she had no knowledge of anything which had transpired, and struggled to free herself from the belts that held her secure.
At first Mrs. Pollzoff was too fully occupied132 to pay any attention to the plane’s real pilot, and the girl managed to take in the whole situation. The lightning revealed an endless surge of white rollers stretched row after row and piling themselves on top of one another as the gale lashed them like an escaped demon. Her first sensation was one of dismayed certainty that her second glove had gone into the raging water beneath them, so that its chances of being picked up were ruined; the tiny thing would never be recovered and the name printed indelibly on the stiff cuff would never be deciphered.
Twisting and wriggling to get free of her bonds, Roberta verified what she already suspected, that they were secured well out of her reach. The rain began to pour down on them in great sheets as if the heavens had suddenly opened and dumped the accumulation of years on the struggling machine. She managed to catch a glimpse of the indicators and saw that the tanks were well filled; the altimeter registered eight thousand feet but it was going lower with each jerk of the pointer. Whether the engine was functioning or not she couldn’t tell, because the howling133 wind deadened every other sound as Nike tipped and spun like a helpless leaf.
“Let me loose,” Roberta shrieked, but if Mrs. Pollzoff heard, she paid no attention, but battled with grim determination with the controls, endeavoring to climb above the tempest which was pressing down on them with such power that it seemed impossible for the plane to lift an inch.
“Let me fly her,” the girl pleaded frantically, for she realized above everything else, that Mrs. Pollzoff was losing her head, and that their chances of getting out of the dilemma were growing more and more remote. She strained so far forward that her shoulder touched that of the woman, who whirled about angrily, her teeth bared like those of a snarling animal at bay.
“Get out of the way!” She shoved her back into the drenched seat and shook her fist in her face. “Stay where you are or I’ll throw you out!” Roberta couldn’t hear a word, but there was no mistaking the command. “If I can’t get us out, the three of us will go down together. I won’t have it said that you saved me.” Again the clenched134 fist shot close to the girl’s face, and probably if there had been a moment to waste, she would have been struck.
With a furious snarl, Mrs. Pollzoff turned her attention back to her job, and after a grilling ten minutes, Nike’s nose began to lift slowly. The brave little plane climbed sturdily into the gale, which continued to fight every fraction of an inch gained. Ten minutes more and they struggled above the worst of the storm, then Mrs. Pollzoff took time to put the cover over the top of the machine. Before it was closed she scanned the heavens and waters as best she could, but there was no sign of another plane in the air or ship on the ocean. When the cover was finally in place, the cock-pit no longer acted as a space to fill and help drag them to destruction, but the rain beat on the top, and in spite of the lights Mrs. Pollzoff turned on both inside and outside, the lightning filled the whole atmosphere with its weird glow, changing the cheerful illumination to a ghastly, sulphurous hue.
Consulting the altimeter again, Mrs. Pollzoff forced the plane to climb higher, but135 there seemed to be no ceiling to the storm, and they could not get above its rage. The wind veered around until it was on Nike’s tail, and its force drove her ahead at a terrific speed. Here the woman showed a bit more sense than before, by letting the tempest carry them forward instead of struggling against it. She also kept climbing, but at a gradual ascent. The tiny clock on the control-board ticked away two hours, but they seemed more like one hundred and twenty years than that many minutes to the imprisoned young girl. It was nearly morning and if they succeeded in coming through the storm, the first streaks of dawn would be flashing across the heavens in another hour. But that hour too went by bringing no hopeful rays of day to relieve the blackness. On and on they went, once the tank had to be replenished, and once the engine crackled alarmingly for a moment, but that was adjusted. Two hours later they had traveled nearly two hundred miles. It was still raining, but a bit of light was beginning to force its way through the darkness.
Mrs. Pollzoff stubbornly refused to release136 her prisoner or ask advice, although her hands trembled and her body quivered with terror and weariness under the continuous strain, but she did not say another word to the girl beside her, nor did Roberta waste her own strength to plead that she might be given the management of Nike. She could not help admire the indomitable grit of the woman even while she deplored the fact that such courage was misdirected.
Another hour dragged on before there was the faintest sign that they might win through if Nike could hang together through the awful beating she was getting. The rain pounded against her, the gale pressed her down spasmodically, tossed her up again like a plaything, but all the time shoved her forward. It seemed to the girl as if every section in her construction must surely be ripped apart any moment, and Roberta’s heart was grateful for the skill and careful workmanship which had been put into her little craft.
The girl Sky-Pilot’s head no longer ached from the effects of the drug, and her mind was clearer as she tried to figure how she might get free of her bonds, but whenever137 she wiggled too strenuously, Mrs. Pollzoff would look at her maliciously and glance at the buckles to be sure that they were where she had put them. Thinking of the construction of the plane brought back to Roberta’s mind the fact that Mr. Wallace had installed an alarm button; one which was in some way tuned with the broadcasting band, and her heart leaped. Months before when the Blue Pirate Terror had been making a determined effort to force her out of the sky she had pressed her foot over one of the narrow boards in the flooring and by this means had released a spring carefully hidden. If she wasn’t too far away from any broadcasting or radio station she might be heard again, but she knew that the other time she had used this emergency, dozens of men were listening for it and had instantly sprung into action.
Leaning over, as if weary, Roberta studied the floor for the tiny knot which marked the secret section, but the cloak Mrs. Pollzoff had used to dim the lights on the control board was over it. However, she knew well exactly where it was located, and although she had never released it from the passenger’s138 seat, she repeated in her mind the directions. She must reach it with her heel and press hard with the side of it until she felt it give, then she was to hold it so a second, after which it was to be again released.
Roberta hadn’t the faintest idea where they were, nor could she tell from the charts, for the compass was on the further side of the control-board and as Mrs. Pollzoff managed the machine her body obstructed the view. She feared they were so far away that it would do no good at all to use Mr. Wallace’s clever little invention, but just because she was uncertain of the result she wasn’t passing up even an uncertain effort which might help the searchers locate her. She moved her bound feet forward experimentally under the cloak, but although she tried pressing with her heel she found no spot which responded to the force. However, she might get a chance later, so she watched for an opportunity.
Another hour went by slowly, then Mrs. Pollzoff got out the container of food; poured herself a drink of strong coffee which she drank black, then took another. That139 steadied her nerves somewhat and she filled a cup for Roberta, but to this she added a quantity of milk and held it to the girl’s lips. It had been in the thermos bottle and was a sickish warm, a nasty mixture, but she drank it gratefully, for her throat was dry as parchment, and her tongue swollen.
“Thank you,” she said when the last drop was gone, but she didn’t expect to be heard.
After that the woman got out more food, and between operations necessary to keep Nike balanced, she managed to feed the girl beside her some bread and butter sandwiches, topping them off with a little water poured from a tin container. The amount of food, water and the fact that arrangements had been made for the refueling in the air was convincing proof that the woman had carefully planned this scheme, but there was no fathoming the reason for it. When the meal was finished, what was left was stored away again, the cloak was folded, put out of the way, and Roberta&............