But his recovery of himself was instant and with a
desperate pull he forced the guiding planes back horizontally. The
glide downward stopped and the Cibola shot forward with renewed
speed.
On the bridge Ned held a fluttering chart before him.
"How is she heading?" he called to Pilot Alan at the wheel. With a
glance at the compass before him Alan promptly responded:
"Nor'nor'east."
"Make it north by east."
A quick slight movement and a strain told that the alteration had
been made.
"North by east it is," sang out Alan.
"Keep her there," was the echoing response.
Bob was thrilled. Every word was to him a joy. Everything had
happened so quickly that he hardly knew what it all meant, but he
was happy. Even the sudden discipline pleased him and he was glad
to be a part of it. The knowledge that a younger boy was giving him
orders did not bother him. He had skill in his own line, but he saw
and realized that in the Cibola Ned Napier was in charge and meant
business.
For some time then no word was heard. The Cibola, speeding, swiftly
onward, had crossed the low foothills and was pulling herself
through the almost breezeless air like a modern liner, five hundred
feet above the ground.
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