Secrets of the Andes. Foster James H.

Karl, I want you to meet Bob Holton and Joe Lewis, the young men we were just talking about.”

      “Glad to know you, fellows,” the aviator greeted, extending a hand.

      “Pleased to meet you, Mister – ” Bob began, but was interrupted.

      “Karl, if you don’t mind,” the tall man laughed. “I don’t care for that ‘mister’ stuff. First name fits me good enough.”

      “Good enough for us, too,” said Joe with a smile. “Call us Bob and Joe.”

      These informalities tended to bring about a feeling of friendliness which was noticeable in the conversation that followed.

      “Will you please explain how it all came about?” asked Bob. “This airplane stuff almost took Joe and me off our feet.”

      “Off your feet you’ll be in a few days,” chuckled the aviator. “That is if you ginks are picked out to go with me in the plane.”

      “If there’s any air traveling, we want to be in on it,” Bob assured him. “But – ” he hesitated a moment – “how did it all come about?”

      “I’ll tell you,” Mr. Lewis said. “Karl’s dad and I are very good friends – have been for many years. Now when Karl learned of this coming expedition, he at once looked me up and offered to take part of us in his monoplane. All that he’ll charge will be for the gas and oil, and he’ll pay a share of that. The fact that he is a licensed transport pilot makes the whole thing a pretty safe venture.”

      “And I’ve had six hundred hours of flying – without a single mishap,” Karl added proudly. “The monoplane I own is one of the fastest and most efficient machines there are. It’ll do a hundred and fifty miles an hour with no trouble at all.”

      “Sounds well enough,” smiled Joe. “Tell us some more.”

      During the next few minutes the young aviator explained in detail the plans made for the trip. His machine, he said, could carry four passengers and the pilot, and there was a possibility of adding one more. Just who those passengers were to be, the others could decide. The course they would follow he had mapped out carefully, taking into consideration the possibility of having to land at any time. Norfolk, Virginia, would be the last large American city they would see. From there they would proceed south over the Bahama Islands and Cuba, and then on to the north coast of South America. At Bogotá, Colombia, a stop would probably be made for fuel. They would then continue along the coast mountains (Andes) over Colombia, Ecuador, and into Peru. At Mollendo, a small but important coast town, the air travelers would wait to join the other members of the expedition, who would arrive several days later by steamship.

      When Karl had finished, the youths were overflowing with enthusiasm. Their imaginations had been captivated by the prospects of a unique air trip into the Andes. That they could accompany Karl they sincerely hoped.

      “Of course,” began Joe, addressing his father, “Bob and I will be among the passengers, will we not?”

      Mr. Lewis looked grave. He did not have any too much faith in aviation.

      “We’ll see,” he replied. “Your mothers will have to give their consent, you know. It may prove difficult to get that.”

      “I think we can bring them around,” Bob said, with an optimism that he was far from feeling, “especially if you and Dad decide to go. And you will, won’t you?”

      “Impossible for me to do so,” returned Mr. Lewis. “I’ve already made reservations on a steamship. As for Mr. Holton, he may make arrangements to go.”

      “But right now,” started Karl, rising, “how would you fellows” – referring to Bob and Joe – “like to come with me out to the airport? I want to show you the ’plane.”

      “Lead us there!” cried Joe at once. “We want to take in everything.”

      The youths’ fathers had been to the airport the previous day, and so did not care to go again. The boys and Mr. Wallace, however, desired to see the monoplane, especially since there was a chance of their becoming passengers.

      It was nearly noon, but the four decided to leave at once. They could get a lunch somewhere else, perhaps at the airport.

      “Besides, we’re not hungry,” explained Joe, when the others asked that they leave an hour later. “Excitement and activity make us forget all about eating.”

      At the airport the youths and Mr. Wallace were taken to a corner of the field, just off the cement runway. There, before their eyes, was a large white monoplane, shining brightly with a coat of fresh paint.

      “Ain’t it a dandy?” Karl was beaming all over with pride. “Just been completely inspected. It’s just r’arin’ to go!”

      They walked up to the machine to examine it at close quarters.

      “Sure a peach for looks,” commented Joe. “Got an air-cooled motor, too. How about getting inside?”

      “Go ahead. You’ll find it as accommodating as a street car.”

      “It’s all of that,” agreed Bob a moment later, when he had opened the door and stepped into the cabin. “Those comfortable deep seats appeal to me.”

      “Seats aren’t as important in an airplane as in a bus,” laughed Karl. “No bumps in the air.”

      On either side of the cabin were two chairs, placed several feet apart. In the middle of the floor was a small folding table, which the boys guessed had been placed there by Karl as a convenience to members of the expedition. A wide glass window separated the pilot’s cockpit from the passenger section, and the two were connected by a telephone apparatus. Three large windows were in each wall, which was slightly curving near the ceiling. At the rear was a large compartment for food, maps, and other equipment.

      “Now that you’ve looked it over, how would you like to go up for a short ride?” the aviator asked, as the others examined the ship minutely.

      “Like nothing better!” came from Bob. “Can we go now?”

      “Yeah. Everybody hop in. Be sure that door’s tight.”

      Delighted at such an opportunity, the youths and Mr. Wallace took places in the cabin, while Karl climbed into the cockpit.

      A few seconds later there came the roar of the motor, and then the passengers felt themselves moving.

      The ’plane rolled over the cement runway for several hundred feet, then gradually left the ground and began climbing steadily.

      “We’re in the air!” cried Joe excitedly. He and his friend had never been in a monoplane before. “Doesn’t feel unusual, does it?”

      “I wouldn’t know it if I didn’t see the ground dropping away from us,” Bob said. “We’ll probably appreciate the absence from jolts and jars.”

      This easy conversation was made possible by the heavy insulation between the pilot’s and passengers’ quarters. As a result, the roar of the engine was silenced to a remarkable degree.

      When just above the airdrome, they heard Karl’s voice through the telephone.

      “How does it feel?” the aviator asked. “Think you’d like flying?”

      “Sure,” came from Joe, speaking through the transmitter. “It’s a hundred per cent better than land traveling.”

      The experience was not novel to Mr. Wallace, who had once crossed the continent in a huge tri-motor monoplane. But nevertheless he appeared to be enjoying it as much as the young men.

      An altitude of perhaps a thousand feet was reached, and then the ’plane shot ahead toward the business district of Washington.

      They had been in the air perhaps five minutes when Karl’s voice was again heard through the telephone.

      “See anything familiar below?”

      “By George!” exclaimed Bob wonderingly. “We’re right above our houses. Suppose anybody