"Sykes, Harold S - The Beacon Of Airport Seven" - читать интересную книгу автора (Sykes Harold S)

The BEACON of Airport Seven
by Harold S. Sykes

"The plane at the last moment climbed upward and to the right as the watchers
breathlessly waited for it to clear the upper corner of the tower. There was a
collision and the mass settled to the ground and burst into flames."


In the present story, our versatile author has given us quite a treat.
One of the most important and quite indispensable necessities for night flying
is, of course, the aerial beacon. The aviator's life and the safety of property,
depends on such beacons.
The author in the present story has woven a very clever adventure around this
theme, which is as interesting as it is notable, from a scientific viewpoint.
We are accustomed to think that light rays travel only in straight lines. This
is, of course, not the case. Light rays are refracted, when, for instance, they
pass through the atmosphere of the earth. Thus we see the sun rise actually
before it does, due to this refraction. On the other hand, Einstein in his
theory, which has been proven, has shown us that light waves are bent when they
pass the gravitational field of a star.
You will find the scientific part of this story particularly interesting.



CHAPTER I
A Close Shave
AS Royce picked up the flash of the huge revolving beacon at Wayside he breathed
a sigh of satisfaction, and slowed his motors fifty revolutions. It had been a
tiresome climb to the divide all the way from Airport Six, with gusty headwinds
threatening to put him behind schedule. But now the grind of another trip was
over. There remained but forty miles from the summit to Airport Seven almost
under the light, and a relief crew there would take charge to set the plane down
at San Francisco long before daylight.
A passenger in the saloon leaned back in his leather-covered chair and yawned.
"We must be getting close to Seven. I wish I had taken a berth this trip,
instead of trying to sit up most of the night. There's a hard day ahead of me in
'Frisco."
"Yes, we know all about the hard days you traveling men have," a cattle buyer
answered from across the big cabin. "Hopping from one city to another on these
liners is a joke. Now when I hired a little dilapidated taxi-plane at Ogden one
time to inspect a herd over in the Hidden Valley country, that was a ride to
write home about."
"Let's finish the rubber; I want to get out and stretch my legs at Seven," spoke
up a man at one of the card tables.
"Here, give me the cards; is that a pun or . . ."
"Say, just listen to those motors; I thought we were over the divide." The score
of saloon passengers grasped tables or the arms of their chairs as the huge
plane banked and swerved upward at an ever increasing angle. The five motors,
after responding madly to wide-open throttles, now were laboring terribly under
a heavy load. Bluish wing lights flashed on, reflecting upon the faces of the