“One thing at a time, skipper,” Bud pleaded, “Just how do you control the speed?”
“It’s regulated by a battery of cadmium rods. They control the rate of fission when they’re inserted or withdrawn from the atomic pile. The deeper the rods are inserted into the pile, the less the heat energy. The more the rods are withdrawn, the faster we generate power.”
“I’ll take a dozen.” Bud laughed. “Say, this may be Sandy coming now.” He pointed skyward to a black speck growing larger. “That’s one of your Pigeon Specials, isn’t it?”
“Yes. She’s demonstrating it to a prospective buyer.”
When they arrived at the field, the boys climbed to the observation tower, where the dispatcher told them that Sandy was cleared to land.
“She certainly knows how to handle a ship,” Bud WING-TIP ESCAPE 11
said admiringly as they watched her swing deftly into the air traffic pattern.
“Indeed she does-” Tom started to say when his attention was drawn to a small red plane that was flying in across the field at Sandy’s altitude.
“Look!” Bud cried. “That plane’s cutting her out!”
“It’s Sidney Dansitt’s plane,” the flight dispatcher said.
He shouted into his mike for Dansitt to stay away, that Sandy’s plane had clearance to land first. But the pilot merely increased his speed, held his course, and bore in on the Pigeon. Sandy seemed oblivious of the danger.
The three in the observation tower turned colder than the concrete floor and their necks stiffened as they watched helplessly.
“Sandy, look out!” Tom cried.
The next instant, just as it appeared as if the planes might collide, Sandy realized what was happening. She gave her ship full throttle, pulled back hard on the stick, and the little craft shot up.