“The turn and bank indicator also reads from zero, and deviates from zero when the plane dips. The bubble rides up to the left when the plane banks right, and rides up to the right when the plane banks left. When the ship is again on an even keel, the indicator goes back to zero. The pilot, when he isn’t flying blind, can keep his plane level by noticing the position of the radiator cap or top of the engine in respect to the horizon. But in a heavy fog, or if he can’t see over his cockpit, the horizon doesn’t exist, and a bank and turn indicator is his instrument. “The instruments that are no less important than these are the oil gauge, the gasoline pressure gauge, and the thermometer, which shows whether the motor is overheating. If the oil gauge shows that the oil is at a good cool temperature, and the gasoline pressure gauge shows that the gas pressure is up, the pilot knows that his motor is running nicely. The gas pressure gauge won’t tell you how much gas you have left, though. It’s always best to figure how much gas you’re going to need on a trip, and then take some over for emergencies. Most planes also have an emergency tank, so that if one tank gives out, the other can be switched on, and will give the flyer time to maneuver about until he finds a landing place.” Captain Bill paused. “Well, those are your instruments. I’ll probably have to explain them all over to you again when the plane comes, and I start to teach you to fly.” “Oh, no, not to me, you won’t,” Bob said. Hal sat quietly looking out over the valley below, saying nothing. He had listened intently to the Captain’s instructions, but there was an odd expression on his face. Finally Pat snorted. Bob and the others jumped. “Hi, what’s the idea. Is there a story being told, or isn’t there a story being told? Get on with you.” “It’s no fault of mine, Patrick,” said Bob, looking meaningly at the Captain, who appeared as innocent as a lamb. “I’m always being rudely interrupted. But I’ll go on. Where was I?” “The Lindbergh lad was at Curtiss Field, waiting this long time to be off,” said Pat. “Oh, yes. Well, when he got word that the weather was O.K., he got his sandwiches, his canteens of water, and started off on the greatest flight in aviation history. And I’ve told you about that.” “We seem to be right back where we started from,” the Captain said. “Is that the end of your story?” Bob laughed. “By no means. You’ve got a lot to hear yet. What do you suppose I’ve been collecting dope for all these weeks? I’ve got a lot to tell you. Lindy wasn’t satisfied with one great trip. He’s been flying since, and has made some pretty important jaunts. Things happened to him after he got back to America loaded down with about every kind of medal that one man can get. And I’m going to tell you all of them.”