Tom Swift and His Ultrasonic Cycloplane by Victor Appleton II Page B

copilot, Tom headed eastward to the spot from which Bud and Slim’s last contact had emanated. For half an hour they cruised back and forth over the area without spotting any wreckage, the continuing storm growling and glowering on the rugged horizon.
    Finally Tom said, "I think our best bet is in the storm area." He pointed off to starboard, where the mass of dark clouds blotted out the landscape. A narrow break in the clouds was visible. "That may be the gap Bud mentioned, Arv."
    Hanson frowned. "It’s hard to believe that the cloud bank could remain so stable over a period of days like that."
    "It may be due to some landscape feature," Tom noted. Banking sharply, he steered straight for the strange opening in the area of heavy weather. As they plowed into the periphery of the turbulent overcast, two towering volcanic peaks, great evil-looking cones of wizened lava-rock, suddenly loomed up ahead!
    Chow, who had come forward to the flight compartment with Hedron and two other members of the rescue party, gulped nervously. "Brand my ripcord, I’ll bet m’ bottom dollar that’s them volcanoes the boys saw!"
    "Bud and Slim may have crashed between those peaks or just beyond," Tom replied, half to himself. "I want a closer look."
    The opening in the clouds was narrow, and quickly grew narrower as the ship roared forward toward the twin volcanoes. The rescuers felt as though the walls were closing in on them like a funnel. As they plunged deeply into the turbulent storm area, the giant ship began to buck and shudder violently. Tom seemed about to lose control of the Sky Queen .
    Chow yelled in panic, "We’re goin’ to crash!"
    The faces of Tom’s crewmen blanched with alarm. But the young inventor managed to quiet their fears momentarily with his reply: "Relax, Chow! We were in this soup before and pulled out safely. We’re a mighty big bird!"
    "That’s j-jest what’s worryin’ me," the cook quavered. "Don’t hardly look like anything bigger’n a hoot owl could fly betwixt those pointy peaks!"
    Without warning the storm clouds seemed to slam together, and the plane was now at the very heart of the storm. Rain lashed the cabin windows, and the extinct volcanoes stood out in the leaden darkness like sentinels of doom, gray in the skyship’s forward lights. Tom was forced to jockey the craft like a balky horse to keep it aloft.
    Cutting the forward jets, he braked the Sky Queen sharply. Then, as the plane lost momentum against the buffeting winds, Tom eased off on the jet lifter throttle. Slowly he began the dangerous descent into the gorge between the peaks, prey to the wild wind that all too easily could spin the big craft against the jagged sides of the shadowed, brooding volcanos.
    "Everyone keep a lookout for signs of wreckage!" he instructed his companions. His own eyes darted from side to side—conning the instrument dials, gauging the distance between the threatening mountain walls to port and starboard as the wingless Queen sideslipped unpredictably in nerve-wracking sweeps. In the misty, lightning-lit gloom, visibility was almost at zero. The mammoth plane was so completely boxed in by the peaks that again and again it seemed as if the buffeting winds would dash it against the rocks!
    Beads of sweat glistened on Arv Hanson’s forehead as he watched Tom’s icy-nerved maneuvers. "Only that boy could do it," he muttered softly in George Hedron’s direction. Hedron nodded appreciatively.
    Suddenly there was a screech of tortured metal and the whole ship rocked and vibrated under the impact. "The starboard vane tip is scraping!" yelled Red Jones.
    Instantly Tom yanked the throttle and poured power to the jet lifters. Like a rocket, the plane shot up from between the volcanoes with a blast of smoke and flame, roaring through the writhing canopy of thunderheads and finally emerging into bright morning sunshine miles above the earth.
    Chow had collapsed into the nearest seat, his rotund bulk quivering with