toward the sunrise, we flew; and except that I was strapped and fettered, I did not feel anything extraordinary in the flight until we were fifty miles from the city and over Indiana farmland.
Then the pilot stood up, climbed from his pit and went out upon the right wing. The monoplane maintained its steady flight. Still this did not amaze me; for an airplane, without guidance, is likely to cling to its course for a while.
I saw, then, my pilot play with the little guide parachute over the pack on his back. He was preparing to jump. He jumped!
Below me and behind, his parachute opened; his fall became a float. I was alone, strapped—and fettered, in the passenger seat of the mono plane.
Still it stayed steady; still it clung to its course, correcting itself by slight shifts of the controls which could not be wholly automatic. So I realized what was being done with me.
I had been put aboard an airplane like the effigy's, a monoplane with radio controls. A pilot in another plane held my fate. Bane?
