Free The Spirit of ST Louis by Charles A. Lindbergh Page B

Giuseppe Bellanca about that. I've arranged for you to meet him. You may want to talk to the Huff-Daland people, too. But wouldn't you like to take a trip around our factory while you're here in Paterson?"
    We walk through lines of lathes, under belts and spinning wheels. Metal shavings twist off hardened tool points and fall to the floor. Hand trucks, stacked with finned and contoured castings, pass us by. I see it all with my eyes, but my mind is on the Bellanca and my flight to Paris.
    "How long can a Whirlwind engine stay in the air without any servicing?" I demand.
    "I don't believe we know exactly," the executive replies. "The rocker-arm bearings would be the limiting factor. When they run dry, they get sluggish and stick. They'd keep going for a good many hours; but for a long flight, we probably ought to find some way of greasing them in the air… This is our foundry."
    We continue on, past tempering ovens, down the engine overhaul line, out to the deafening test stands.
    "We run our engines here till they break down," the executive explains, "to see what parts fail first."
     
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    "My plane is fully capable of flying nonstop from New York to Paris." Giuseppe Bellanca leans forward intently from a lounge in the Waldorf-Astoria. "I should like very much to have it make the flight."
    Bellanca is a serious, slender man—straight black hair, sharpcut features, medium height. One feels, in his presence,/ genius, capability, confidence. Here there'll be no feinting for position, no cards held back. What he says, you can believe.
    "It will only be necessary to put a big gasoline tank in the cabin," he tells me.
    "Is the landing gear strong enough to take off with such a load of fuel?" I ask.
    "Yes; I have built the landing gear especially strong. There should be no trouble about taking off," he says.
    "How many hours do you think your plane could stay in the air without refueling, if the pilot kept it throttled down to minimum flying speed?" I ask.
    "I believe it could stay up for more than fifty hours, Captain Lindbergh. That would break the world's endurance record."
    "It might be a good idea to try to break the endurance record, as an engine test, before starting out on a nonstop flight over the ocean," I suggest.
    "I think that would be wise," he replied. "The plane is fully capable of it."
    "If we can't buy the Bellanca you're flying now, how soon could you build another one?"
    "It would not take long if I have a factory, Captain Lindbergh. But now I have no factory. I cannot tell. If I must organize a factory, it takes much longer -- But I think there is a good chance that the sale of the plane we have built can be negotiated for such a purpose. I hope so. A successful flight to Paris would be of great value."
    It's clear that in Giuseppe Bellanca I have a friend. He's as much interested in the New York-to-Paris flight as I am. And he knows the problems of financing an enterprise—he's going through these himself. He doesn't change his attitude at all when I tell him that our St. Louis organization isn't yet complete. We talk about cruising speeds, fuel requirements, takeoff distances. He has at his finger tips the answers to practically everything I want to know.
    "Well, I think I have all the information I need," I say finally. "I must take the train west tonight. Thank you very much for all your help."
    We get up, shake hands.
    "I hope you have success with your organization, Captain Lindbergh," he tells me in parting. "I hope you are able to buy my plane."
     
     
    Well, now I've made contact with the Wright Corporation, and with Bellanca. When I return to St. Louis, I'll have more than an idea to sell. I'll be able to tell about an airplane that's able to make the flight, and a designer who's anxious to have his plane bought for that purpose. Then, if I can raise enough money, I'll take the train back to New York and make a cash offer to whoever owns the Wright-Bellanca.
     
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    As soon as I reach