With his feet on the rudder pedals and right hand on the stick, Bill adjusted helmet and goggles as the engine warmed up. Then he cut down the throttle speed and clapped on his phone set. A twist of the head told him that Osceola was secure, and he roared the engine into twelve hundred revolutions per minute. They were rolling in earnest now. Bill lifted his ship off the ground with the engine beating a steady tattoo. Then he opened her up wide and pulled back on the stick.