CHAPTER X
TWO CAN HIDE IN A CLOUD
When, at three A.M., Mary walked up to her plane, she found Ramseywaiting for her.
“I just wanted to tell you,” he said, “that you need not be frightenedif your fighter escort seems at times to disappear.”
“Disappear from the sky? How could you?”
“Even over the desert at times there are fleecy, white clouds, like afilmy party dress.”
“And you hide behind them—not the dresses, but the clouds.”
“Quite right.”
“And then you come dashing out at the Messerschmitts?”
“Right again. That may seem like using your plane as a decoy. Perhapsit is, in a way. But we’re guarding the airways and we must get thoseflying rats. Two of our finest boys, the grandest in the world,vanished over that desert, just last week.”
“We’ll be seeing you.” She climbed up to take her place in the plane.
She found Sparky looking rather bleary-eyed. “Big job getting thatburned engine into shape,” was his curt explanation.
“I’m all rested up,” she said. “Just as soon as we’re well in the sky,I’ll take the ship. You’re due for two hour’s rest.”
“Guess that’s safe enough.” He handed her the “Form One” card. “Thosebrigands of the air don’t operate close to this airport.”
She studied the card. He turned on fuel and ignition, then tested hisfuel tanks.
“Okay,” he murmured. At that he primed the motors, set the energizerwhirling, nodded to the mechanic, flipped on the fuel booster, noddedonce more to the mechanic, then they were away.
Five minutes later Sparky slipped from his place and Mary had the bigship all to herself.
It was a marvelous day. They were flying at eight thousand feet. Theindistinct desert trails seemed mere lines. Camel trains were movinginsects.
As they advanced, the occasional villages began to disappear. At timesshe imagined that she saw elephants and droves of zebras close to thesame water hole.
Their fighter escort caught up with them when they were an hour fromport.
“Port.” That was the name Mary found herself giving to the place shehad left. Why not? One left a port for a sea lane. Sea lanes werecarefully guarded these days. Their fighter escorts were likedestroyers. They guarded her air lane. And her plane’s load might, forall she knew, be more precious than a big ocean freighter’s cargo.
“Well,” she thought, “we’re fully halfway between America and China andthey haven’t got us yet. We—”
Her thoughts broke off short. Had she spotted a plane flying low on thehorizon?
As if to confirm her suspicion, her escort flew in close. Sherecognized the long, slim, sleek fighter flown by Ramsey. He droppedhis right wing in salute.
The last plane in Ramsey’s fighter formation gave her a real shock. Thepilot dropped the plane’s nose, then pulled it up short as if he wereriding a bucking bronco.
“That,” she told herself, “is one of Dad’s tricks. But he can’t be inthat two-seater. He’s taught the trick to one of his men, I suppose. Iwonder?”
For a full hour after that she zoomed straight on.
“We’ll be in Persia in a few hours, dining in one of those rare Persiangardens.” For her Persia was Persia, the Persia of the golden moon.People could call it Iran if they chose. She was all for the beauty andromance that had been Persia.
There were fleecy, white clouds in the sky just as Ramsey had said. Themembers of their flying escort seemed to be playing a game ofhide-and-go-seek among those clouds. Then, just as a thicker cloud shuther off from the light of the sun, they all vanished.
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_The Fighter Planes Guarded Her Air Lane_]
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At that moment, as everything took on a darker hue, she seemed, to bein a lonely little world all her own. She wanted to call Sparky butcould not get the consent of her mind to do so. “Poor Sparky,” shethought, “he works so hard. And when he’s through the old ship moves onlike a placid river.”
Another quarter hour passed and then suddenly she called in a startledvoice:
“Sparky! Sparky!”
“What is it?” He was at her side in an instant.
She did not answer, only pointed forward and down, then set her planeclimbing toward a cloud, at the same time driving the engines into atremendous roar. Four powerful enemy fighters were all but upon themand, as if bent upon suicide and destruction, racing straight on. Ifthese pilots had rejoiced because of their rare find, their exultationwas short lived, for, darting from a cloud, a flying fury sprangstraight at their leader.
“Ramsey!” Mary exclaimed. “It’s Ramsey! He’ll be killed!”
“Give me the controls,” Sparky’s voice was quiet. After slowing themotors, he continued to climb.
“It’s our only chance,” he grumbled. “Not much of a chance at that.Those Huns are too close. If it wasn’t for those fighters of ours we’dbe lost.”
“Lost before you could say it,” Mary agreed. “But Ramsey! Ramsey!” shescreamed.
The leader of the Messerschmitts had let loose a burst of fire atRamsey’s plane but, tilting his ship’s nose, he had gone shootingbeneath the enemy to execute a turn that was like a pinwheel and thento send three short, sharp bursts at the flying Hun.
It seemed to Mary as she looked that the Messerschmitt had been sawedsquarely in two. It doubled up, began to smoke, then went spinning down.
“I’ll take the controls,” she said. “You man the machine gun. They maycome straight at us.”
Hardly had Sparky gripped the machine gun when one of the remainingflying bandits came zooming in.
“He’s got a cannon,” Mary thought. “He’ll get our right engine andthen—”
But he didn’t. Seeming to have hopped off from the back of her plane, atwo-seated fighter leaped straight at the on-coming enemy.
As if fearing a collision in mid-air, the enemy pilot banked sharply tothe left. This left his broadside exposed. At the same instant, boththe gunner of the two-seater and Sparky let go a smoking fury of fire.For a moment the enemy appeared to stand still in mid-air. Then itsnose turned swiftly downward as it went into a spin.
“Two of them!” Mary exulted. “We’ll have them all in a minute more.”
But when it comes to enemy fighting planes it would seem that fourminus two equals five for, as she looked again, she saw five planeszooming straight at them.
The sun came out from behind the cloud. At that all the planes shone inthat bright light. Mary’s big plane with its precious load stillclimbed, but to her excited mind it seemed so slow. “Like a lumberingstage coach,” flashed through her mind.
The fighters, too, climbed. It was one of those times when a minuteseems an hour, when the work of a lifetime is rewarded for good or evilin a trice.
Before the girl’s astonished eyes, a rare spectacle of the air formeditself, then put on its deadly show. Six planes, three of the enemy andthree of her fighter escort, formed in a circle, head-to-tail. Eachstriving for the advantage, went circling round and round.
It was Ramsey who broke this up. Darting out from a cloud he sent aburst of fire into the tail-end enemy plane, then with a wide swing metthe foremost enemy head-on.
Mary caught her breath. It seemed to her that they must crash. A momentmore and they were hidden by smoke. One had been hit. Which one? Shecould not tell.
Free for the moment, the remaining enemy of the three headed straightfor the big cargo ship. Then it was that the two-seater pilot, who hadgiven her the bronco-nose salute earlier in the day, got in some deadlywork, for, with surprising speed, he got on this last plane’s tail andbrought him down in flames.
“Good work!” she screamed. “But, Ramsey? What of Ramsey?” She was soonenough to know.
/> After allowing her eyes to sweep the sky making sure that the two otherenemy planes were not an immediate menace, she turned once more for alook at the spot where Ramsey and his opponent had been. They were notthere, but high in the sky and still climbing, Ramsey was in hotpursuit of his antagonist.
“Both planes are smoking,” she said to Sparky who had come to stand ather side.
“But neither badly,” was the quiet reply.
“There! Oh! There!” she exclaimed. “The Spitfire has gone into a nosedive!”
“Don’t expect too much. He’s not badly hurt.”
Scarcely had Sparky spoken when the enemy plane, coming out of hisdive, spun around in a narrow circle to get on Ramsey’s tail and letforth a burst of fire.
“Oh! He’s got him! Poor Ramsey’s gone!”
“Give me the controls.” Sparky took over while, with lips parted, eyesstaring, Mary watched for the end.
The end was not yet. Ramsey’s slender fighter staggered, spun halfabout, tilted over, did two complete flip-flops, then by some miracle,or by the sheer will-power of her master, righted herself.
By some good chance, Ramsey found himself facing his on-comingopponent. He must have pressed the firing button and given her theworks for the enemy plane appeared to fall to pieces in mid-air—not,however, until its pilot had sent one more burst of fire into Ramsey’ssmoking plane.
“He’s on fire! He’s going down!” Mary shouted. At that moment she wasseeing war in all its stark naked horror.
“There! Your friend Ramsey’s out of the plane,” Sparky said quietly asever.
“Good!” The girl settled back. “His parachute is open. He’s comingdown. But, Sparky! we’ll be right beneath him!”
Sparky banked sharply to the right. Mary leaped for the door. Bracingherself against the current of air, she threw the door open, to standthere waiting, looking up, hoping.
Yes, there he was drifting down. He was closer, closer, much closer. Hesaw her. She could see him smile. She waved. He waved back. She shouted:
“I’ll be seeing you!”
He could not hear, but understood. With his hand he threw her a kiss.Then he was gone. When Mary brushed her hands across her eyes, theywere wet with tears.
After that, seated beside Sparky, she sat in silence while miles ofdesert and mountains, narrow, green valleys, and more mountains passedbeneath them until, with surprising suddenness, a small city with manytrees, domes and strange rooftops appeared beneath them.
“That’s it,” Sparky said quietly. “We come down here.”
A little beyond the city that nestled among the hills, they droppedinto a narrow valley and down upon a landing field.
As Mary stepped from the plane, she once again found herself staring ata familiar, broad back and, as the man turned, exclaimed:
“Dad! It’s you!”
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