Daring Wings
CHAPTER NINE
Relieved of the burden of his other duties, Tim devoted all of hisenergies to the development of his aviation department. He chronicledthe arrival and departure of the mail and express planes at the field inaddition to all of the private ships which made overnight stops orcalled for supplies. He also made it a point to use the plane incovering the dedication of every new airport in the state and thuscreated much good will for his paper.
One day early in May the telegraph editor handed Tim a short story whichhad just come in over the wire. Its contents were such that Tim pickedup the sheet of copy and started for the managing editor's desk.
Carson was closing his desk and preparing to leave the office when Timaccosted him.
"Oh, Mr. Carson," said the flying reporter. "I'd like to talk with youfor a few minutes."
The managing editor glanced at the clock. "I haven't much time, rightnow," he said. "I have an appointment at the dentist's in ten minutes."
"It won't take long," explained Tim and he handed the folded paper tothe managing editor, indicating the article which had attracted hisattention.
Carson scanned the item and then re-read it, his news sense instantlyaroused to the value of the idea behind the story. He smiled at Tim.
"I'll bet you want me to send you and the News' plane on this good willair tour," he said when he had completed reading the story for thesecond time.
"That's it exactly," enthused Tim. "It seems to me like a great chance.Good publicity for the News and at the same time boosting aviation.According to the tentative plans, this will be a good will air tour ofthe state, open to every licensed pilot and plane, with stops at all ofthe larger airports in the state."
"Wouldn't it be pretty expensive?" asked the managing editor.
"Not necessarily," replied Tim. "Gas and oil would be the main item ofexpense and the advertising value of having a plane in the tour wouldmore than offset the expense."
"I wouldn't be surprised but that you are right, Tim," said Carson."I've got to hurry along for that appointment. I'll consider your plantonight and let you know first thing in the morning."
That evening Tim told Ralph of his hope that the News would enter itsplane in the good will air tour and Ralph agreed that it would be agreat stunt, both from the standpoint of advertising the paper and ofpopularizing aviation.
Tim was busy on a handful of rewrites from the morning papers when themanaging editor stopped at his desk the next day.
"We've decided to enter our plane in the air tour," he said. "I talkedit over with Mr. Adams, the advertising manager, and he agrees that itis an excellent plan. I'm glad you called it to my attention, Tim. We'llwork out the details later."
When Tim completed his work on the rewrites he presented himself beforethe managing editor's desk.
"Sit down, Tim," said Carson, as he indicated a chair at his side.
"We want plenty of local interest in the air tour," he went on, "so whatdo you think of having a contest to select a name for our plane?"
"That sounds fine, Mr. Carson," replied Tim heartily. "It ought toarouse interest here because Atkinson is getting more and moreair-minded. You ought to see the number of people who come out to thefield every day to watch the planes, and especially when thetranscontinental air mail comes in. There's a fascination about flyingthat's getting into everyone's blood."
"You certainly have a real case of it," laughed the managing editor,"but I'm glad you have, Tim, for you are doing fine work."
"Now," he continued, "I want you to take complete charge of the contestover the naming of our plane. Offer $100 in prizes to be distributed inany way you see fit. We want to stage the contest in one week and youcan have a column a day for your publicity stories. Select your ownjudges and give me a name by next Thursday. Let's see, this is Tuesday,that will give you two days to get ready, announce the contest thisThursday and the winner in one week. How does that strike you?"
"Dandy, Mr. Carson, and thanks a lot for the opportunity."
Tim threw all his energy into formulating plans for the big contest andby Monday morning, three days before the announcement of the winningname, his desk was piled high with letters. The deadline for entries wasset for Wednesday at 6 p. m. with the announcement of the winner in thenext day's paper.
The first prize was $50, the second best name would get $25, while thenext 25 would be given honorable mention and $1 apiece. Tim selectedCarl Hunter, "Tiny" Lewis, the mail pilot, and Ralph to help him openthe letters and judge their contents. By the time the final mail arrivedWednesday afternoon more than 5,000 letters had been received andexcitement was at a high pitch. A big picture of the plane had appearedin the editions of that day with a question mark on the side where thewinning name would be placed.
All evening long Tim and his helpers ripped open letters, scanned theircontents, and sorted them as they thought best. It was early morningwhen they had completed their task and narrowed the 5,000 suggestionsdown to 27 letters. Out of that 27 would come the first and second placewinners and the list of 25 honorable mentions.
Each one of the judges read the 27 letters and then wrote down hischoice for the first prize. Tim gathered up the four slips. They wereall alike; every one had agreed on the name for the plane, the GoodNews.
When Tim informed the managing editor of the prize winning name, Carsonwas elated.
"Great," he bubbled, "great! Couldn't have been better if I had named itmyself. That ought to make a real hit."
The managing editor's hunch was right and for the next two or three daysthere was a steady stream of visitors at the airport to inspect the GoodNews. The contest and the appropriateness of the name caught the publicfancy.
With the success which attended the selection of a name for the plane,Carson gave Tim free rein in writing stories of the good will air tourwhich was to start from Prairie City, the state capital, and finish atAtkinson. Tim, by dint of much correspondence, persuaded the officialsin charge of the tour to bring it to a close at Atkinson instead ofgoing back to Prairie City. The chamber of commerce woke up to thepossibilities of the air tour. Tim was frequently consulted and the Newsoccupied a prominent place in the preliminary arrangements.
The day before Tim was to start for Prairie City to join the air tour,Carson called him to his desk.
"Better take Ralph with you," he suggested. "He can relieve you of theburden of writing a lot of the stories and can also help you inpiloting. I'll have him take a high speed camera and he may be able toget some good action pictures of planes in the clouds."
Tim welcomed the suggestion that Ralph accompany him for there would beplenty for two reporters to do and the managing editor had indicatedthat he wanted the tour fully covered. That would mean two or threecolumns of news a day in addition to about 250 miles in the air with anaverage of four stops a day for each of the five days on the tour.
When Tim and Ralph reached the airport the next morning ready to startfor Prairie City, the state capital and starting point for the good willtour, they found Kurt Blandin waiting for them.
"Hello Murphy," greeted the head of the Ace flying circus. "Littlesurprised to see me?"
"Why, yes, Blandin," admitted Tim. "You're more or less of a lone wolfand a stranger at this field."
"Right," smiled Blandin and in spite of himself, Tim couldn't helpliking the other for the moment. "I'm entering a plane in the tour andsince you fellows were going, thought you'd better know my flyer."Blandin called to a slightly built man who had been working over themotor of a nearby biplane.
"I want you to know Daredevil Dugan," said Blandin when the other flyerjoined them. Ralph and Tim acknowledged the introduction but Tim felt aninstant wave of dislike for Dugan. The air circus flyer who was going onthe tour was short of stature, with a peaked face and eyes that shiftedconstantly. There was no question about Dugan's ability as a flyer forhe had a reputation as a daredevil, but there might easily be somequestion about his ethics.
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bsp; "I'd like to make the trip," said Blandin, "but I have to ride herd onthe bunch of flying lunatics I've got over at my own field. Let themalone and they might decide to make a raid on the treasury."
"I'm not so sure they wouldn't get away with it," added Tim. He wassurprised at the effect his words had for Blandin's face clouded with asudden fury that shook his entire body.
"What do you know about my outfit?" he said hoarsely.
"Nothing," admitted Tim. "But I'd like to know a whole lot more."
With that he turned and walked over to the Good News.
"Why did you stir Blandin up like that?" asked Ralph.
"I honestly don't know," replied Tim. "Maybe it hasn't got me anywhereand maybe it has." He glanced toward the plane Blandin was entering inthe air tour and saw the head of the flying circus talking with Dugan."One thing, though," he added, "I'm going to keep my eyes on Dugan."
When Tim and Ralph landed the Good News at Prairie City, they foundthirty-one other flyers and planes registered for the tour. One side ofthe big field was lined with the heavier-than-air craft. At one end asport monoplane was almost lost under the wings of a giant tri-motor andthere were cabin planes of almost every type represented. The planeswere classified in three groups according to the displacement of theirmotors but that arrangement did not affect the Good News for Tim andRalph were not competing for the prizes offered to the flyers with thebest elapsed time in each class.
They secured a complete list of the flyers and their planes, dug upinteresting bits about the famous pilots in the tour, and dispatchedtheir stories to the News that night.
The morning for the start of the state's first air tour was bright andclear, with a soft May wind out of the south; a veteran air man by thename of "Spin" Beeker, gave the pilots their final instructions and thenwaved them off the field at one minute intervals.
The air was alive with the throbbing of motors, now low, then rising toa crescendo as each pilot tested his plane, then gunned it hard for thetakeoff. The Good News was No. 18 in the starting order and Tim speddown the field and into the air on the first lap of the five day tour.
The first night found them at Rollins, a crowded factory town, with 325miles and three other stops, behind them. The first day had beensuccessful without even a motor failure reported for any one of the 32planes.
On the second day one plane threw a connecting rod through its crankcaseand was forced down in a corn field while on the third day another pilotwashed out his landing gear when he came down on the field at Marion.
The noon stop on the fourth day was made at Newton where the flyers weregiven a reception and dinner in the hangar at the airport. They werelate in getting away for the two afternoon hops and Beeker was sendingthem away at half minute intervals. When he waved his flag at Tim, theflying reporter opened up his throttle and sent the Good News scootingdown the field. The sound of another motor, near at hand, drew Tim'sattention for a moment.
Some pilot, evidently mistaking Beeker's signal for his own, wasspeeding down the field for a takeoff. Evidently he had not seen Tim forin another second their courses would converge. Tim, acting by instinct,pulled his stick back hard and at the same time jammed the throttle tothe end of its arc.
It was a risky thing to do but he fairly jerked his plane off theground. The Good News shot skyward, then settled rapidly, but Timleveled off and after a shaky moment, was heading for the next controlpoint. He had fairly hopped his plane over the other ship. It had been amaster bit of flying.
Tim was unable to identify the other plane and it was not until theylanded at Beldon, the night stop, that he learned the name of its pilot.
Tim and Ralph had hardly climbed from their plane when "Daredevil"Dugan, accosted them with bitter words.
"Whoever told you two pencil pushers you could fly," he cried. "What doyou think this is, a game of Washington tag? You came mighty nearwrecking me back there at Newton."
Dugan's attitude angered Tim, who felt that he was in no way responsiblefor the mixup which had occurred at the noon control station. Before hecould answer someone else joined in the party.
"What's this you're saying, Dugan?" The voice was cold with sarcasm and"Daredevil" Dugan swung around to face "Spin" Beeker, the head judge."Don't you think you'd better pull in your oars," continued Beeker."I've a good mind to disqualify you for that stunt you pulled back atNewton. Trying to blame these boys, are you? Not while 'Spin' Beeker'sjudging this tour, you won't."
"You deliberately jumped your flag," he accused Dugan, "and if Tim saysyou go out, out you go. What do you say, Tim?"
Tim knew that Dugan had a good chance to win first prize in the Class Cdivision for small planes and the call down the field judge had giventhe "Daredevil" more than satisfied him for the injustice he felt fromDugan's accusation.
"Oh, that's all over now, Mr. Beeker," said Tim. "Only amisunderstanding and it's better to forget all about it."
"Just as you say," agreed the head judge, as he turned back to Dugan,but the Daredevil was already on his way.
Tim watched Dugan as he hurried toward a waiting car. Was it possiblethat the Daredevil had deliberately attempted to crash them? Histhoughts flashed back to the scene at the Atkinson airport and his wordswith Blandin. Could the boss of the flying circus have instructed Duganto get them? It was a question Tim himself couldn't answer and hedecided to let things take their course after promising himself that hewould keep a closer watch than ever on Dugan.
On the final day of the air tour, Tim, in recognition for his work inpromoting the big aviation day at Atkinson, was given the lead-offposition and he swept away from the Beldon airport at the head of thecaravan of thirty planes.
When familiar scenes again came into view and Tim sighted the field atAtkinson, he was astounded at the size of the crowd which had gatheredto see the end of the tour. Every side of the field was jammed withcars, parked row on row, and police and national guardsmen were hard putto keep the milling thousands from sweeping on to the landing field.
Tim had pushed his plane hard and was nearly ten minutes ahead of theothers. To keep the interest of the crowd he stunted over the field,looping, falling and zooming in manoeuvres that had the crowd gaspingfor breath. When he saw the first of the planes in the tour heading infrom the west, he nosed down for the field.
Ping! For a second Tim did not realize what had happened. Ralph, in theforward cockpit, had heard the noise and he looked around at the flyingreporter. Tim wiggled his stick and it was then that he discovered theirpredicament. The main control wire to the ailerons on the left wing hadparted and was dangling from the wing. By rare good luck the Good Newshad been in an easy dive when the accident occurred and had leveled offof its own accord.
Below, Tim could see the banked masses of humanity. They'd come out fora thrill, had they? Well, they'd get it but he didn't dare risk acrackup in the crowd. The slogan all through the tour had been to playsafe and now here he was up better than 3,000 feet and with a slimchance of getting down alive.
Ralph had sensed what they were up against and was staring back, thecolor drained from his face. Tim wondered what his own face looked like.Probably he was just as white as Ralph for he was sure enough up againstit. What irony! After spending days promoting the aviation day to markthe close of the air tour, then an accident like this. If he could onlyget his hands on that strand of loose wire he might be able to get theship down after all.
Tim motioned to Ralph, who leaned back until the flying reporter couldmake his shouts understood. Ralph's eyes got as big as cart wheels andhis mouth dropped open but he nodded and took a firm grip on his nerve.
Carefully the two men in the little plane started to move. Tim thankedhis lucky stars that Ralph was a competent flyer and he was ready tobless his managing editor for his foresight in having another reportertrained as an aviator.
To the 25,000 packed around the airport it was something new in the wayof thrills. To Tim and Ralph it meant taking their lives on luck andconsummate ne
rve for they had sacrificed their parachutes to make roomfor their baggage on the five day tour. Tim edged forward and Ralph slidback. In less than a minute they had exchanged places and Ralph wasgiving the plane an easy rudder to swing it back toward the airport.
Tim stretched his six feet of muscular body over the side of the forwardcockpit as Ralph headed for the field. His nerves were remarkably calm;he felt sure he could accomplish the task before him.
Tim swung both legs over the side of the cockpit. Ralph had throttledthe motor down as slow as he dared but even then the blast of air fromthe propeller tore at Tim. The flying reporter anchored his right footin the step in the fuselage while his right hand was locked in thesafety belt which was too short to go around his body as he swung fromthe side of the ship.
The broken aileron wire dangled tantalizingly from the wing. Tim gaugedhis distance and thrust an outstretched hand to grasp it. The wire wasjust beyond his reach!