Helen in the Editor's Chair

  CHAPTER XII _Special Assignment_

  The enlarged edition of the _Herald_ attracted so much comment and praisefrom the readers that Tom and Helen felt well repaid for their additionalefforts. Tom sat down and figured out the profit, deducted all expenses,and announced that they had made $78 on the edition, which, they agreed,was a figure they should strive to reach each week.

  "If we can keep that up," commented Tom, "we'll be sitting on top of theworld."

  "But if we were only an official county paper we'd have the moon, too,"Helen said.

  They discussed the pros and cons of getting enough additional circulationto beat the _Auburn Advocate_ and the danger of arousing the anger ofBurr Atwell, its publisher.

  "We don't need to make a big campaign for subscriptions," argued Helen."We've taken the biggest step right now--improving and expanding theamount of local and country reading matter. Whenever I have an extraafternoon this summer I'll drive out in the country and see if I can'tget some people who haven't been subscribers to take our paper."

  Tom agreed with Helen's suggestion and that very afternoon they took theold family touring car, filled it with gas and oil, and ambled throughthe countryside. Tom had a list of farmers who were non-subscribers andbefore the afternoon was over they had added half a dozen new names tothe _Herald's_ circulation list. In addition, they had obtained at leastone item of farm news at every place they stopped.

  "I call that a good afternoon's work," Helen commented when they drovethe ancient flivver into the garage at home.

  "Not bad at all," Tom agreed. "Only, we'll keep quiet about ourcirculation activities. No use to stir up Burr Atwell until he finds itout for himself, which will be soon enough."

  The remaining weeks of June passed uneventfully. The days were bright andwarm with the softness of early summer and the countryside was green witha richness that only the middle west knows. Helen devoted the first partof each week to getting news in Rolfe and on Fridays and Saturdays tookthe old car and rambled through the countryside, stopping at farmhousesto make new friends for the _Herald_ and gather news for the farm page.The revenue of the paper was increasing rapidly and they rejoiced at theencouraging news which was coming from their father.

  The Fourth of July that year came on Saturday, which meant a two daycelebration for Rolfe and the summer resorts on Lake Dubar. Specialtrains would be routed in over the railroad and the boats on the lakewould do a rushing business.

  The managers of Crescent Beach and Sandy Point planned big programs fortheir resorts and ordered full page bills to be distributed throughoutthat section of the state. The county seat papers had usually obtainedthese large job printing orders but by carefully figuring, Tom put in thelowest bids.

  Kirk Foster, the manager of Crescent Beach, ordered five thousand posterswhile Art Provost, the owner of Sandy Point, ordered twenty thousand.Crescent Beach catered to a smaller and more exclusive type of summervisitors while Sandy Point welcomed everyone to its large and hospitablebeach.

  There was not much composition for the posters but the printing requiredhours and it seemed to Helen that the old press rattled continuously forthe better part of three days as Tom fed sheet after sheet of paper intothe ancient machine. The wonder of it was that they had no breakdowns andthe bills were printed and delivered on time.

  "All of which means," said Tom when he had finished, "that we've added aclear profit of $65 to our bank account."

  "If we keep on at this rate," Helen added, "we'll have ample to take careof Dad when he needs more money."

  "And he'll be needing it sometime this fall," Tom said slowly. "Geewhizz, but it sure does cost to be in one of those sanitariums. Lucky wecould step in and take hold here for Dad."

  "We owe him more than we'll ever repay," said Helen, "and the experiencewe're getting now will be invaluable. We're working hard but we find timeto do the things we like."

  Helen planned special stories for the edition just before the Fourth andvisited the managers of both resorts to get their complete programs forthe day.

  Kirk Foster at Crescent Beach explained that there would be nothingunusual there except the special display of night fireworks but ArtProvost over at Sandy Point had engaged a line of free attractions thatwould rival any small circus. Besides the usual boating and bathing,there would be free acts by aerialists, a high dive by a girl into asmall tank of water, half a dozen clowns to entertain the children, afree band concert both afternoon and evening, two ball games and inaddition to the merry-go-round on the grounds there would be a ferriswheel and several other "thrill" rides brought in for the Fourth.

  "You ought to have a great crowd," said Helen.

  "Goin' to be mighty disappointed if I don't," said the old resortmanager. "Plannin' a regular rip-snorter of a day. No admission to thegrounds, but Boy! it'll cost by the time they leave."

  "Going to double the prices of everything?" asked Helen.

  "Nope. Goin' to have so many things for folks to do they'll spendeverything they got before they leave."

  "In that case," replied Helen, "I see where I stay at home. I'm anotorious spendthrift when it comes to celebrating the Fourth."

  "I should say you're not goin' to stay home," said Mr. Provost. "You andyour mother and Tom are goin' to be my guests. I've got your passes allfilled out. Swim, ride in the boats, dance, roller skate, see the ballgames, enjoy any of the 'thrill rides' you want to. Won't cost you acent."

  "But I can't accept them," protested Helen. "We'll pay if we come down.Besides, we didn't give you all of those bills for nothing."

  "Seemed mighty near nothin' compared with the prices all the otherprinters in the county wanted," smiled Mr. Provost. "You've been downevery week writin' items about the folks who come here and, believe me, Iappreciate it. These passes are just a little return of the courtesyyou've shown me this summer."

  "When you put it that way, I can scarcely refuse them," laughed Helen.

  "As a matter of fact," she added, "I wanted them terribly for we honestlycouldn't afford to come otherwise."

  When Helen returned to the office she told Tom about the passes and heagreed that acceptance of them would not place the _Herald_ underobligation to the resort owner.

  "I always thought old man Provost a pretty good scout," he said, "but Ihardly expected him to do this. And say, these passes are good for bothSaturday and Sunday. What a break!"

  "If we see everything Saturday we'll be so tired we won't want to go backSunday," Helen said. "Besides, Mother has some pretty strong ideas onSunday celebrations."

  The telephone rang and Helen hastened into the editorial office toanswer.

  She talked rapidly for several minutes, jotting down notes on a pad ofscratch paper. When she had finished, she hurried back into the composingroom.

  "Tom," she cried, "that was Mr. Provost calling."

  "Did he cancel the passes?"

  "I should say not. He called to say he had just received a telegram fromthe Ace Flying Circus saying it would be at Sandy Point to do stuntflying and carry passengers for the Fourth of July celebration."

  "Why so excited about that? We've had flying circuses here before."

  "Yes, I know, Tom, but 'Speed' Rand is in charge of the Ace outfit thisyear."

  "'Speed' Rand!" whistled Tom. "Well, I should say that was different.That's news. Why Rand's the man who flew from Tokyo to Seattle all alone.Other fellows had done it in teams but Rand is the only one to go solo.He's big news in all of the dailies right now. Everyone is wondering whatdaredevil stunt he'll do next."

  "He's very good looking and awfully rich," smiled Helen.

  "Flies just for fun," added Tom. "With all of the oil land he's got hedoesn't have to worry about work. Tell you what, I'll write to the_Cranston Chronicle_ and see if they'll send us a cut of Rand. It wouldlook fine on the front page of this week's issue."

  "Oh," exclaimed Helen "I almost forgot the most important part of Mr.Provost's cal
l. He wants you to get out 10,000 half page bills on the AceFlying Circus. Here are the notes. He said for you to write the bill andrun them off as soon as you can."

  The order for the bills put Tom behind on his work with the paper and itwas late Thursday afternoon before Helen started folding that week'sissue. But they didn't mind being late. The bill order from Sandy Pointhad meant another piece of profitable job work and Mr. Provost had alsotaken a half page in the _Herald_ to advertise the coming of his mainattraction for the Fourth. Mrs. Blair came down to help with the foldingand Margaret Stevens, just back from a vacation in the north woods withher father, arrived in time to lend a hand.

  "Nice trip?" Helen asked as she deftly folded the printed sheets.

  "Wonderful," smiled Margaret, "but I'm glad to get back. I missed helpingyou and Tom. Honestly, I get a terrific thrill out of reporting."

  "We're glad to have you back," replied Helen, "and I think Mr. Provostdown at Sandy Point will be glad to give me an extra pass for the Fourth.I'll tell him you're our star reporter."

  "I'd rather go to Crescent Beach for the Fourth," said Margaret. "It'snewer and much more ritzy than Sandy Point."

  "You'd better stop and look at the front page carefully," warned Tom, whohad shut off the press just in time to hear Margaret's words.

  She stopped folding papers long enough to read the type under the twocolumn picture on the front page.

  "What!" she exclaimed, "'Speed' Rand coming here?"

  "None other and none such," laughed Tom. "Guaranteed to be the one andonly 'Speed' Rand. Step right this way folks for your airplane tickets.Five dollars for five minutes. See the beauty of Lake Dubar from the air.Don't crowd, please."

  "Do you still want me to get a pass?" Helen asked. "It will be honoredany place at Sandy Point during the celebration and Mr. Provost says wecan all have rides with the air circus 'Speed' Rand is running."

  "I should say I do want a pass," said Margaret. "At least it's someadvantage to being a newspaper woman besides just the fun of it."

  The famous Ace air circus of half a dozen planes roared over Rolfe justbefore sunset Friday night and the whole town turned out to see them andtry to identify the plane which "Speed" Rand was flying.

  The air circus was flying in two sections, three fast, trim littlebiplanes that led the way, followed by three large cabin planes used forpassenger carrying. Every ship was painted a brilliant scarlet and theylooked like tongues of flames darting through the sky, the afternoon sunglinting on their wings.

  The air circus swung over Rolfe in a wide circle and the leading planedropped down out of the sky, its motor roaring so loud the windows in thehouses rattled in their frames.

  "He's going to crash!" cried Margaret.

  "Nothing of the kind," shouted Tom, who had read widely of planes andpilots and flying maneuvers. "That's just a power dive--fancy flying."

  Tom was right. When the scarlet biplane seemed headed for certaindestruction the pilot pulled its nose up, levelled off, shot over Rolfeat dizzying speed and then climbed his craft back toward the fleecy, lazywhite clouds.

  "That's Rand," announced Tom with a certainty that left no room forargument. "He's always up to stunts like that."

  "It must be awfully dangerous," said Helen as she watched the plane, nowa mere speck in the sky.

  "It is," agreed Tom. "Everything depends on the motor in a dive likethat. If it started to miss some editor would have to write thatparticular flyer's obituary."

  The morning of Saturday, the Fourth, dawned clear and bright. Small boyswhose idea of fun was to arise at four o'clock and spend the next twohours throwing cannon crackers under windows had their usual good timeand Tom and Helen, unable to sleep, were up at six o'clock. Half an hourlater Margaret Stevens, also awakened by the almost continuouscannonading of firecrackers, came across the street.

  "Jim Preston is going to take us down the lake on his seven-thirty tripbefore the special trains and the big crowds start coming in," said Tom.

  "But I'd like to see the trains come in," protested Helen.

  "If we wait until then," explained Tom, "we'll be caught in the thick ofthe rush for the boats and we may never get to Sandy Point. We'd bettertake the seven-thirty boat."

  From the hill on which the Blair home stood they looked down on the shoreof Lake Dubar with its half dozen boat landings, each with two or threemotorboats awaiting the arrival of the first special excursion train.

  Mrs. Blair called them to breakfast and they were getting up to go insidewhen Margaret's exclamation drew their attention back to the lake.

  "Am I seeing things or is that the old _Queen_?" she asked, pointing downthe lake.

  Tom and Helen looked in the direction she pointed. An old, double deckedboat, smoke rolling from its lofty, twin funnels, was churning its way upthe lake.

  "We may all be seeing things," cried Tom, "but it looks like the _Queen_.I thought she had been condemned by the steamboat inspectors as unfit forfurther service."

  "The news that 'Speed' Rand is going to be at Sandy Point is bringinghundreds more than the railroad expected," said Helen. "I talked with thestation agent last night and they have four specials scheduled in thismorning and they usually only have two."

  "If they vote the paved roads at the special election next week,"commented Tom, "the railroad will lose a lot of summer travel. As it isnow, folks almost have to come by train for the slightest rain turns theroads around here into swamps and they can't run the risk of beingmarooned here for several days."

  The _Queen_ puffed sedately toward shore. They heard the clang of bellsin the engine room and the steady chouf-chouf of the exhaust cease. Thesmoke drifted lazily from the funnels. Bells clanged again and the paddlewheel at the stern went into the back motion, churning the water intowhite froth. The forward speed of the _Queen_ was checked and the bigdouble-decker nosed into its pier.

  "There's old Capt. Billy Tucker sticking his white head out of the pilothouse," said Tom. "He's probably put a few new planks in the _Queen's_rotten old hull and gotten another O. K. from the boat inspectors. But ifthat old tub ever hits anything, the whole bottom will cave in and she'llsink in five minutes."

  "That's not a very cheerful Fourth of July idea," said Margaret. "Comeon, let's eat. Your mother called us hours ago."

  They had finished breakfast and were leaving the table when Mrs. Blairspoke.

  "I've decided not to go down to Sandy Point with you," she said. "Thecrowd will be so large I'm afraid I wouldn't enjoy it very much."

  "But we've planned on your going, Mother," said Helen.

  "I'm sorry to disappoint you," smiled her mother, "but Margaret's motherand I will spend the day on the hill here. We'll be able to see theaerial circus perform and really we'll enjoy a quiet day here at homemore than being in the crowd."

  "It won't be very quiet if those kids keep on shooting giant crackers,"said Tom.

  "They'll be going to the celebration in another hour or two and thenthings will quiet down," said Mrs. Blair.

  "How about a plane ride if the circus has time to take us?" asked Tom.

  Helen saw her mother tremble at Tom's question, but she replied quickly.

  "That's up to you, Tom. You know more about planes than I do and ifyou're convinced the flying circus is safe, I have no objection." ButHelen made a mental reservation that the planes would have to look mightysafe before any of them went aloft.

  They hurried down the hill to the pier which Jim Preston used. Theboatman and his helpers had just finished polishing the three speed boatsPreston owned, the _Argosy_, the _Liberty_ and the _Flyer_, which hadbeen raised from the bottom of the lake and partially rebuilt.

  "All ready for the big day?" asked the genial boatman.

  "We're shy a few hours sleep," grinned Tom. "Those cannon crackersstarted about four o'clock but outside of that we're all pepped up andready to go."

  "About three or four years ago," reminded the boatman, "you used to begallivantin' around town with a pocketf
ul of those big, red crackers atsun-up. Guess you can't complain a whole lot now."

  Tom admitted that he really couldn't complain and they climbed into the_Liberty_.

  "I'm takin' some last minute supplies down to the hotel at Sandy Point,"said the boatman, "so we won't wait for anyone else."

  He switched on the starter and the boat quivered as the powerful motortook hold. They were backing away from the pier when the pilot of one ofthe other boats shouted for them to stop.

  A boy was running down Main Street, waving a yellow envelope in his hand.

  Jim Preston nosed the _Liberty_ back to the pier and the boy ran onto thedock.

  "Telegram for you," he told Helen. "It's a rush message and I just had toget it to you."

  "Thanks a lot," replied Helen. "Are there any charges?"

  "Nope. Message is prepaid."

  Helen ripped open the envelope with nervous fingers. Who could be sendingher a telegram? Was there anything wrong with her father? No, thatcouldn't be it for her mother would have received the message.

  She unfolded the single sheet of yellow paper and read the telegraphoperator's bold scrawl.

  "To: Helen Blair, _The Herald_, Rolfe. Understand 'Speed' Rand is atRolfe for two days. Have rumor his next flight will be an attemptednon-stop refueling flight around the world. See Rand at once and try forconfirmation of rumor. Telephone as soon as possible. McClintock, TheAP."

  Helen turned to Tom and Margaret.

  "I'm to interview 'Speed' Rand for the Associated Press," she exclaimed."Let's go!"