THE MISSING AVIATORS
Slim Tyler smothered the bitterness at his heart as well as he could
and continued his reading of the letter.
Cameron Flood, Jr., the lawyer went on to explain, had inherited a
claim for a large amount against the Mt. Sunwa Lumber Company and a
certain Nathaniel Shaley, who seemed to have been the leading figure
in the concern.
There had been some grave irregularity and probably actual crime
attending the winding up of the company, the writer stated. In fact,
Cameron Flood, Senior, had been about to take up the cudgels in a
contest that would undoubtedly have had sensational features when
death put an end to his activities.
"All very interesting, but not much use to me, now that I won't be
able to get in touch with the younger Flood for many months to come,"
sighed Slim. "Talk about getting the hot end of the poker! I've got
nothing else but."
Depression was a frequent guest of Slim Tyler in the days that
followed. From the papers he learned that two scientists, one of
them Flood, had joined the expedition in upper Canada.
There the _Flying Cloud_ had laid up for a couple of days for
refueling and supplies.
Then came the news that Dave Boyd and his party had left Canada and
embarked on the last and most perilous lap of the journey to the
uncharted wastes of Greenland.
Up to that time good weather had been the rule. But now the public,
eagerly following the course of the flight by means of the newspapers
and radio, learned that the plane was meeting with inclement flying
conditions.
Snow and hail and terrible winds prevailed in the regions of the air
through which the _Flying Cloud_ was painfully forcing its way.
Slim Tyler and Jerry Marbury devouring every scrap of information
they could get, agonized together over the possible fate of the
flyers.
"Under such weather conditions it's wonderful that the plane could
have stayed in the air so long," observed Jerry.
"No one but Dave Boyd could have managed it," said Slim loyally.
Jerry shook his head dubiously.
"Even Dave Boyd can't keep aloft much longer with such odds against
him. A forced landing among the ice-coated mountains of Greenland--"
he did not finish the sentence, but in his eyes was the premonition
of disaster.
A day later a screaming headline in the press informed the public
that what it had been dreading had probably occurred.
No word had been received from the Boyd plane for eighteen hours!
This fact, coupled with the increased severity of the weather
conditions in the region where the plane had last been heard of, gave
rise to the most dire prophecies. In all probability, it was
generally thought, the plane had been forced down among the mountain
gorges of the desolate land, in which event the situation of the
members of the expedition was, to say the least, of the utmost
gravity.
With the paper in his hand that gave the disheartening report, Slim
Tyler dashed into Jerry's room.
"Look here, old boy!" he exclaimed. "This is rotten news."
"Couldn't be much worse," agreed Jerry gloomily.
He also had been studying the paper.
"Of course the papers may be all wrong," went on Slim, with a
desperate effort at optimism. "Because no news has come from the
_Flying Cloud_ for many hours, they've jumped at conclusions. It may
be only that something has gone wrong with the radio."
Jerry looked at his chum curiously.
"I guess you should have read on a little farther, Slim. It says
here that two trappers report that they saw a giant plane flying over
Greenland, that she seemed to be in distress and was trying to make a
landing among the mountains. Didn't you see that?"
Slim shook his head.
"It isn't in my paper. Let me see yours."
The story of the Greenland trappers added to the anxiety that had
taken possession of Slim Tyler as to the fate of the man whom he
cared for most in all the world.
He put down the paper and looked at Jerry.
"When Dave Boyd took me up," he said, "I was nothing but a poor
homeless kid, battered about from pillar to post, with hardly a cent
to my name and no future to boast about. Dave Boyd gave me a chance
to make something of myself."
"You've more than justified the faith he put in you," returned Jerry.
"That doesn't change the fact that I owe everything to him," Slim
persisted. "I tell you, Jerry, if we don't get good news of the
plane within the next few days, I'm going after him."
Jerry grinned and thrust out his hand.
"Take me with you, kid?"
"You bet," replied Slim, and they shook hands on it.
Days passed with no news whatever of Dave Boyd and his expedition.
The worst was feared and there was much talk about sending out
searching planes for the missing flyers.
Then Slim Tyler leaped to the front. He came out boldly with the
announcement that he and Jerry Marbury were anxious to go in search
of the _Flying Cloud_ and its occupants, and asked for a plane and
funds to finance the relief expedition.
The response was immediate, and it astonished Slim by its enthusiasm.
Nothing could demonstrate better the position Dave Boyd held in the
hearts of his countrymen than the promptness with which funds began
to pour in from all parts of the nation.
Money was collected by newspapers in the great cities. A plane of
the newest type and possessing all the latest mechanical improvements
was presented to Slim by one of the largest plane manufacturers in
the country.
Slim Tyler himself flew the plane from the Mid-Western manufacturing
town to North Elmwood.
He landed amid a heavy downpour of rain, which, however, did not
deter a large crowd from assembling to greet him. They pressed close
about the beautiful plane and the daring pilot who was about to
undertake such a perilous adventure.
Jerry Marbury shoved his way through to Slim's side. His eyes were
shining.
"She's a peach, boy! What are we going to name her?"
"The _Hope_," said Slim.
He regarded Jerry steadily and the two young men gripped hands.
"We've got a new recruit," stated Jerry, as, after the plane had been
put in its hangar, they started across the field together. "He wants
to go on the relief flight with us. I like him and I think you will,
too. Suppose you take a squint at him."
"Sure," agreed Slim. "Where is he?"
"Over at Leslie's boarding house. He has taken a room there. He
says whether he goes with us or not, he's bound to see the start of
the expedition. He's a nice chap, and I think he may make himself
useful to us."
At the door of the boarding house they ran into Dick Mylert, the
young man in question, who was just coming out.
"Hello!" the latter exclaimed, staring. "Slim Tyler, isn't it? Just
the man I want to see."
"Ditto," said Slim smilingly.
"Two souls with but a single thought," grinned Mylert cheerfully.
"We ought to get along famously together. Come right in," and he led
the way into the sitting room.
"Not beautiful," he said, with a glance around the plainly furnished
room, "but clean and comfortable. The hotel was crowded and I had to
put up here. Anyway, the landlady serves real butter with meals."
"That's a help," remarked Slim.
"You tell 'em. Now to get down to brass tacks. Do I get a chance to
go along with you and Mr. Marbury here on your relief expedition to
Greenland?"
"Shouldn't wonder," returned Slim, who had taken an immediate liking
to the breezy young fellow. "If you'll just tell me----"
"Sure. You want to know my qualifications for the job. To start
with, I'm a newspaper reporter on--" He named the great New York
paper that had been chiefly instrumental in raising the funds for the
expedition. "I'm white, unmarried, twenty-eight, and have never been
convicted of a crime, although traffic cops have sometimes spoken
harshly to me."
Following this unconventional self-introduction, Mylert became a bit
more serious and gave Slim and Jerry a brief but comprehensive
description of his activities up to date. The more he talked, the
more Slim liked him.
It appeared that he had had a most varied experience. He had
traveled over a great part of the world, sometimes as a sailor before
the mast, at others as assistant navigator; had been with a
scientific expedition as a geographer; and was conversant with a
number of languages. He had even tried flying for a while before
settling on a newspaper career.
"So you see I'm qualified in more ways than one to be of use to you
on your expedition," the young man remarked. "By the way, I have
papers here to prove my statements--if you need any other proof than
my open and ingenuous countenance," he ended with a grin.
As a matter of form, Slim looked over the credentials that Mylert
handed him. Then he turned them over to Jerry.
"Your open and ingenuous countenance is a good reference," laughed
Slim. "But these others seem to be all right, and as far as I am
concerned clinch the matter. What do you say, Jerry?"
"It's all right with me," said Jerry heartily. "If it's O.K. with
you, Slim, Mr. Mylert will be the third member of the party without
any further argument."
"O.K. with me," assented Slim.
The three young men shook hands gravely. Dick Mylert beamed
gratification.
"I've always had a terrific admiration for Dave Boyd," he confessed.
"When you boys started plans for this relief expedition I had a
yearning to go that I couldn't resist. Glad you fellows like me, for
I've certainly taken a shine to you."
This important detail settled, preparations for the flight went on
with great rapidity. The young aviators kept hoping that every day
would bring them news of Boyd's safety and make their trip
unnecessary.
But nothing of the kind occurred. Not a signal came from the Arctic
wastes to tell that the intrepid adventurers lived.
Slim and Jerry worked day and night with a force of helpers, and in
an incredibly short space of time the _Hope_ was ready for her flight.
"To-morrow," said Slim, two nights later, "we make our start."
"The weather prophecies from Washington are good," observed Jerry.
"That doesn't hurt any."
"It isn't the weather here that bothers me much," replied Slim.
"It's what we may run into farther north."
The next day justified the optimistic weather prophecies. The sky
was a uniform bright blue. There was no suggestion of fog or
threatened storm.
The three members of the relief expedition were in a mood of hope to
match the name of the plane. They were eager to be off, and grudged
the time that was taken up by the persistent reporters and
photographers, all anxious to get stories and pictures for their
papers.
There was a confused sound of altercation on the edge of the crowd.
Slim Tyler heard a familiar voice.
"I toldt you I got somedings for him alretty. Gif me der room to get
dere vonst."
Slim chuckled and faced about as Carl Stummel shoved his way through
the crowd.
"Blenty hot togs, alretty," panted Carl, as he handed Slim a large
paper bundle. "Cooked shoost der vay you like dem, mit blenty oof
mustard. Vere you're going you might maybe haf a hardt dime getting
sooch goot vuns, yes?"
"There aren't such good ones anywhere," declared Slim, as he accepted
the gift. "Your mustard is hot enough to keep us warm even in
Greenland."
"If dey last dot long, den I am a bum cook, alretty," replied Carl.
"I betcher dey vill be et before dis night koomt. Goot luck, Shlim!
Und bring back dot Dave Boydt."