The good will planes were swarming in from the west. In another minute
there would be a dozen of them circling over the airport and with his
own ship able to manoeuvre with only the greatest difficulty, Tim knew
that the arrival of the other planes would add more complications to
their plight.
The Good News was wavering unsteadily. At any moment it might slide into
a spin in spite of all that Ralph could do to keep it on an even keel.
Then it would be curtains! But not if Tim could help it. He was
determined to reach the dangling wire if it was humanly possible.
The flying reporter started his body swinging. Ralph screamed at him for
the Good News was careening from side to side. But Tim kept on, his body
swinging out from the side of the plane like a great pendulum, its
swings ever lengthening.
Tim clutched at the broken wire; missed by inches. The next time he'd
make it. He had to, he told himself, for every second was precious. They
couldn't smash up in the crowd below. He swung again, his fingers
outstretched in an effort that wrenched every muscle in his body. He
touched the dangling wire, but it slipped through his hand. Then a
movement of the plane placed it within his reach again and he gripped
the wire between his finger-tips. He heard Ralph's triumphant shout as
he tightened his grasp on the wire and felt the plane nose downward, but
the world was dancing before his eyes. The strain was intense as he hung
on like grim death, his left hand holding and controlling the aileron
wire, his other hand and foot anchored to the fuselage.
Down they circled, Tim mechanically manipulating the aileron. Truly he
was "riding down" from the clouds. He'd read about it being in the war
but had hardly believed it possible. Now he was actually accomplishing
the feat and getting away with it--maybe. They weren't down yet. Could
Ralph turn the trick and make a safe landing? It would require real
skill and a keen judgment of distance and speed.
Tim glanced back at his chum and Ralph nodded reassuringly. He knew as
well as Tim that if he landed too hard Tim would be bounced off the
plane and even an Irishman, and a reporter at that, doesn't like to be
thrown from a plane landing at a speed of seventy miles an hour.
Ralph straightened out and headed for the field. Tim steadied himself
and uttered a prayer as they dropped closer to the ground. They were
over the edge of the field and nosing down fast. Tim glanced at the
crowd--a sea of upturned faces. He gave the aileron a final jerk and
shut his eyes.
Bang! Crash! Bump! And they were down. The shock of the rough landing
threw Tim against the fuselage and he clung there like a plaster. Ralph
managed to taxi the Good News across the field and brought it up in
front of the announcer's stand and they tumbled down. Above them the sky
was alive with planes. They had turned the trick just in time.
Before the crowds surrounded them and swept them toward the announcer's
stand, Tim had a second to examine the aileron wire. The break was
clean-cut; no frayed ends to indicate an accident due to normal wear and
tear. The only thing that could have caused a break like that was a
sharp file wielded by spiteful hands.
Tim was so mad he couldn't talk but by the time they found their
managing editor, he had cooled down somewhat. They explained what had
happened and then Tim swept Ralph off his feet when he told Carson about
his discovery of the filed wire.
"I'm not going to accuse anyone right now," said the flying reporter,
his eyes pin points of anger, "But when 'Daredevil' Dugan lands he's
going to tell me what I want to know or he'll get the worst beating he
ever had." And Tim, moved by emotion, looked fully capable of carrying
out his threat.
Tim and Ralph were called to the announcer's stand where they were
introduced to the crowd and the master of ceremonies briefly related how
they had ridden down from the clouds. A great roar of applause swept
over the crowd and Tim was genuinely embarrassed at the ovation.
As soon as they could get away, Tim and Ralph slid out of the stand, and
lost themselves in the crowd.
"Have you seen Dugan land?" asked Tim.
"He came in about five minutes ago and is well down toward the other end
of the field," replied Ralph. "He's slated to do his daredevil stuff
right away so we'll have to hurry if we want to catch him."
They made slow progress through the packed mass of humanity and were not
more than halfway down the field when the loud speakers blared out an
announcement.
"Ladies and gentlemen," boomed the metallic voice, "you will now see
'Daredevil' Dugan, the prince of thrills, in an aerial exhibition which
is without peer."
"It'll be an exhibition without peer when I get my hands on Dugan,"
muttered Tim as he heard the motor of the Daredevil's plane come to
life. There was no chance of reaching Dugan before he started so Tim and
Ralph crowded their way to front line places.
Dugan's little biplane shot down the field. The tail flipped into the
air and the under carriage sailed clear. Then Dugan bounced his ship up
and down as he sped alone, never more than five feet above the ground.
It was old stuff but mighty dangerous, especially if the motor failed.
The crowd was yelling and milling excitedly as Dugan's plane neared the
fence on the far boundary. Tim wondered how long Dugan would wait before
he nosed his ship up. Then he caught his breath for the daredevil was
living up to his name.
The biplane shot skyward but Dugan had waited a fraction of a second too
long. There was the sharp crashing of wood and to the crowd's amazement
and horror, Dugan left his landing gear hanging on the fence. But
probably no one was more surprised and startled than the daredevil
himself.
Alive to the emergency, Tim forgot his personal feelings toward Dugan
and with Ralph at his heels pushed his way to the announcer's stand.
There he found a group of perplexed and worried officials who were
looking on helplessly while Dugan cruised over the field. The crowd
recovered its breath, and, mob-like, got all ready for a real thrill
when Dugan landed.
Tim cornered Clyde Bennett, the owner of the great tri-motored monoplane
which had been on the good will tour. Tim's plan won Bennett's hearty
approval and together they explained it to the officials. Several
hesitated but "Spin" Beeker acclaimed it the only way to avert tragedy.
When he presented that angle of the situation, the other officials
immediately gave their consent. They didn't mind giving the crowd its
share of thrills, but at the same time they didn't want tragedy to play
a major role in the events of the day if it was humanly possible to
prevent it.
While Tim and Bennett warmed up the motors of the great transport plane,
Ralph went in search of rope. He was back in less than five minutes
staggering under his load. They boosted the coils of manilla into the
cabin of the big ship and Tim, who had been delegated to handle the
controls, was just taking his place when the fiery little managing
editor of the News arrived. Carson had gotten wind of what was in the
air and was thoroughly aroused. He collared Tim and Ralph.
"You're crazy," he yelled. "I won't let you go on such a foolhardy trip.
You'll all get killed and I can't afford to lose two of my best
reporters."
"You're crazy yourself if you think we're not going," shouted Tim in
reply. "Some one's got to help Dugan down. They say he isn't carrying a
parachute. And besides," he suggested, appealing to Carson's nose for
news, "it will make a great story for the paper." The managing editor
weakened and waved them on. Ralph banged the door of the cabin and Tim
fed the fuel into the eager cylinders of the tri-motor. He was mighty
glad now that he had taken a course in handling big ships at the flying
school.
While they were gaining altitude, Tim scrawled a note, weighed it down
with a wrench, and tied it to a stout, light cord. In less than five
minutes they were over the daredevil's plane. Ralph pushed open a window
in the cabin of the transport and paid out the cord to which the note
was attached. A moment of jockeying and the note was in Dugan's hands.
The daredevil tore it from the wrench, read it hastily, and then waved
his understanding to his rescuers.
The two planes forged westward, gradually gaining more altitude. They
wanted plenty of room and the sun at their backs when they started to
give the 25,000 spectators on the ground the greatest thrill of the
day--a thrill that would surpass anything on the scheduled program. Five
miles west of the airport they swung around, their tails to the setting
sun.
Dugan's crippled plane was a little ahead and above the tri-motor. The
air speed indicator in the big monoplane pointed to 80 miles an hour.
Tim took a fresh grip on the controls while Ralph and Bennett made sure
that their ropes were ready.
The gap between the two ships gradually closed. Tim was handling the
great tri-motor like a veteran.
The daredevil's plane was now just ahead and a few feet above him. Dugan
was looking back at the monoplane and handling his own little plane with
the skill of a magician. They were almost together; then Dugan's plane
was hidden by the great wing of the tri-motor. Tim moved the controls
slightly and held his breath. The monoplane rose gently, there was a
rasping bump as the daredevil's ship, minus its landing gear, settled on
top of the great gray monoplane.
With a shout, Ralph and Bennett swarmed out of the cabin and onto the
wings. While Dugan nursed his motor carefully and kept his ship
plastered tight against the wing of the tri-motor, the other two lashed
the little biplane down. In the cockpit of the big ship Tim was fighting
with his controls.
Carefully Tim pushed the big gray bird along while the men on the wing
hurried to complete their task. A careless maneuver, and the biplane
might be dislodged and brush them into space. After an eternity for Tim,
they scrambled into the cabin with news that they had done everything
possible to lash the damaged plane.
Again it was up to Tim. Slowly the tri-motor drifted earthward. Perhaps
Tim was the only one of the four who fully realized their new danger and
he kept his own counsel and nerved himself for the task ahead. But he
couldn't help wondering whether the damaged plane was lashed securely.
If there was very much slack in the ropes the ship above would bounce
when they landed, smash through the great wing and crush them in a trap
that would carry them to their deaths at sixty miles an hour, their
landing speed.
While the others were laughing over the thrill of the trip, Tim held
their lives in his hands. He was tired, dead tired. The good will trip
had been fatiguing and the strain of his sensational landing earlier in
the afternoon had taken more of his strength than he had realized. But
it was too late now to turn the controls over to Bennett. They were at
the edge of the field. Tim killed speed with every trick on the list.
The roar of the crowd came to his ears as the tri-motor, with
"Daredevil" Dugan's plane resting on top, passed overhead.
The ground loomed before Tim's tired eyes as he swung around into the
wind for the landing. The shadows of late afternoon were deceptive and
his eyes burned from the strain. He felt himself slipping, losing
control; then with a mighty effort he came back. The lives of the other
three in the plane, as well as his own, depended on his skill. And he
couldn't crack up in front of that great crowd! Tim gave the controls a
final twist and placed his trust in the guardian angel who looks after
flyers. The heavy under-carriage smacked the ground. Tim heard the wing
creak and groan in protest at the weight of Dugan's plane. Involuntarily
he ducked.
But the wing held and Tim brought the tri-motor to a stop a little past
the middle of the field.
When Tim reached the door of the tri-motor he found Dugan waiting for
him.
"Quick, Murphy," said the daredevil. "Come around to the other side.
I've got something I must tell you."
When they reached the far side of the tri-motor, Dugan burst forth in
voluble explanation.
"Blandin ordered me to crack you up on the tour," he explained. "That's
why we almost crashed at Newton. When I didn't get you then, I filed the
aileron wires on your ship. I've got to get out now, skip the country. I
failed to get you and Blandin will break me in two if he ever finds me.
Thanks for saving me just now. I'll repay you some day."
Before Tim could answer, Dugan had slipped away and was lost in the
crowd which had surged through the police lines and gathered around the
tri-motor. Tim and Dugan were to meet again but under circumstances that
even Tim hardly would have believed possible.