a dime from each of her companions, hurried away toward the restaurant.
When she returned, the candy bars were welcomed eagerly and when the
girls stepped back into the plane they felt refreshed.
The floodlight opened up the night with its blue-white brilliance and
the tri-motor rolled across the field and soared westward again. Miss
Comstock came down the aisle with an armful of the latest magazines.
"This will be one of your duties," she said as she offered them to Jane
and Sue. The girls made their selection but Jane found her eyes too
heavy for reading. She changed places with Sue and dozed again while
her companion read.
At the end of another hour, the plane started bucking sharply and sleep
became impossible for any of the girls.
Miss Comstock came along the aisle and spoke to each girl.
"There's a bad cross-wind. See that your safety belts are buckled
securely."
The plane continued to bounce up and down, sometimes dropping for what
seemed to Jane hundreds of feet only to bound upward again with a
jarring shock.
Sue was white and perspiration stood out on her forehead.
"I hope we won't have many trips like this," she gasped. "Oh, I wish I
hadn't eaten that candy!"
Jane looked around to see how Grace and Alice were faring. Grace looked
like a ghost, but Alice seemed unaffected. One of the girls at the rear
of the plane became violently nauseated but Miss Comstock, cool and
undisturbed by the rough weather, cared for her.
One thing Jane realized; they were all getting a thorough test of their
weather ability on their first long flight.
The weather was rough all the rest of the way to Omaha, but after the
first half hour, Sue recovered her equilibrium and managed to smile at
the white face and tight lips of some of the other girls. Poor Grace
was in agony most of the way.
"Lunch is ready at the field restaurant," Miss Comstock announced when
they rolled into the hangar at Omaha.
Various replies greeted her announcement. Some of the girls were ready
to eat, while several could only groan at the thought of food.
Charlie Fischer climbed down and spoke to Jane and Sue.
"A little rough the last hundred and fifty miles," he grinned.
"It was more than a little rough," retorted Sue. "It was terribly
rough."
"Say, that was smooth compared to some of the weather we strike west of
here. You've got lots of surprises ahead."
"I've had enough for one night," replied Sue, "but maybe I won't notice
it from now on."
"Some people are all right after the first time and others never get
over air sickness," replied Charlie cheerfully.
"What a great help you are," countered Sue.
"I'm leaving you here. This is the end of my run tonight. Maybe you'll
be assigned with me when you go into active service."
"If flying with you means weather like this, I hope not," smiled Jane.
Miss Comstock, anticipating that some of the girls might be air-sick,
had ordered a light supper and only one of them, Pert Meade, who had
been ill aboard the plane, was unable to enjoy the attractive meal.
It was eleven o'clock when they re-entered the cabin, ready for the
flight over the windswept Nebraska country. A new pilot, an older man
than Charlie Fischer, was at the controls.
The girls took their places, fastened the safety belts, and the big
ship roared away again.
The weather was still rough as they followed the Platte River valley,
riding high above country along which the pioneers had struggled in the
early days of the West. They were following the U. P. trail, but were
covering in an hour a distance it had taken the first settlers weeks to
traverse.
Jane looked at the air-speed indicator. They were traveling only a
little more than a hundred miles an hour and she knew that the wind
outside must be blowing a gale. Below them one of the department of
commerce emergency landing fields, outlined with red, green, and white
border lights, drifted by. She looked at the route map. The field must
have been Wood River, just west and a little south of Grand Island.
They were still another hour out of North Platte.
It was well after midnight and most of the girls were dozing. Jane
looked around and saw Miss Comstock in the last of the single seats on
the left side of the cabin. The chief stewardess was looking out the
window, staring with a sort of desperate intentness into the night, and
Jane wondered if there was anything wrong. She listened to the beat of
the motors. They were running smoothly, with whips of blue flame
streaking from the exhausts, and Jane concluded that she had been
imagining things when she decided Miss Comstock was upset.
Several minutes later the chief stewardess hastened up the aisle and
disappeared along the passage which led to the pilots' compartment. She
returned almost immediately and snapped on the top light, flooding the
cabin with a blaze of brilliance. Just then the motor on the left wing
stopped and Jane knew that something was decidedly wrong for the chief
stewardess's face was pale and drawn.
Chapter Seven
Crash Landing
Jane shook Sue into wakefulness, and, cupping her hands so that only
Sue could hear, said, "Get the sleep out of your eyes. Something's gone
wrong. One motor has stopped."
Sue, thoroughly aroused at Jane's words, rubbed the sleep from her eyes
and sat up straight. Miss Comstock hurried down the aisle, shaking the
girls into consciousness. Then she returned to the front of the cabin.
The two other motors had been throttled down and by speaking in a loud
tone, she could be heard by every girl.
"We are about to make a forced landing," she began and as she saw quick
looks of alarm flash over the faces of the girls, hastened to add,
"There is no need for undue alarm. I am sure no one will be injured for
one of the most experienced pilots on the line is at the controls.
Please see that your safety belts are fastened securely. Try to relax
your muscles if that is possible."
The plane heeled sharply as a vicious gust of wind caught it and Jane
looked out, hoping that lights of one of the emergency landing fields
would be visible. Only a solid mass of black greeted her eyes and she
knew that their situation was indeed dangerous. Had Miss Comstock only
been talking bravely, attempting to reassure the girls?
Jane looked at her companions. Apprehension was written on the face of
each one, but none of them was flinching, a tribute to the fine courage
which their nurses' training instilled. They were accustomed to
emergencies, even though this one was more than they had bargained for
on their first long flight.
Jane tried to analyze her own feelings, but found that there was a
peculiar lack of emotion. There was nothing she could do to ease the
situation. She looked at her companion.
Sue smiled back bravely and reached over and took Jane's hand. It made
them feel a little closer.
"How far above ground are we?" asked Sue.
The needle on the altimeter dial was jumping crazily and Jane shook her
head. The air speed was down to eighty miles an hour and they seemed to
be drifting into the wind.
Miss Comstock started to turn off the top light, but one of the girls
asked her to leave it on. It was much easier sitting there with the
light on than waiting for the crash in the dark.
Miss Comstock walked down the aisle and Jane marveled at her ability to
remain so calm in the emergency. She admired the chief stewardess
immensely for her control of her nerves, for Miss Comstock didn't
appear to be more than three or four years older. She was a little
shorter than Jane with a tinge of auburn in her hair and she was
dressed in the natty smoke-green suit which was to mark the
stewardesses of the Federated Airways.
Dozens of thoughts raced through Jane's mind. She wondered what Miss
Hardy would say when she heard about the accident and what her own
folks would do.
Then Miss Comstock was beside her, speaking loud enough to be heard by
all of the girls.
"We are almost down," she told them. "Please remain calm."
Jane wondered what Miss Comstock would do when they struck. There was
no safety belt to keep her from being tossed about, for the chief
stewardess remained in the aisle.
The landing lights on the wings were trying to bore into the night, but
the air was filled with dust and Jane knew that the pilots were feeling
their way down blind, hoping for a good landing.
Every girl sensed that the crash was near and Sue leaned her head over
on Jane's shoulder and closed her eyes. She had always looked to Jane
for the final decision and now she turned to her for comfort and
protection.
The plane lurched heavily and something ripped against the
undercarriage. The lights in the cabin went out and Jane felt Miss
Comstock pitched into her lap. In a flash she wrapped her arms around
the chief stewardess and held her as tightly as possible.
There was the sensation of falling blindly into a great abyss and then
came a jarring crash that seemed to split the cabin apart. After that
there was a silence, broken only by the sobbing of the wind.
Jane felt the chief stewardess struggling to free herself from her
arms.
"Let me go," gasped Miss Comstock. "We've got to get out of here."
Jane released her hold and spoke to Sue.
"Are you all right?" she asked.
"Except for still being scared half to death."
Other girls were moving about, unfastening their safety belts and
trying to get to their feet.
"The cabin's on a sharp angle," Miss Comstock told them. "Take off your
belts, get down in the aisle on your hands and knees, and follow me to
the rear."
Jane and Sue obeyed, with Sue directly behind Miss Comstock. Then came
Jane with Grace Huston and Alice Blair following and the other girls
behind them. No one appeared to be hurt except for minor bruises and
bumps.
When they reached the door, which had been torn from its hinges by the
impact, Miss Comstock cautioned them again.
"It's about six feet to the ground. Slide over the edge and hang by
your hands until your feet are on the ground. Then each girl wait until
the next is down and we'll form a chain of hands so that no one is
lost. Count as you come and we'll know when everyone is out."
Jane was the first one out and she cried, "No. 1 out," in a loud voice.
Girl after girl called out their number as they scrambled down out of
the wreckage until every one was outside.
Still holding hands, Miss Comstock led them away from the plane as Jane
wondered about the pilots. The wreckage was at least fifty yards behind
when Miss Comstock paused.
"You girls wait here. I'm going back and find the pilots."
She started back alone, but Jane slipped out of the group and joined her.
"You can't go alone," she said. "If they're trapped, maybe I can be of
some help."
"Go back, Jane," ordered the chief stewardess. "There's the gasoline.
Smell it? The wreckage may catch on fire at any moment."
"That's just why you need me," insisted Jane.
Miss Comstock hurried on. Jane was determined and there was no time to
waste in argument.
The tri-motor had landed on a hillside, first striking a fringe of
trees which had wrecked the undercarriage and then skidding along the
hillside until the nose had dug into the ground, flipping the tail into
the air at a crazy angle.
The pilots' cockpit appeared badly smashed, but as Miss Comstock and
Jane approached, a man crawled out of the wreckage. It was the
co-pilot, badly battered and only half conscious.
"Slim's in there," he gasped, pointing back at the smashed cockpit.
Miss Comstock lunged ahead, tearing at the wreckage, hunting for Slim
Bollei, the chief pilot. The smell of gasoline was doubly strong and
Jane realized their grave danger, but she never wavered in following
the chief stewardess.
They found the chief pilot jammed behind the control wheel.
"You take his shoulders while I try to free his feet," ordered Miss
Comstock. Working swiftly, they managed to lift the pilot clear and
Jane was thankful that he was slight in stature. It would have been
impossible for them to carry a heavy man.
They staggered away from the wreckage just as a tongue of flame leaped
along the remains of the right wing.
"Hurry," gasped Miss Comstock. "We've got to get farther away."
The co-pilot tried to assist them, but he was too weak to help.
"Take care of yourself," Miss Comstock told him. "We'll get Slim away."
The flames spread rapidly and by the time they reached the crest of the
hill, the wreckage was an inferno of fire with roaring, twisting flames
leaping into the heavens. Jane shuddered and closed her eyes and the
other girls huddled close together.
"This is no time for anyone to have hysterics," said the steel-nerved
Miss Comstock. She turned to the co-pilot. "Did you get a message out
that we were crashing?" she asked.
"Yes, but I don't know whether it got through. The static has been
terrific for the last hour."
"Where are we?"
"Somewhere between Wood River and Kearney and a little south of the
line. The Platte can't be far south of us."
"I don't care where the Platte is. I want to get to a phone and find a
doctor for Slim and report to the line," snapped Miss Comstock. She
turned to Sue and Alice.
"You girls take charge here. Do what you can for these men while Jane
and I start out to see if we can find a farmhouse with a telephone."
Leaving the other girls on the hilltop, Miss Comstock and Jane plunged
away into the night. The chief stewardess strode rapidly, and Jane
found it difficult to keep up with her.
"Perhaps a farmer will be attracted by the flames," she gasped as they
topped another hill.
"It's not likely. If the co-pilot was right, we're in a rather desolate
spot just north of the river. We'll keep going and see what we can
locate."
For half an hour they plodded steadily ahead until they struck a dirt
road running at right angles to their own course.
"We'll turn to the left. At least we'll be going toward Kearney," said
Miss Comstock.
They trudged a mile down the road before they came to a farmhouse. A
dog greeted them with lusty barks and the farmer threw up a window on
the second floor.
"What's going on out there?" he cried.
"We're stewardesses on the Federated Airways," Miss Comstock shouted.
"Our plane crashed about an hour ago in the hills over toward the
Platte. We've got to get to a phone so we can call a doctor and inform
the line about the accident."
"Come right in. I'll be down in a minute."
A light flashed in the room upstairs and the farmer, dressing hastily,
hurried down.
Miss Comstock almost rang the telephone off the wall in trying to
arouse the operator on the rural line, but at last got her call through
to the field at Kearney and told the night man there what had happened.
The farmer supplied them with directions for the field relief crew and
the Kearney men promised to arrive with a doctor within the hour. The
farmer's wife hastened down and insisted on making coffee and
sandwiches.
"Was anyone badly injured?" she asked.
"The chief pilot is hurt, but I don't know how seriously," replied Miss
Comstock.
"But isn't it dangerous for girls like you to be flying in those
airplanes?" asked the farmer's wife.
"It was tonight," smiled Miss Comstock, "but as a rule it is as safe as
riding in a railroad train and much safer than traveling in an
automobile. What do you think about it, Jane?"
"I think it's thrilling, but the crash tonight will be enough to last
me for the rest of my life," she replied.
"It will probably be the first and last one you'll ever have. Flying is
getting safer every day. You certainly had your baptism under fire the
first night out."
Chapter Eight
Winning Their Wings
The crew from the Kearney field arrived in a large truck and trailing
them was an ambulance with a doctor and two nurses. The farmer joined
the party and helped guide them to the shivering group on the hilltop
north of the Platte.
The wreckage of the tri-motor had long since ceased to glow and the
wind whined dismally through a low growth of underbrush. Sue was the
first to reach the truck and Miss Comstock fairly leaped after her.
"How's the pilot and co-pilot?" she asked, anxiety making her voice
sound unnatural.
"They'll come through all right," said Sue. "I think the pilot has a
slight concussion and his right arm is broken. The co-pilot is only
suffering from shock and bruises."
"And the girls?"
"They're all right. When the fire died down a bit, several of them even
tried to get close enough to salvage some of the mail, but the flames
leaped up again and forced them back."
The flyers were carried to the waiting ambulance and that vehicle soon
lurched away over the uneven ground.
The crew from the Kearney field had brought powerful electric torches
and with these they made a thorough survey of the tri-motor. It was a
charred mass of twisted steel tubing, little resembling the proud ship
which had bucked the storm a few hours before.
"The company can write about $80,000 off the books," growled the
manager of the Kearney field. "I wonder how it happened?"
"The left wing started to flutter," said Miss Comstock. "I could tell
from the vibration of the ship something was wrong and when I went up
into the cockpit Slim Bollei told me we were in a jam. He was afraid
the wing was going to tear loose so he cut the left motor. With the
wind bad and the wing loosening up more every second we were in the air
he had to hunt a place to set down quick."
"Well, he sure put this crate down for keeps," grunted the manager.
"Guess we might as well start back to the field and I'll write up a
report of the accident."
The girls piled into the big truck, Jane and Sue sitting at the very
end with their feet hanging over.
"What a night," said Sue as the truck moved away from the scene of the
accident. "For a while I was afraid I wasn't going to live through it."
"I'm still shaky," confessed Grace Huston, who was just behind them.
"It wasn't pleasant," admitted Jane, "but we're all lucky to be out
alive and with the pilots only slightly injured. However, as Miss
Comstock says, this will probably be our first and last crash and it
might as well come early."
When they reached the Kearney field, Miss Comstock got in touch with
the operations manager at Cheyenne and informed him that another plane
would be needed to take her charges to Cheyenne.
It was daylight when Cheyenne finally came back with flying orders. A
special plane was being ordered out of Omaha to take the girls the
remainder of the distance.
"We'll have several hours here," Miss Comstock informed them, "so I've
chartered several cabs to take us uptown for breakfast. We'll go to the
hotel, clean up and relax. Lunch will be in Cheyenne."
They were about to leave the field when a young man hurried up.
"I'm the Associated Press correspondent here," he explained, "and I'm
looking for the stewardess in charge."
Miss Comstock stepped forward. "What can I do for you?" she asked.
The reporter grinned. "Just tell me all about the accident. I've got
the pilots' names from the hospital and a few details, but I'd like to
have all of the facts."
Jane was surprised when Miss Comstock told him everything about the
accident.
"Please say that the new girls were especially calm and cool-headed in
their first emergency," she said. "If it had not been for the
assistance of one of them I fear the pilot would never have been pulled
out of the wreckage before the plane caught fire."
The reporter insisted on having Jane's name.
"This will make a great human-interest story," he exclaimed as he
hurried away.
Miss Comstock turned to the girls.
"That's a little lesson in public relations," she said. "The policy of
the line is to tell the newspaper people the truth. If you try to hide
or distort facts, the reporters will learn part of them in some other
way and it is much better to have the truth sent out in the first
place."
After breakfast at the hotel, Jane and Sue went into the writing room.
"I'm going to write my parents about everything that happened last
night," said Sue. "Then they won't worry when they read the newspaper
stories."
Jane agreed that it was a splendid idea and they passed half an hour at
their letter writing before Miss Comstock came in to inform them that
it was time to return to the field.
As they reached the airport a tri-motor swung in from the east. It
swooped low over the field and an arm was flung out of the cockpit in a
friendly greeting to the girls who were standing beside the hangar. The
tri-motor nosed around into the wind and dropped down to an easy
landing.
When it stopped in the hangar, the pilot stuck his head out of the
cockpit.
"Hi, there," he called to Jane and Sue. "I hear you won your wings last
night." It was Charlie Fischer, who had flown them from Chicago to
Omaha the night before.
"You mean we had them clipped and singed," retorted Jane.
Charlie climbed down from the cockpit.
"How's Slim Bollei?" he asked.
"Just a slight crack on his head," said Sue. "I hear that they select
men with hard heads for pilots."
"Ouch!" grinned Charlie. "I'm going to wear armor the next time I talk
to you."
"You needn't. I don't even bite."
The pilot turned to Miss Comstock.
"Get your cargo aboard," he said, "and we'll take off in about five
minutes. They routed me out at Omaha and started me west before I had
time to get anything to eat. We'll start as soon as I can rustle a cup
of coffee and a sandwich at the shanty across the road."
By this time the girls had become fairly well acquainted and already
little groups were being formed. Jane was pleased that Alice and Grace
had personalities that fitted in so smoothly with her own and Sue's.
There would be much to learn and much to do in the coming weeks and it
would be much pleasanter getting accustomed to the new environment if
friends were nearby.
The air was cool and sweet. The wind had subsided and there was no
trace of the terror it had wrought the night before as the girls took
their places and fastened the safety belts around their bodies.
Charlie Fischer, still munching a sandwich, hurried into the hangar,
signed the gas and oil record book, climbed into his cockpit and gunned
the motors. The big biplane rolled smoothly ahead, turned its nose into
the wind, and started climbing skyward. They were off on the last lap
of their trip to Cheyenne.
Chapter Nine
At Mrs. Murphy's
Jane had secretly wondered just how she would feel when the plane
soared into the sky. After the experience of the night before she
feared that a numbing fright might grip her and she was greatly
relieved when there was no feeling of apprehension.
Instead, she thoroughly enjoyed the smooth upward flight, the pulsating
power of the great motors, and the panorama unfolding beneath. She
turned to look at Sue. Her companion was gripping the arms of her chair
tightly, her eyes bright and staring straight ahead. When Jane started
to speak to her, she shook her head, but Jane watched Sue closely for
the next few minutes.
Gradually Sue relaxed and a little later she leaned over and spoke to
Jane.
"I was fighting down a little bugaboo of fear," she grinned. "I knew if
I didn't conquer it all by myself, I'd never be able to do it. Now I'll
never be afraid to fly anywhere and anytime."
Jane thought that statement was a little bold, but she hoped it was
true.
Keeping to the right of the broad Platte, they sped westward with the
speed indicator wavering between 115 and 120 miles an hour for there
was only a slight head wind dropping down from the far-away Rockies.
North Platte appeared ahead and Jane consulted the map of their route.
North Platte was a regular passenger stop, but they were running as a
special, and the plane dropped over the southwestern Nebraska city.
Here the Platte forked, one branch swinging northwest while the South
Platte continued almost straight west.
The shining steel of the Union Pacific rails caught the sunlight far
below and Jane saw the smoky plume of a transcontinental limited
threading its way westward. The plane soon overhauled the train and
left it far behind. They were too high for any of the girls to wave.
The country became rougher, more desolate, and the few farms looked
drear and beaten down by the buffeting of the elements.
They passed north of Sidney and not long afterward Jane knew they were
in Wyoming.
It was just north of Pine Bluffs that Jane got her first glimpse of the
Rockies. The air was clear and the visibility excellent. Far away to
the west and south she saw the snowy summit of what she was later to
know as Long's Peak and other lesser mountains reared their heads into
view.