Jimmy Meets an Old Friend—Johnnie Lee, of the Wireless Patrol
For many miles—ever since he crossed the Delaware into Pennsylvania, in
fact, Jimmy had been flying over a region so rough and rugged that it
strikes terror to the heart of the aviator. For here Nature has plowed
up the land in rugged furrows that rise thousands of feet. In places the
earth is jumbled in confused masses. Rocks, trees, precipices, bogs, and
deep ravines characterize the whole countryside. Rare, indeed, is the
level spot that is large enough, or smooth enough, or firm enough to
permit a safe landing. And well Jimmy knew what awaited him or any other
aviator who was luckless enough to be forced down in this terrible
region. And yet this country was tame beside that of the “graveyard of
airplanes” in the western half of the state. It was here, when he was
fairly in the heart of these terrible mountains, that Warren Long had
found his plane afire. As Jimmy looked down now at the torn and jagged
face of the country, he fairly shivered when he thought of the terrible
situation in which his friend had been placed such a short time
previously. For it was obviously impossible to land a plane safely in
these ragged hills, especially in the dark; and to Jimmy it seemed
almost as dangerous to trust to a parachute. For there was no way by
which the falling flier could tell when he was about to land with a
crash on a rock, or a jagged stump, or in the splintering arms of a
pine-tree—no way, it came to Jimmy as an afterthought, unless he
carried a flash-light powerful enough to pierce the blackness of the
night. And Jimmy felt again that same feeling of gratitude to Uncle Sam
that he had felt many a time previously for the little emergency landing
fields along the lighted airway that the Government has spied out and
marked off with encircling lights at night, where aviators in distress
can land in safety.
It was one of these emergency fields—that at Ringtown—which Warren
Long had been striving to reach on the preceding night. And it was this
same field that Jimmy was now heading for.
Jimmy had been flying rather high. Gently pulling back the throttle, he
went into a steep spiral. At about eight hundred feet he straightened up
while he glanced at the wind-sock. “Bang” went the gun again, and Jimmy
flew around the edge of the field into the wind. The field was none too
large. Tall trees on the lee side of it called for plenty of energetic
side-slipping and fish-tailing. Jimmy straightened her out, held her off
to lose flying speed, and as soon as he felt the wheels touch hauled
back on the stick and stepped on his brakes. Jimmy breathed a sigh of
relief and thanked his lucky stars for those brakes, for the ship came
to rest within twenty-five feet of a stone fence. In another moment he
was taxiing safely across the field toward the beacon light tower, where
a knot of men and boys had gathered, waiting for Jimmy’s ship to come to
rest.
Jimmy throttled down his engine to let it idle for a few minutes so the
valves could cool before he “cut his switch.” He stepped to the ground.
The little company of spectators surged toward him.
“Can any one of you tell me——” began Jimmy. Then he stopped short and
gazed at one of the group in silent astonishment. “Well, where in the
world did you come from, Johnnie Lee?” he demanded, after a moment. And
he stepped quickly toward a sturdy lad who stood somewhat behind the
other spectators. “I haven’t seen you for ages—not since I left home to
learn to fly, in fact.”
“Jimmy!” cried the lad, rushing forward with outstretched hand. “I
didn’t know you at first, with your helmet on. I’m awfully glad to see
you.” And he fairly wrung Jimmy’s hand.
“What are you doing here?” demanded Jimmy, when they had finished
shaking hands.
“I might ask you the same question,” laughed Johnnie. “I am here because
I can’t very well help it. My father’s health broke down, and the doctor
said he would have to get into the country. We have relatives close by
named Healy. So Dad bought a little farm here. I’ve been at home, doing
most of the farming. You are the first member of the old Wireless Patrol
I have seen since we moved down here. My! It’s been tough to be
separated from all the gang. I think of the old days often, and of the
fine times we used to have when we were in camp at Fort Brady.”
“They were good old days, weren’t they, Johnnie?” said Jimmy. “How the
old crowd has gotten separated. There’s Alec Cunningham down in New
Jersey in the oyster business, and Roy Mercer a wireless operator on an
ocean steamer, and Bob Martin in the Lighthouse Service, and Henry
Harper in the Coast Guard. My, it doesn’t seem possible that the old
crowd could be scattered so. Can you tell me about any of the other
fellows of the Wireless Patrol?”
“I can tell you a whole lot about Jimmy Donnelly,” laughed Johnnie.
“How’s that?” demanded Jimmy. “What do you know about me and how did you
find it out?”
“You don’t think anybody could have all the adventures you have had,
finding lost air mail pilots and rounding up robbers and not have people
know about it, do you? Why, I read about those things in the newspaper.”
“That reminds me,” said Jimmy, “that I am here now for the _Morning
Press_, to get more details about Warren Long’s parachute jump last
night. You can’t tell me anything about it, can you?”
“I certainly can,” said Johnnie, “for I saw the whole thing happen, and
the pilot landed right on our farm and I helped him get back to his
burning ship to try to save some of the mail.”
“Well, if that isn’t luck,” said Jimmy. “Take me to the burned plane,
will you, and tell me what you know about the affair.”
“All right. Come along,” and Johnnie led the way toward a clearing on
the slope of a hill at some little distance.
The way was rough, for they had to pass over some stony fields and
through a patch of timber. They had ample time to talk as they walked.
“How did you happen to see Warren Long’s burning plane?” asked Jimmy.
“I was looking for it.”
“Looking for it! What do you mean?”
“Just what I say. I was looking for it, though I had no idea it was
going to be afire. You see, ever since you got into the Air Mail, Jimmy,
I have been interested in the mail planes. I have always hoped that one
of them would land here. And as long as you were a mail pilot I guess I
was always hoping that you would be piloting the ship that stopped here.
Well, I got so much interested in the mail planes that I kept right on
watching for them, even after you left the service. You know the first
night mail plane always comes over here just about bedtime, and I almost
always step out-of-doors and watch it sail over.”
“I know how you feel,” said Jimmy.
“Well,” continued Johnnie, “when I heard the mail plane coming last
night I stepped outside as usual, and there was the plane. But something
was wrong. It was afire. You could see the flames plainly. It flew in a
crazy fashion——”
“That must have been while Warren Long was fighting the flames,”
interrupted Jimmy.
“And it went sailing by pretty fast. For a time the fire seemed to die
down, and I thought the pilot had it about out. Then it burst out worse
than ever. By this time the plane was a long way past here. But it
turned and headed back. I knew right away that the pilot was trying to
reach the field where you just landed. I called to Dad that a plane was
on fire and was heading for the landing field, and that maybe we could
help save the ship if we got to the field in time. So we set out
together for the field.”
“Do you live far from it?” inquired Jimmy.
“About half a mile, I suppose, though our land runs clear down to the
landing field. Anyway, before we were half-way to the field we saw that
the pilot would never make it. The whole airplane seemed to be aflame.
It was fairly spouting fire from all sides. I knew the pilot would have
to jump, and I couldn’t understand why he stayed with the ship half as
long as he did.”
“You would if you knew Warren Long,” interrupted Jimmy. “That was just
like him. He risked his life to try to save the mail.”
“He risked it, all right,” said Johnnie. “His plane was just a mass of
flames. I don’t see why he wasn’t burned to death right in the cockpit.
I just stood still and held my breath while I waited for him to jump.”
“Did you see him when he did jump?”
“See him? Why, you could see everything. The whole sky was as light as
day. Out he came in a tremendous dive right through a sheet of flame. I
never breathed while I waited for him to open his parachute. Do you know
what happened? It was awful.”
“What was awful?” demanded Jimmy.
“Why, that burning ship turned over on its side the instant the pilot
left it and dived straight after him. I thought sure the plane was going
to crash into him. It was frightful to watch. My heart simply stopped
beating while that plane roared after him. And the pilot was as cool as
an icicle. He just kept on falling and falling and never moved a muscle.
As the plane shot by him I thought it had struck him, and I cried right
out. But somehow the plane missed him and shot down like a flaming
meteor. Gee! You should have seen what happened then. Your friend had
his parachute open the instant the blazing ship had passed him.”
“How high was he?”
“Not very high. Just a few hundred feet. But the wind caught his
parachute instantly and snapped it open with a jerk. I could see the
pilot spin around like a weather-vane in a wind squall. You know he was
falling head foremost all this time, and the parachute jerked him
upright quicker than you could wink your eye. It must have given him an
awful jolt.”
“What happened then?” demanded Jimmy.
“Why, Dad and I separated. He ran toward the plane, to try to save the
mail, but I never gave a thought to the mail. I ran to help the pilot. I
couldn’t help thinking that after all it might be you, Jimmy. You know a
fellow can never be sure just who’s in a plane.”
“That was mighty kind of you, Johnnie. But I wasn’t in the plane, and
that lets me out of the story. What did you do when you reached the
pilot?”
“I got to him soon after he hit the ground. He was all tangled up in his
parachute, for he had come down in some scrub growth and the cords were
twisted among the stems, and the parachute itself was fast in some
bushes. He had landed pretty hard, too, and was half stunned. And he
wrenched one of his ankles badly. Maybe it’s sprained. Anyway, I helped
him to get out of his harness, and I told him just to sit down and take
it easy while I gathered up the parachute. But he didn’t want to wait an
instant. He said he had to get to the ship to try to save the mail. So
he just snatched out his knife and cut a big piece out of the parachute,
and then we hurried over to the burning ship as fast as he could walk.
He never said a word, but I know his ankle must have hurt him terribly.”
“Did you save any of the mail?”
“No. When we got there the fire was so hot you couldn’t get anywhere
near the ship. Dad and some other men had tried to pull some mail-sacks
out of the plane, but it just wasn’t possible. The fire was too hot. I
wasn’t much interested in the mail or even in the plane. I couldn’t
think of anything but the pilot. He looked awful. When we got near the
burning ship, where it was light enough to see him well, I noticed at
once that his eyebrows and lashes were burned off, his face was badly
scorched and his hands were burned almost raw. It’s a wonder he wasn’t
burned to a crisp.”
“His flying suit and his helmet and goggles saved him,” said Jimmy.
“What I can’t understand is why he didn’t jump sooner. He must have
known well enough that the ship was doomed.”
“He did. I asked him why he stayed in it so long, and he told me that he
couldn’t leave the ship any sooner because it might have fallen on some
of the homes beneath him. You see he was right over the town. So he just
kept right on flying, with the flames all about him, until he was sure
he was clear of the town. What do you think of that?”
“I am not surprised. In fact, I should be surprised if he had done
anything else. It’s exactly the sort of thing Warren Long would do.”
“It was the bravest thing I ever heard of,” said Johnnie.
“Could you do anything for him?” demanded Jimmy. “His burns must have
been very painful.”
“Sure we did. I took him home with me and mother put some grease on his
face and bandaged his hands. But he didn’t seem to think about anything
except the mail. That evidently worried him. The pilot soon caught a
train going east, and that is the last I saw of him.”
“Well, you certainly have given me a vivid account of the affair,
Johnnie. You’d make a good reporter.”
“Gee! I’d like to be one. It’s pretty dull out here in these mountains.
Dad’s got his health back now and doesn’t really need me any longer.
I’ve been looking for a job in town. If you know of any opening I wish
you’d tell me about it, Jimmy.”
“I’ll do all I can to help you, Johnnie, though I don’t believe I can do
much for you. You see, you have never had any experience as a reporter.”
By this time they had reached the burned airship. Several persons were
gathered about it, for ever since daybreak people had been coming from
far and near to take a look at it. Jimmy stood for some time viewing the
sad wreck.
“Thank God Warren escaped,” he muttered.
Then he slowly walked around the burned plane, trying to find the best
point of view from which to get a picture. He took several snaps, from
different angles, and then asked Johnnie to guide him to a spot where he
could get the best picture of the region. Johnnie took him to a little
knoll that rose sharply at no great distance, and from this
vantage-point Jimmy secured an excellent picture of the countryside,
with the wrecked plane in the very centre of the picture. Then he and
Johnnie walked across the country to the spot where Warren Long had
landed. The parachute was no longer there, as the remains of it had been
gathered up by the crew sent from the Air Mail field to salvage what
could be saved from the wreck. But Jimmy was able to see exactly where
Warren Long had struck the ground, and to get some good snaps of the
place.
“I ought to see your father,” said Jimmy, “and find out exactly what
occurred in the effort to save the mail. Besides, I want to see him
anyway. I haven’t seen him since—I don’t know when. And I want to see
your mother, too.”
“We’ll go over to the house,” replied Johnnie.
“Mother will be there, and Dad is at work somewhere about the place.”
They hurried over to the farmhouse, and found both of Johnnie’s parents
right at hand. It was a pleasant meeting, for Jimmy had known the Lees
all his life. He had little time for visiting, however. Most of the
little visit he spent in asking Mr. Lee questions about the burning
plane and the effort to save the mail. When he had all the details he
could gather, he said goodbye to Johnnie’s parents. Then the two lads
walked back to the landing field.
Jimmy started his engine and let it run a few minutes to get warm. When
he was ready to depart, he held out his hand to Johnnie. “I am ever so
glad I found you,” he said, “and I am more than grateful to you for what
you folks did for Warren Long last night. You have helped me a lot,
Johnnie. I won’t forget about you when I get back to New York. If there
is anything I can do for you, I will certainly do it. Now I must be off.
They want these pictures at the office just as soon as they can get
them. Good-bye.” And Jimmy was off.