THE RACES
“He flies through the air with the greatest of ease,” sang Carol lustily
as she and her friends watched the take-off of a stunt pilot.
Phyllis sat on the running board of David’s car and looked around.
“But I don’t see anything of Gale or Brent Stockton,” she observed.
“They must be here somewhere,” Valerie declared. “Where’s Bruce?”
“In the hangar probably,” Janet answered. “There is what’s his
name—Stubby.”
“Hi, there,” David called. “Where is Mr. Stockton?”
Stubby approached them, a worried frown on his face.
“You don’t look very happy. Has someone smashed the Silver Arrow?” Peter
Arnold inquired.
“The plane is all right, I hope,” Stubby said gloomily.
“You hope!” the others echoed.
“Brent hasn’t brought it back yet,” Stubby informed them. “He went off
last night with Miss Howard and her father and hasn’t come back yet.”
“But it is almost time for the races,” Valerie breathed. “Where are
they?”
Stubby shook his head. “I wish I knew.”
“Will you fly the yellow plane if he doesn’t come back?” Peter asked
anxiously.
“Can you fly it, Stubby?” David put in.
Stubby regarded him seriously. “I can fly it—license and everything,
but it is Brent’s ship and his motor.”
“But he would want you to take his place if he couldn’t be here,” David
assured him. “Come along, we’ll help you roll the ship out onto the
field—just in case Brent doesn’t get back in time.”
The boys and Stubby walked to the hangar while the girls moved leisurely
out to the field where a crowd had already gathered about the planes
that would in a little while be vying with one another in the clouds.
“I’m going over to see the other plane Stubby is going to fly,” Phyllis
said after a while and departed.
A few minutes later Janet slipped away from Carol, Madge and Valerie.
The three girls were at first unaware of her absence but even when they
discovered it they thought nothing of it. Janet often wandered away by
herself—in search of something else to hold her interest. They supposed
she had gone after Phyllis.
Over in the central hangar a huge passenger plane was slowly being
wheeled out into the open. It was the plane that was to take the women
parachute jumpers up the required number of feet. From there they would
jump out and the first one on the ground receive a cash prize. The
entrants were slipping into the white, jumper-like suits and parachutes
provided by the airport.
Janet, her parachute bumping her legs as she walked from the hangar into
the sunlight, bumped ignominiously into another girl similarly
struggling with her equipment.
“Having——” Janet began and stopped to emit a shout of surprise.
“Phyllis! What are you doing in that parachute?”
“I might ask the same thing of you,” Phyllis laughed. “How come?”
“Well, I’ll tell you,” Janet said, slipping her arm within her friend’s
as they walked to the waiting plane. “It has always been a suppressed
desire of mine to jump out of an airplane.” She grinned engagingly at
Phyllis. Secretly she was glad of her friend’s presence. It lent her
support in the last minutes when she felt her courage weakening. “Do you
suppose they will give us a new parachute if this one doesn’t work?”
Phyllis laughed. “If this one doesn’t work you won’t need another one!
Come along, we have to get in.”
They let most of the other jumpers precede them, getting into the plane.
Just before Janet disappeared within she looked out over the crowd.
Squarely she caught Valerie’s eye and waved to the girls. She could see
the amazement plainly written on their features.
“Are they surprised,” she laughed nervously to Phyllis. “I’ll bet they
never suspected us of doing this!”
When the door to the plane was closed and the pilot was sending the
plane skimming across the ground Janet began to get a reversion of
feelings. It had seemed a great idea when she thought of it—this
parachute jump. It had been a new and frightfully brave adventure. But
now that the jump was only minutes away she began to wish she was with
her friends down on the ground looking up.
She looked at Phyllis who was interestedly peering at the ground below.
Phyllis, too, seemed a little paler than usual. Janet touched her
friend’s hand. Phyllis’ fingers were like ice.
Janet swallowed with difficulty and placed her lips close to Phyllis’
ear. “I’m getting scared,” she acknowledged.
Phyllis agreed with a grin. She could sympathize with Janet most
heartily for if she felt as shaky as Phyllis herself did——
The pilot raised his hand, the signal to his assistant to open the door
to the plane. Phyllis pushed Janet into place in the line of jumpers.
They had received their instructions on the ground and now anxiously
reviewed them in their minds.
Janet came to the edge and looked out. She shut her eyes and held her
breath. The ground was so awf’ly far away, but there were others behind
her. She couldn’t stop now. Holding firmly to all the courage she
possessed Janet stepped off into space.
Phyllis was next. As her friend disappeared she stepped quickly to take
Janet’s place. She knew if she hesitated she was lost, so immediately
stepped out into the clouds. But she had been too soon. She yanked on
the ring of her parachute, and the white folds streamed out behind her.
Phyllis, in her fall, a good distance before she pulled the ripcord, had
caught up with Janet and now her parachute became tangled in the folds
of her friend’s. The strings wound around each other as each girl tried
vainly to pull her respective silken umbrella loose.
“I’ll bet that is Phyllis and Janet,” Madge said nervously. She could
not see the identity of the girls up above the spectators, but something
told her that fatality hovered over her friends.
“Something like that would happen to them,” Carol agreed with a sigh.
“Oh, why don’t they do something!”
Phyllis and Janet were tugging frantically at the strings above them.
Finally, when they had about decided there was nothing for them to do
but prepare to land with hope for as little injury as possible, Phyllis’
parachute came free and straightened out with a jerk. Thereafter they
floated down to the ground easily, with the lightness of birds.
Phyllis braced her legs to meet the ground rushing up at her. In another
minute she was flat on her back and the parachute covering her like a
giant blanket. Friendly hands came to her rescue and soon she was
upright, stepping from the harness of the parachute.
“All right, Janet?” Phyllis called anxiously, running to where her
friend’s parachute covered a squirming, wriggling figure.
“I’ll be all right if somebody will take this thing off me,” Janet cried
fretfully. “Never,” she declared solemnly as she trudged along beside
Phyllis back to the hangar where they divested themselves of their
suits, “never will I try that again. Never!”
“Wasn’t it thrilling?” Phyllis asked eagerly. “I was never so thrilled
in my whole life!”
“I don’t care to experience it again,” Janet said flatly. “When I
stepped from the plane out into nothing and went tumbling down toward
the ground——I hope I haven’t shortened my life by ten years,” she
added.
“Of all the crazy stunts!” Carol greeted them when they were all
together again.
“I know, I know,” Janet said with a wave of the hand, “you don’t have to
say a word.”
“Whatever possessed you to do it?” Madge demanded.
“I wondered that myself when I was up there,” Janet murmured. “Just
suppose the parachute hadn’t opened!”
“A fine time to think of that!” Carol laughed. “You didn’t really think
you would get the prize, did you?”
“Well, I considered it,” Janet said diffidently. “By the way, who did
get it?”
It seemed none of the girls knew and the interest in the award died out
when Stubby appeared with the information that neither Brent Stockton
nor Gale had yet returned.
“I never thought Gale would miss all this,” Valerie declared.
“Nor Mr. Stockton,” added Phyllis. “I wonder where they are.”
“Maybe they eloped,” Carol said brightly hopeful.
“Do you really think so?” Janet asked eagerly.
“Of course they didn’t!” Phyllis said shortly. She turned to Stubby.
“What are you going to do about the race? It must be something terribly
important to keep Mr. Stockton away when this is so important to him.”
Stubby squinted up at the sun, then at the other planes already warming
up on the field. He shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his greasy
overalls.
“I s’pose I’ll have to fly her,” he said slowly.
“Here it comes,” Janet cried.
Bruce, David and Peter with the help of two other mechanics were
bringing the yellow plane from the hangar out onto the field. The yellow
plane gleamed in the sun like a canary waiting to take wing. Stubby
stroked the nickel propeller with almost loving fingers.
“Warm her up, Stubby!” Bruce urged.
Stubby disappeared within the hangar and reappeared with helmet and
goggles. He climbed into the cockpit. Bruce turned the propeller as he
had learned to do for Brent. The engine broke into a roar, the propeller
was a silver streak. The wind sent up a cloud of dust as the ship swung
about and slowly taxied to the starting line where the other planes were
all ready and waiting.
“Good luck!” Bruce called, but it is doubtful if Stubby heard him even
though he waved to the group.
The planes were off in a burst of noise and wind. Touching the ground
ever more lightly they ran the length of the field before rising into
the air on the first lap of the race. Around and around they went the
length of the field, circling the specially erected towers, soaring over
the heads of the people.
The Adventure Girls and the three boys watched with bated breath. Stubby
had taken the lead easily enough after the take-off, but now a red,
streamlined plane with a mighty engine and a determined pilot was
closing the distance between them. Once Brent’s engine sputtered
fitfully, but resumed a smooth evenness after a moment.
“Stubby can’t handle it like Brent can,” Bruce sighed. “Brent would win
easily enough.”
No one else said anything. They merely watched, not taking their eyes
for a minute from those man-made birds speeding beneath the clouds. Only
once did their interest and excitement turn into genuine concern. A
black plane suddenly disclosed a spurt of smoke and flame from the
motor. The pilot without more ado set his ship down on the ground,
unhurt, but definitely out of the race. The other flyers had not even
slackened their pace. Such bits of hard luck were common to those in the
flying business.
“Stubby is getting the feel of it now,” David said confidently as slowly
and surely the yellow plane resumed the lead of the field.
No more did Stubby allow the red monoplane to creep up into a
challenging position. He was sure of his plane now. The yellow ship was
not to be outdone. It streaked away a good half lap in the lead when the
checkered flag brought the close of the contest.
Stubby silently received the congratulations accorded the winner. The
motor had proved to stand the test. The plane had come through and
defeated all Brent’s enemies. Brent would probably sell his plans to the
government. His plane had won—but where was Brent?