Jane Stewardess of the Air Lines Part 15

The stewardess made her way past the baggage compartment and stuck her head in the pilots' c.o.c.kpit.

Charlie Fischer looked down at her.

"How's our famous pa.s.senger?" he asked.

"Sound asleep," replied Jane, "and she'll stay that way until morning if you'll use a little care in landing and taking off."

"I'll drop this crate down like we were carrying eggs," promised Charlie, "but don't you let her out of the plane. Next time we may never be able to get her back on board."

Jane returned to the cabin where the only light was the one over her seat at the rear. Her pa.s.senger was sleeping soundly and Jane sat down and relaxed.

The last two hours, from the time she had received the call to rush to the field, had been filled with a nervous tension. Handling Mrs. Van Verity Vanness had required real tact and patience and Jane had been so busy she hadn't had time to remember that this was her first trip as stewardess. Up until now she had rather looked upon herself as a trained nurse called in to care for a nervous, irritable woman.

At better than 8,000 feet the air was chilly even in the summer and Jane got a blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders. She didn't dare sleep for fear Mrs. Van Verity Vanness would waken and call her.

Jane had hardly settled down to rest when the lights of North Platte appeared far ahead and the throbbing of the motors eased off. Charlie Fischer set the plane down without a bounce and they rolled into the hangar.

Mrs. Van Verity Vanness roused slightly and Jane told her they were in North Platte. The stop there took just a little better than four minutes and Jane learned that there were no messages for her pa.s.senger.

Then they were booming east again with the next stop at Omaha.

Jane settled down in her chair, wondering if her pa.s.senger had been serious when she mentioned taking her on to New York. What a lark that would be and how the other girls would talk. Jane could just imagine Mattie Clark turning almost green with envy.

The pilot found the favoring wind again and they sped from North Platte to Omaha in record time for the big tri-motor. At the Omaha field reporters were waiting for the plane and Jane was forced to go to the waiting room and answer their questions, for Mrs. Van Verity Vanness refused to see them.

For five minutes she fended off the questions of the newspapermen, answering those she was free to.

"Better look out for the aerial bandits," they warned her. "Think of the ransom they could demand if they captured your pa.s.senger?"

"Haven't they been captured?" asked Jane.

"No. They vanished after bringing down the mail plane in southeastern Iowa. The last report said that they had been heading west. Of course, that was early yesterday. They've landed at some out of the way field."

Jane thanked the reporter and turned back to the tri-motor, glad to get away from her questioners lest she show them how much she was disturbed. With the newspapers now broadcasting the cross-country dash of the wealthy Mrs. Van Verity Vanness, Jane knew that the special was not safe with the aerial bandits still at large.

Chapter Thirteen

The Black Plane

Just before the tri-motor wheeled off the ramp at Omaha, the radio operator at the field hurried up with a message. It was from New York, informing Mrs. Van Verity Vanness that her son was slightly improved and was looking forward to her arrival at his bedside.

The little woman of the many millions looked at Jane through tear-dimmed eyes.

"He's my only son," she said. "He means so very much to me."

Jane nodded. She could understand, for in her years of training at Good Samaritan she had seen mother love put to many a severe and heart-breaking test and she knew how deep in a human soul it penetrated.

Rea.s.sured that her son was not losing ground, Mrs. Van Verity Vanness dozed again as the plane raced over western Iowa.

Jane went ahead to the pilots' c.o.c.kpit and leaned close to Charlie Fischer.

"The airplane bandits are still at large," she told him.

"I know it," he said. "We got a special warning at Omaha. A strange s.h.i.+p was sighted over the Des Moines field half an hour ago and it answered the description of the bandit craft. Two army planes that were making an overnight stop at Fort Des Moines have gone up to see if they can trace it."

"Keep a close watch. I've got nearly a billion-dollar piece of humanity in the cabin."

"Orders are to land if we run into trouble."

"But that would mean the capture and holding of Mrs. Van Verity Vanness for ransom," protested Jane.

"That's better than having us all shot down," snapped Charlie. "You just mind things in the cabin and I'll run this end of the s.h.i.+p."

"Well," said Jane with finality. "If I were a pilot and a bandit plane attacked me, I'd give them a real race before I landed."

Charlie started to reply but the co-pilot grabbed his arm and pointed over to the right. The lights of a plane, coming rapidly toward them, were plainly visible.

Charlie looked at them for a second and then snapped off the wing lights of his own plane. "Get back into the cabin and turn off the lights there," he roared at Jane. "Here comes trouble."

"How do you know?" asked Jane.

"There's no other s.h.i.+p but our own on this division tonight and those lights coming toward us aren't the riding lights on a night hawk."

Jane departed on the run, and snapped off the light in the cabin. It would be dawn in another half hour, but for the coming thirty minutes the tri-motor, running without lights, had a chance of escaping the other plane.

The motors labored under a full charge of gas as the big s.h.i.+p rocketed along at 170 miles an hour. Once or twice the needle on the speed dial mounted above the 170 mark, but Charlie couldn't hold it there.

Jane watched the lights of the other plane. They didn't appear to be any nearer. Perhaps the bandits, after spotting their quarry, would be content to wait until dawn and then make a quick thrust.

The stewardess wondered if the pursuing plane was radio equipped for even as she left the pilots' c.o.c.kpit, the co-pilot had been pouring out a warning of their danger.

It was nerve-racking business as Charlie Fischer piloted the tri-motor with all of the skill of his big hands. In and out of clouds they dodged, now at 8,000 feet, and again at 6,000, but always the relentless pursuit was with them. The sky lightened and Jane knew that the crisis was near. She wanted to go ahead and talk with Charlie and the co-pilot, but she didn't dare leave her pa.s.senger.

Mrs. Van Verity Vanness yawned and threw off the blanket which had s.h.i.+elded her shoulders. She sat up and looked out into the gray light.

Jane answered her summons.

"We're having company," said Mrs. Van Verity Vanness, pointing toward the other s.h.i.+p, a black biplane, which had drawn near.

Jane didn't dare tell her the truth about the other plane.

"Just some pilot up early," she said lightly, but her heart was far from feeling that way.

Their own plane dove sharply, and Mrs. Van Verity Vanness gasped and clutched the arms of her seat.

"The morning air is a bit rough at times," explained Jane rea.s.suringly, but she knew all of the time that the quick dive had been a maneuver of Charlie's to give them more time. She wondered about the army planes which had taken off from Des Moines. If their radio was working, they should arrive soon.