The Flying Reporter

by Herbert Strang

  CHAPTER XIII

  Jimmy Has an Adventure with a Bootlegger

  It was nearly ten o'clock that night when the two young fliers walkedinto the _Morning Press_ office in New York, tired but happy. Jimmy hadfiled his story as soon as he could get away from the crowd and writeit. A hasty bite to eat had followed, and then the two young reportershad hopped off for Long Island, which they reached quickly and withoutincident. Now Jimmy was waiting to see the managing editor.

  He did not have to wait long. Mr. Johnson soon sent for him. Jimmy tookJohnnie with him, and the two stepped into the managing editor's office.

  "Well, Jimmy, I'm glad to see you back safe and sound," said Mr.Johnson. "Sit down and tell me about your trip. I have about come to theconclusion that any time news is scarce hereafter I shall send you outon an assignment. You seem to have more adventures than any reporter Iever heard of. When I hired you, it was to _get_ the news. I neverdreamed that you would also _provide_ the news. As I recall it, I paidyou a certain sum to act as pilot, and I had to increase your payconsiderably when you blossomed out into a reporter as well as a pilot.Now I suppose you'll be asking for still more money because you _make_the news as well as report it."

  Jimmy laughed with the managing editor, who was evidently feeling wellpleased. "I'll be glad to tell you about my trip, Mr. Johnson," he said,"but first I want to introduce my friend Johnnie Lee. He's your newreporter and he helped to make the news to-day."

  "Johnnie, I'm glad to know you," said Mr. Johnson, shaking the lad'shand warmly. "You certainly made a fine start with the _Press_. It wasmy idea that you were to come here as a cub, and start at the verybottom of the ladder. But it looks as though you have been learning sometricks from Jimmy. I suppose you'll want a raise right away." And themanaging editor laughed heartily.

  "No, sir," said Johnnie. "I don't want anything more just now than achance and enough to live on." Then he added, "But I'll try to deservethe raise before very long."

  "You had better borrow a rabbit's foot from Jimmy," chuckled Mr.Johnson. "He carries them in every pocket. He has--excuse me, until Ilook at these."

  A copy boy had just brought him proofs of Jimmy's photographs.

  "Jimmy," said the managing editor, after looking at the proofs, "justwhat breed of rabbit is it that you get your rabbit feet from? You havethe greatest luck of any fellow I ever knew. You've got the mostremarkable picture here that's been taken since--since--well, sinceClint Murphy snapped Forest O'Brine working on the engine of theendurance plane, the _St. Louis Robin_, 3,000 feet above the ground.That picture was a wonder. But you've got one here to equal it. It's aclose-up snap of that woman parachute jumper dangling from her plane."

  "I'm mighty glad it came out good," said Jimmy, "but I didn't take it.Johnnie snapped all the photos while I flew the ship. It's his picture,Mr. Johnson."

  "It doesn't matter who snapped the camera," said the managing editor."It took two of you to get it. We'll surely beat the town on this."

  "Yes, we shall," replied Jimmy. "There wasn't another plane in the airwhen she was performing except our two ships. Nobody else could havegotten a close-up of the thing."

  "I'd just like to know, Jimmy," grinned the managing editor, "exactlywhat breed of rabbit you cultivate. You take a tip from me, Johnnie, andget some feet from this same breed. Now you boys run along. I've got toget to work."

  Jimmy introduced his friend to Mr. Davis, the city editor, who wouldhenceforth be Johnnie's boss. Then he made Johnnie known to several ofthe reporters. Finally the two young men left the office and went toJimmy's boarding house, for they had decided that they would roomtogether. In a little while they were both asleep, but at intervalsthrough the night Jimmy dreamed about the accident to the parachutejumper that he had witnessed.

  He saw little of Johnnie thereafter, for their hours did notsynchronize. Most of the time Jimmy's work was done in daylight hours,whereas Johnnie went to work early in the afternoon and worked untillate at night. But they roomed together, sleeping in separate beds, andleft notes for each other, and could of course see each other whenoccasion demanded.

  The days passed quickly. Johnnie learned rapidly. Jimmy had fewassignments of an exciting nature. His luck seemed to have deserted him.He carried pictures, transported reporters, covered a few unimportantstories. Time hung heavy on his hands. Meantime the autumn passed andwinter came. It came with a rush and it came early. Almost over nightthe balmy days of Indian summer changed into days of fierce winds andicy chill. From all parts of the country came reports of intense cold.Almost in a twinkling navigation in the north was tied up. The lakes andstreams were frostbound and frozen. Steamers were caught in the ice, farfrom land. Suffering was intense. Deaths were reported in many quarters,due to the cold. Isolated lighthouse keepers and the dwellers on remoteislands were cut off from communication. In many of these isolatedplaces food and medicine ran low. The weather itself, with the attendantdifficulties of travel, the deaths, the hardships, all consequent uponthe intense cold and the deep snow and ice, became a leading story.

  Day after day, belated tales of freezing, hardship, death, heroicrescues, blizzards, storms, and other phases of the weather, or storiesincident to the abnormal cold, came trickling belatedly into the office.The managing editor watched this news with growing interest. He hadlived, in his younger days, on the very northern border of the countryand even in Canada. He knew what these periods of cold and storm meantto the people living in isolated places. And so, when one day there camea belated despatch to the _Press_, saying that a feeble wireless messagehad been received by a boy wireless operator in Smithville, in northernNew York, telling of the plight of people on a neighboring island, inLake Ontario, the managing editor was filled with both interest andsympathy. The island was absolutely cut off from communication with themainland by the terrible ice, food was running low, and a whole familywas dying of pneumonia because of the lack of certain medicines.

  "It's really a story for the Montreal or Rochester papers to cover,"thought Mr. Johnson, "but up to this time they haven't done it. If wecould slip in there ahead of them, we'd not only do some real good, butwe'd bring a lot of credit to the _Morning Press_. I believe I'll seehow it looks to Donnelly."

  He called Jimmy on the telephone and told him about the situation. "Doyou think you could reach the place safely with your plane?" he asked.

  "Let me look at my maps before I answer you," said Jimmy.

  Jimmy studied them a moment. "If I flew to Smithville, which is only sixor seven miles south of Sackett's Harbor," he said, "and hopped off fromthere, I should not have to fly over more than a few miles of water.There are several islands in a straight line close to Smithville. Incase of a forced landing, I could probably make one of those islands. Ithink I can do it all right, and I'll be glad to go. It won't take sovery long to make it, either."

  "Then get your ship ready at once. I will have a physician make up apackage of medicines and write down some directions to be followed incaring for patients with pneumonia. You take the stuff out to the islandand find out how many are ill and how ill they are. Leave the drugs andthe directions. Fly back to Smithville and communicate with me fromthere. Then we can determine what should be done further. Perhaps youwill have to take a physician to the island. We'll do all we can to helpthese poor people on the island."

  When all was ready, and Jimmy had his medicines aboard, he hopped offand headed straight for the Hudson, up which river he flew as far asAlbany, where he swung to the left and followed the Mohawk River toRome. Thence he followed the railway tracks direct to Smithville, wherehe landed in a great snow-covered field. He had had his plane equippedwith skis, and the snow did not bother him at all.

  Jimmy climbed out of his plane and walked into the village to ask somequestions. He wanted to know about the possibility of making a safelanding at the island, whether or not he had selected the safest route,and what was known in Smithville concerning the condition of the peo
pleon the island. He found the lad who had heard the wireless message, andhe got information on all these points. He was soon satisfied that theislanders needed help, and that he had chosen the very best way to getthere. The villagers told him he had estimated the distance correctlyand would have to cross only a few miles of the lake. But there waslittle open water, they said, and the chances were that in case of aforced landing he could get down safely on the ice, which was verythick, and also rough. Jimmy said he had a radio sending set and askedsome of the radio fans to listen in for him during the next half hour.Then he prepared to hop off.

  To his surprise, another plane soared into the sky from a point near thelake shore on the other side of the village, just as Jimmy was aboutready to take off. He looked at the plane with dismay. Another newspaperwas going to beat him, he thought, and beat him by the tiniest ofmargins. But when he suggested as much to the townsfolk who had gatheredabout his plane, they laughed. Also they winked their eyes.

  "Never mind about him," they said. "The only medicine he carries is forsnakebites. He flies back and forth between Canada and points along theshore hereabout. Just what he carries we don't know for sure, but we canall guess. He'll go right on over to Canada."

  Relieved, Jimmy hopped off, headed straight out over the frozen laketoward the first island, and opened his throttle. He did not like thelooks of the rough ice beneath him, and he meant to reach the island asspeedily as possible. Soon he saw that he was flying faster than thebootlegger ahead of him. But as he had only a few miles to go, hethought he should hardly overtake the man.

  On they flew, Jimmy following straight after the other plane, and allthe time creeping up on it. To fly to the island took less than tenminutes. Yet Jimmy was glad enough when he neared the shore, for he didnot like the looks of the rough pack ice beneath him. He had juststarted to circle over the island, in order to search out a landingplace, when he noticed the bootlegger's plane acting crazily. Jimmy sawat once that something was wrong with the craft. Also, he saw that thepilot, who was already at the farther end of the island, was making adesperate effort to turn and effect a landing. The ship came down fast,landing on ground that was none too smooth, but was apparently notharmed, though the running gear might have been broken. About that,Jimmy could not be sure without a close inspection.

  Sweeping completely around the island, Jimmy saw that there was nobetter place to land than the open space in which the bootlegger hadbeen forced down. So he came down cautiously, in as easy a glide as hecould make, ready to give her the gun instantly, should the place proveimpossible. But he found a long, fairly smooth stretch before him, andset his ship down neatly in the snow. She slid for some distance, thencame to rest in perfect safety.

  Jimmy hopped from his plane and looked about him. On one side was theother flying machine, and the pilot of it was walking toward him withgreat speed. On the other hand, at a considerable distance, was a littlegroup of houses, doubtless the residences of the stricken islanders. Butthey were evidently not all stricken, for several men could be seencoming toward him.

  For a moment Jimmy stood looking at them, trying to count them. He wascurious about these isolated islanders, and not a little sympathetictoward them. He wondered what sort of people they would prove to be. Andhe was eager to get their story, and to deliver the medicines. He wasalso curious to know what manner of man the bootlegger would prove tobe. And presently, hearing the latter's step at hand, he spun about toface him, and found himself looking into the barrel of a revolver thatthe approaching bootlegger had leveled at him.

  Jimmy's heart began to beat violently. He was so utterly taken bysurprise that he did not know what to do or say. For a moment he wassilent. The bootlegger did the talking.

  "Get back into your plane," he said sharply.

  Jimmy did as ordered. There was nothing else to do. To his astonishmentthe bootlegger climbed into the plane after him, shut the door, and satdown in one of the seats. The revolver he still held in his handmenacingly.

  "Take off as quick as you can," he said gruffly.

  Jimmy glanced at the advancing islanders and played for time.

  "What's the big idea?" he asked, trying to appear calm, though his heartwas beating a tattoo against his ribs.

  "I just put a connecting-rod through my crankcase," growled the man.

  "Then you want to be ferried ashore," said Jimmy. "Just as soon as Ispeak to these men I'll take you. I've got a package for them."

  The man raised his pistol. His face was black as a thunder cloud. "Ifyou know when you're well off, kid," he snarled, "you'll do what I tellyou. Hop off and hop off quick, or I'll drill you full of holes and flyyour old crate myself." Jimmy saw that he was in a tight place. He swungabout and hopped off. He headed straight back for Smithville.

  "Turn her in the opposite direction," growled the man, "and just keepgoing."