The Flying Reporter

by Herbert Strang

  CHAPTER XIV

  Taking Help to Marooned Islanders

  Jimmy obeyed the command with alacrity. There was nothing else to do. Ina moment he was flying on precisely the same course he had followed incoming to the island from Smithville. Soon he was beyond Duck Island andheading for Prince Edward, that great, bold Canadian peninsula thatthrusts out far into the lake. A long point of land reached straight outtoward Duck Island. Jimmy could see this point easily, for it was hardlymore than a dozen miles in an air-line. At some distance from the end ofthis point were small islands, and they were almost in Jimmy's line offlight. Five or eight minutes of flying would take him to land again, sohe had no apprehensions about the short flight over this reach of openlake.

  But Jimmy wasn't at all comfortable in his mind about other aspects ofthe situation. If the bootlegger wanted simply to be carried across toCanada because his own plane had gone bad, that was one thing. Jimmydidn't in the least object to ferrying a man over a dozen miles oflake--even a bootlegger--if the man was in trouble. But would that bethe end of the matter?

  Now that the bootlegger's own plane was out of commission, he mightdecide to take Jimmy's. That wasn't such a pleasant prospect. But therewas still another angle to the situation. If the man seized the plane,would he not almost necessarily feel compelled to get rid of theevidence of his crime? In short, would he not find it expedient to getrid of Jimmy? When Jimmy thought of the old saying, so commonly quotedby criminals, that "dead men tell no tales," he could feel the coldshivers run up and down his spine.

  Jimmy wanted to turn around and talk to his captor. He felt as though abullet might come crashing through his back at any instant. It seemed tohim that he simply must look around and face the bootlegger. Yet hehesitated. The man had told him to fly straight on. That was evidentlywhat the fellow wanted--to get to his destination. He was getting there,and he seemed satisfied. Jimmy decided that the best course was toattend to his flying and make careful note of the country over which hepassed, together with the compass bearings, rate of speed, prominentlandmarks, etc., so that if he had the opportunity to fly back, he couldfind his way. So he centred his whole attention on the matter ofnavigation and soon found that he felt relieved in mind. He could thinkbetter. He was not so oppressed by fear.

  But Jimmy had far less time for thought than he had anticipated. In sixor seven minutes he had reached the tip of the Prince Edward peninsula,and in twenty minutes he was over the very heart of this body of land.Still he kept on as straight as the crow flies.

  Now, for the first time, his unwelcome passenger spoke. "Set her down inthe open space just ahead," he said gruffly.

  Jimmy eased his plane toward the ground and throttled down his engine.The uniform whiteness of the snow made it difficult for him todistinguish the contour of the ground. But as he came lower, he saw thatthere was a great, smooth area ahead of him that had quite evidentlybeen used for landing planes. The snow was streaked with the longparallel marks of giant skis. Jimmy picked out a pair of ski marks andset his ship down safely almost in the very treads he was watching. Theplane slid safely to rest. The landing ground was in a lonely region,and not a house or a human being was in sight.

  "Get out," said the man brusquely.

  Jimmy stepped from the plane. His captor followed.

  "Now that you succeeded in tracking me down, what do you intend to dowith your information?" he demanded, as he toyed with his revolversuggestively.

  "Tracking you down!" exclaimed Jimmy, amazed. "I don't even know whatyou are talking about. I never saw you before, never heard of you, andcertainly never tried to trail you. Where did you get that idea?"

  The man looked at him uncertainly. "Ain't you one of them governmentprohibition agents?" he asked.

  A great light dawned upon Jimmy's mind. He actually laughed. "That's agood one," he exclaimed. "So you took me for a 'dry' agent. No, I'm nota government agent. I'm a newspaper reporter. I represent the New York_Morning Press_. Look at the name on the side of my ship."

  "I can't read," said the man. "It makes no difference if you are anewspaper man. You was on my trail."

  "You've got another guess," said Jimmy. "I flew up here to carrymedicines to some people on Duck Island who are sick. We just got anewspaper despatch telling about them. There's a whole family dying overthere because they lack medicine. Nobody could get to them because ofthe ice. My boss used to live up this way, and when he read the despatchhe sent me up to help them."

  The bootlegger looked at Jimmy intently. "You don't look like you waslyin'," he said.

  "Of course I'm not lying," protested Jimmy.

  "Here's the medicine." And stepping into the plane, he picked up thebulky package he had been transporting and opened it.

  The rum runner looked at it and then at Jimmy. "Say, kid," he blurtedout suddenly, "you're all right. To think you'd come clean from New Yorkand risk your life flyin' over the lake just to help some sick folks. ByJoe! I'll look in on them folks myself, next time I go over the island.If they need help, they need it quick I reckon. So you'd better be onyour way. I'm much obliged for the ride. Maybe this'll square thingswith you." And he reached into his pocket, pulled out a huge roll ofbills, peeled off a one hundred dollar gold certificate and thrust itinto Jimmy's hand. "Now you better hustle," he said.

  Jimmy was too much astonished for words. He did not want to take theman's money. He wanted less to cross the fellow, for the rum runner wasquite evidently a desperate character. Wisely, Jimmy decided to go whilethe going was good. He handed the bill back to the man.

  "Thanks," he said. "It will be worth more to me if you will look afterthose people on the island. Spend the money for them. I probably can'tget up here again. Good-bye." And climbing into his plane, Jimmy was offas soon as he could lift his ship from the snow. He opened his throttlewide. In a minute he was far away, beyond the possible range of anypursuing bullet that might come his way. He breathed freely again, andflew straight as an arrow back toward the island.

  Once fairly aloft, Jimmy began to meditate on his adventure. Suddenly anidea came to him. "Gee!" he thought. "I'm sure glad this was such anisolated place we landed in. I don't believe there was a soul withinmiles. It was a good thing, too. Nobody could get my license number. Ifany one had noticed it, I might get into a jam with the Canadianofficials for landing on Canadian soil without clearing the customs.Well, I guess I had a good excuse, anyway. But just the same, I'm gladnobody could get my number."

  As he approached the island, he saw a group of people clustered aboutthe bootlegger's airplane. They were examining it carefully. Evidentlythey had been much mystified by what had taken place. They camethronging eagerly about Jimmy's plane as he set it down in the snow.

  Jimmy stepped from his ship, with the medicines in his hand. "I am fromthe New York _Morning Press_," he said. "We received a despatch a fewhours ago from Smithville, saying that you were cut off here by the iceand that people were very sick with pneumonia and lacked medicines. Mypaper has sent you the drugs you need, and some directions for usingthem."

  When Jimmy saw the expressions of gratitude that came on the faces ofthe people about him, he felt that he was more than repaid for anythinghe had done or could do to help them.

  "Come with us," they said. "We want you to talk to some of the peoplethat are in trouble."

  Jimmy went with them. Neighbors were caring for the stricken family. Oneor two of the ailing ones were too sick to be seen. But Jimmy was ableto talk briefly to the mother of the family and the oldest boy. He gotfrom them their story, which was a startling tale in itself. The entirefamily of seven--father, mother, and five children--had gone, some dayspreviously, to pay a visit to friends on the mainland. The lake was notthen frozen so solidly. There were wide, open leads of water, which madeit easily possible to reach the mainland. The visit lasted several days.Just before the return home, the great cold wave came. When they werehalf-way to the island, their motor went dead. A stor
m came up, and theydrifted helplessly before it for twelve hours. The waves washed intotheir boat until they were all drenched. They could do nothing but sitin their boat and pray that the ice would not crush it. Their situationhad finally been discovered, and hardy neighbors, taking their lives intheir hands, had launched the most powerful boat on the island andfought their way to them. Thus their lives were saved for the timebeing, although every one of the seven was stricken with pneumonia, andit looked as though two of the seven might die. There was just a chancethat the arrival of the medicine might arrest the disease.

  Jimmy was powerfully affected by this recital. He had seldom been soclose to human suffering. Never had he been in touch with people sopitifully situated as these folks had been. Glad, indeed, was he that hehad attempted the journey, and that there were great newspapers like hisown, to take upon themselves the relief of suffering and the righting ofwrong when other agencies failed.

  One thing was sure, Jimmy thought. These suffering ones certainly musthave medical treatment. And so, taking a hasty departure, he flew backto Smithville and got into touch with his chief, setting the storybefore him fully.

  "Get a doctor and rush him to the island," Mr. Johnson wired back.

  Jimmy secured the only physician in the neighborhood, loaded the doctorand the necessary supplies in his plane, and was soon back on theisland. The medical assistance came in time. The doctor was able to giveimmediate treatments and to leave directions for further care.

  As for Jimmy himself, nothing was too good for him on the island. Theinhabitants would have given him almost anything he asked for, sograteful were they for his efforts in their behalf. But Jimmy wantednothing. He was more than repaid by their gratitude and theirfriendship.

  It was with real regret that Jimmy said goodbye to these new-foundfriends. He was amazed to see how rapidly a mutual feeling of regard hadsprung up between these people and himself in such a short time. Heunderstood, of course, that this was because of the unusual conditionsunder which they had come to know one another. When the time fordeparture came, he shook hands with them all, promised to come back tothe island some time, and then ferried his doctor back to Smithville.And now he went winging his way home across the great Empire State, tohis old quarters at the Long Island flying field.

  Weeks later Jimmy learned that the rescue efforts he had set in motionhad been wholly successful. Every one of the seven sufferers hadrecovered. But more astonishing than that was the news that for a weekafter Jimmy's departure, the sick islanders had daily treatment from theSmithville physician. The rum runner from Canada had flown the physicianback and forth every day, as long as it was necessary, in a new plane,and had concluded the matter by paying the doctor handsomely for hisservices.

  Jimmy mused over this for quite a while. "It just shows," he concluded,"that the poet was right when he said there is so much bad in the bestof us and so much good in the worst of us that we ought to be mightycareful what we say about anybody."