Adventure Magazine Cover, June 18, 1921 — page 16: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

6 Adventure final stunt Tex sideslipped down to the ground with George hanging on the vertical fin. They just touched, but one of the wheels crumpled up, without either Tex or -Hickman knowing it, and they lit out for McMullen with one wheel gone. “We got a wire from Donovan Field and stopped ’em from landing by blocking the field with cars, ships and everything else, sig- naled ’em what was wrong, and they finally made a peach of a landing with Hickman hanging on one wing to keep the wheelless side off the ground and Tex handling the D. H. like a feather. The movie man had wired old Phillips down here, who has a movie camera and does some work for the weeklies, and old Philly was right on the ground when they landed, so the whole bunch of pictures in combination were a knockout. ‘“When they were shown just a few weeks ago the light was such in one close-up that Hickman’s hair—naturally yellow—looked like peroxide blond. He and Tex got a lot of mash-notes from women and we got kid- ding George about being a peroxide vamp of the movies until it got his goat. You can’t kid Tex,” he added as an afterthought. ‘Seems to me I must know MacDowell,” said Ransom, as the pair watched the coming ship. ‘‘There’s something familiar about the name, but I can’t just place it. His first name is Lee, isn’t it?” “Right. Best flyer in seven States, too. Watch him.”’ The De Haviland, roaring low over the town, came hurtling toward the field. It swept around the little airdrome in a left- hand turn and then, instead of going north- ward to glide in, tilted up, shot toward the ground in a sideslip, came out in a sweeping skid that caused the inexperienced Ransom to hold his breath for a second, and having killed speed by this method, landed lightly. As it taxied slowly toward the waiting me- chanics on the line Dave could see the famous Hickman standing up in the rear seat. “See that?” inquired Mills. “Tex al- ways comes in some cock-eyed way like that —says it’s good practise for forced landings, and he’s right.” A tall young fellow came out of tent three, yawning sleepily. He was wearing a bathrobe and carrying towel and toilet-kit. He walked with a pronounced imp. As he sighted little Mills in all the glory of his back-to-nature charm he stopped in horror. “Salome at the sink!” he breathed, and then grinned. ‘Been using your bathrobe for a lap-robe again!” he accused. ‘““No—wrapped up my laundry in it,” re- plied Mills. “Ransom, this is Jimmy Jennings, at present a cripple due to mis- taking his altitude and trying to dive eleven hundred feet when he was only a thousand feet high.” ‘Serious mistake. Glad to meet you, Ransom. Welcome to our city, and all that stuff. After betaking myself to yon bou- doir and washing off the dust with cooling x “Sufficient! Kamerad! I apologize!” shouted Mills and scampered toward his tent. With a friendly grin Jennings strolled on toward the bath-house. As Dave followed him with his eyes he thought of all he had heard about that same young flyer. A recklessly brilliant airman, he had nearly killed himself by deliberately ramming the nose of his ship into the ground to avoid hit- ting a truck which was driving around the edge of the field. His motor had cut out on the take-off, and there was no possiblity of clearing the truck, which was occupied by two enlisted men. He could have hit the truck, gone through it like tissue paper and probably remained unhurt himself. As it was, he was just completing six months of pain and enforced invalidism. And Jerry Carter, carrying a doctor from Donovan Field, had lost the use of his elevator controls when the wires snapped. They had been filed by a mechanic who had a grudge against the young commander of the Department Flight, but Jerry had saved the lives of himself, his doctor-passenger and Jimmy Jennings by bringing the help- less ship down with nothing but his motor to keep it level. Truly it was good to be one of the bunch. Til Dave hurried toward the mess-hall. = <@ Once again he was conscious of that uncomfortable feeling that he was a pigmy among giants. As he approached the mess-hall a close- harmony chorus raised their voices in song. Through the open windows came the words, to the tune of “Forty-Nine Bottles Hang- ing ona Wall”: Cex AT THE behest of the dinner-gong =: COmicloo CN Wp) C©