Adventure Magazine Cover — page 174: what you’re looking at

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

164 one possible way to land—northward—for the hillside called Goddard Field was on a steep slope, and an up-hill landing was - the only possible method, regardless of the wind. He circled back over Camp Henry, side-slipped over the last row of stables and trees, and straightened out a few feet above the ground. They landed smoothly, and the slope of the hill killed their speed quickly, Hemingwood cutting one switch and retarding the spark to reduce the motor pull to a minimum. “Captain Kennard wants to see you, sir,” the orderly yelled in Hemingwood’s ear before he had run out the gas. After cutting the switches Hemingwood lost no time in reporting. ‘““How did the shoot go?” inquired the captain. : ‘“‘Good—five rounds was about the aver- age, I guess, but we knocked the targets galley west.” “T’m glad of that,” stated the relieved -C. O. ‘“Hemingwood, what do you say to a trip to Dayton and back today?” “‘What’s the occasion?” inquired the sur- prized Hemingwood. The captain told him concisely. ““You’re the only man who has made the trip,” he concluded, ‘‘and it won’t be any cinch unless this fog lifts. However, I’ll leave it up to you as to whether you go or not.” “Oh, I’d just as soon go,” was the careless reply. ‘So the sergeant is going along, is he?” | The captain grinned. ‘“‘And he isn’t looking forward to it a bit, either,” he replied. “For Heaven’s sake be careful though, Duke. I don’t like the idea of carrying sulfuric acid on a ship. Better go a long ways out of your way to make sure of good fields in case of a forced landing—a crack-up with that acid ie “Might be uncomfortable,” agreed Hem- ingwood, lighting a cigaret. ‘‘When do we start?” “As soon as your ship is ready. They’re filling it now.” Woodruff’s gangling form could be seen slowly proceeding toward the line. He carried helmet and goggles. “Ts the fog lightening?” “Maybe the fog is, but the clouds seem to be getting lower all the while,” said Beaman. “I’m glad I’m not going.” The captain paced the office for a mo- Adventure ment. ing through the mist was gone—apparently it was low clouds more than fog now that darkened the earth. “Don’t worry, cap’n,” said Duke blithely. “We've got to get those pictures, the clouds are plenty high enough, and there’s no reason to get wall-eyed over the trip.” From the Duke’s point of view the mis- sion was a matter of course. He was abso- lutely unruffled by any abnormal conditions in flying. “Well, go ahead, George,” said the cap- tain at length. “But don’t take any foolish chances. Those pictures aren’t worth a crack-up.” Hemingwood strolled to the line, where his motor was already being tested. Scud- ding clouds seemed to be just escaping the tops of the low mountains a few miles away. They looked to be several hundred feet lower than they had been fifteen minutes before. There was a fairly strong wind likewise. The pilot looked at Woodruff’s sour face with a grin on his own brown countenance. “After you get through with this jaunt you'll never let sulfuric leak again, ser- geant,’’ he stated. Woodruff did not reply. He had already regretted that incident to the bottom of his heart; in trying to bother Captain Kennard he had slung a boomerang. ‘Climb in,” ordered Duke when Sergeant Decker finally nodded that everything was “II don’t think we ought to go in this weather,” said Woodruff hesitantly. His face showed a little white beneath the tan. “Don’t your? We’ve got to get those pictures, and this time you’re not running the works,” stated the pilot. He carefully tested each switch, and studied his instrument-board more carefully than was his wont. An air-line to Dayton would carry him for a hundred miles over the wild mountain country. It never entered his head to follow the Ohio River to Cincinnati, which would be the safest route, although longer. He taxied to the top of the hill, close to the trees which bounded the northern edge of the field. He fed the throttle to the engine, and held-his big ship-a few feet from the ground, nosed down to follow the slope. Fifty feet from the stables on the southern d NOOK The sunshine which had been filter- | (©