Argosy All-Story Weekly, November 12, 1927 — page 55: what you’re looking at

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

KERRY OF THE “You know it, dear!” came the cheery reply. But for the first time since he,had seen the strange maneuvering of the rival plane in the first hour of his flight, Glenn Kerry’s tace showed a look of concern. His barom- eter indicated that he was flying into the storm. The rain came in great floods from the sky and beat so hard against the plane that it could be heard even above the roar of the motor and the air blast. It pelted against the propeller and seeped in over the windshield. He made an attempt to get above the storm by soaring to more than ten thousand feet, but when the thermometer began to drop sharply, he came down again for fear that ice would form on his wings and weigh him down. It was during this climb that the coffee in the vacuum flask became so chilled that it was useless for the balance of the flight. But troubles are all comparative. Cold coffee at a snug dining room table is a calamity; but here were greater problems. As darkness came on, the wind howled and the rain continued to pour down. There was an unintelligible shout from Betty. He throttled the motor to hear her. “ Don’t go to sleep, dear!” came the half bantering instruction of the courageous girl in the cockpit. Somehow, this bantering tone of the girl inspirited him more than anything else could have done. Indeed, there was no danger of going to sleep. It would have been impossible to sleep. The storm was entirely too violent. Looking out of the cockpit into the dark night was like glancing into a pool of mk. But Glenn Kerry pressed on without fear. Here was to be a real battle with the ele- ments, a battle no less trying than those in which he had engaged over the lines during the war. Then he was a soldier of his coun- try; now he was a knight as chivalrous as any who jousted centuries a-gone. He was breaking a lance for the advancement of his lady, jousting with fate for the glory of the Sheldon interests. His compass was working all right. His consumption had been low; only a third of his supply had been used on the flight 4A AIR MAIL. thus far. More than witk anything else, Glenn was pleased at the low gas con- sumption, which had been economized by the new air-valve invention. His plane had well over a hundred gal- lons of fuel left, at ten miles to the gallon enough for well over a thousand miles— enough to reach the island of Oahu if he could run out of the storm and Providence was on his side. XII. Back in New Brunswick an old man and his son were drinking in every report of the unprecedented air venture, Dick Sheldon with the bright optimism of youth, his father with the touch of fear that comes with age and the rude batterings of life. Their radio was on continuously, in order that they might not miss a single one of the periodical reports coming from a powerful station in New York City and relayed over the entire country by means of a hook-up. Sometimes the older man dozed, only to awake with a nervous start at the tones of the announcer. Dick, looking very sleepy, but neverthe- less bright-eyed, had found that his nerv- ous system would not allow him to sleep. These reports were important to the whole world, but they had a keen personal edge for these two listeners in New Brunswick. This is what they heard: “Ladies and gentlemen, this is Station WLX. It is officially announced that the Trico plane, by being the first to set its wheels on. the ground at Crissy Field, San Francisco, wins the first prize of twenty- five thousand dollars in the sensational non-stop transcontinental race. The Cald- well entry, the only other plane to com- plete the trip and to land, is the winner of the second prize of ten thousand dollars.” “ But we'll win the prize of fifty thou- sand dollars!” exclaimed Dick, trying to keep up the waning spirits of his father. “ And, dad, you’d better get ready for those orders that will be pouring in. Your ship made it first. Not landing was a mere technicality—to cop a bigger prize.” “Tf I could have my daughter right here, Dick,” replied the older man, “I think I’d almost quit the business entirely.” Eomichbooks 529 com