Air Wonder Stories, July 1929 — page 51: what you’re looking at

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

THE BEACON OF AIRPORT SEVEN The drone of the passenger plane was soon heard flying overhead. It landed several minutes later alter gradually circling down. Following a hurried refueling and change of crew it took to the air again, fifteen minutes late. At the same time an- other plane was reported from the east, thought by Jameston to be a tourist ship, as the sealed express was not due for almost an hour. The pilots who had brought in the passenger craft were being interrogated by Clark and McCrea at the landing area, “Well, I am glad that you report the light as O.K., at least for this evening,” the executive said. “I am inclined to the belief that the other pilots may have been at fault. Perhaps—” “Just a moment, Mr. Clark, the observer on the hill is flashing a message. Write it down Royce, as I spell it out.” The group fell silent as McCrea announced the message letter by letter and all were dimly aware of its significance even before Tommy read it aloud. “Observer No. 1,—Peculiar refraction or parallax noted at 8:21, when beacon apparently moved down several hundred feet to angle of seven degrees below my level. Relay man at tower also apparent- ly lower with his light in answering my message.” “McCrea, that seems impossible; its all right from here!” Clark exclaimed. “What about that other plane that was just sighted? Where is it now?” No answer was necessary, for the throb of approaching motors could be heard distinctly in the still evening air. Royce was the first to pick up the wing lights, showing just above the hill top and almost directly behind the beacon tower. The relay man was waving his tiny flash- light wildly, for it could be seen at times by those tensely silent at the airport. “He is going to crash!” “No, he will clear if only he won’t try to fly directly over the beacon; why doesn’t he turn!” The plane, at the last moment climbed upward and to the right but as the watcher breathlessly waited for the red wing light to flash clear from the upper corner of the tower, there was an ap- parent collision, followed by the swerve of the free wing tip, when the mass settled to the ground half way down the dark hill side and burst into flames. For a single dazzling instant the brilliant beam on its westward swing outlined a tiny figure high in the air. The sound of the crash was not heard at the service area until the light had swung away to the north. In that instant Tommy was reminded of the first crude talking pictures he had seén as a boy in which the action on the screen at times preceded the sound sequence, The rest of the night was a nightmare to those at the airport. The flyer who had collided with the tower miraculously escaped with only a broken ankle, owing to a new type instantaneous self-open- ing parachute he had been wearing. It was he the others had seen outlined in the beacon’s glare, just as he was catapulted from his plane. The parachute had in a measure checked the speed of his fall before he landed dangerously close to the blazing wreckage. He was a tourist with a penchant for night flying, traveling in a small monoplane, 49 An emergency radio sent by the now frightened executive to Airport Six to hold all planes landing there that night, was too late to stop the freighter, already on its way toward the fateful light. After an agony of suspense the watchers breathed a sigh of relief when the plane was finally reported with five thousand feet elevation and several miles to the south. Prepared for and fully expecting a severe reprimand for bringing his ship in forty minutes late, the chief pilot was complimented by the chief executive for his excellent work; so sur- prising him that he later said in an aside to Tommy, that it was “almost as bad a shock as if I had washed out on Sentinel Hill.” The beacon was not satiated until it had wrecked one more ship, a private touring plane, shortly after midnight. Flying too low, under the delusion that the beacon was still below him, the pilot with his family as passengers, was barely able to clear the hill, to land awkwardly at the edge of the airport and nose over. From their cots in the now crowded emergency hospital, they reported later that they had passed Airport Six without stopping, intending to buy fuel at Number Seven to take them on to San Francisco before morning, CHAPTER IV} The Three Investigate HUGE bandaged figure was seated beside the door of Tommy’s room at the barracks upon his return from the company break- fast hall the following morning. “Hello, Tommy.” “Why, hello, George, how are you? It looks as though you ought to stay in bed for a few days longer.” “No, I’m alright,” Boyer replied. “This dizzy beacon business has been on my mind until I can’t rest in the hospital, so I came over to see if you and Tillotson wouldn’t come with me to scout around and see what we can find.” “Yes, we shall be glad to go; wait until I call him.” “T borrowed a car from one of the boys; I'll be waiting with it in front here.” The huge pilot moved away with a pronounced limp. Tillotson was waiting with Tommy when Boyer returned with the machine, A short drive skirting the edge of the fenced landing area brought them to the northern tip of the low hill on which the beacon was located. “Can we drive around to the east side, Tommy?” Boyer asked. “T believe so; take this road to the left. There is a dim road to that house on the east slope of the hill—here it is. I remember seeing it from the air.” The road led around the point of Sentinel Hill toward a long low adobe house lying directly east of the beacon. They came to an abrupt stop at a barb-wire fence surrounding the place. A weathered wooden gate was before them. “The gate is locked, George. There’s a big padlock on that chain around the post.” “Say, Tommy, who lives here?” Boyer, turning off the motor, reached in his shirt pocket for a ciparette, comnlicloooks.com