Air Wonder Stories, December 1929 — page 29: what you’re looking at

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

tense, and he plainly chafed at the delay in getting all the crew off as he watched every single movement of the apparently drunken craft above. Presently a bell sounded: Captain Markson picked up a receiver and held it to his ear. “Good!” he said. “Bring the men down at once. What? One man went over the side? Sorry! Is No. 12’s skipper with them?” I heard a faint voice coming through the tube. It was muffled. “No!” the voice said: ‘He refuses to leave his ship. She’s carrying a valuable cargo and he won't desert it!” Captain Markson swore under his breath. “Send the men down!” he shouted, “and stand by on the hull. until I talk to the skipper!’ He swung to his instruments. ‘The screen glowed, revealing the objects in the television room of the wreck. Markson pressed a button; I heard the signal as it vibrated furiously in the other ship. But no answer came back and Captain Markson picked up the tele- phone again and ordered the rescuers into the ship. The captain was spending precious moments trying to get a word to the skipper of the lost ship, while No. 12 was pitching madly and threatened to drop down upon us at any moment. I myself was getting extremely nervous, as I watched each sickening plunge of the ship, Then, suddenly the reproducing units of the tele- vision instruments crackled. I glanced at the screen. The ‘freighter’s commander had reappeared. “Thank you for saving my men, sir!” he was saying: “T can not leave—I'll face the music. Better get -out from under at once! minute!” “Don’t be a fool, captain!” Captain Markson growled. “To hell with that notion! Drop down now and we'll pick you up!” “Sorry, sir!’ the man said, a peculiar tone in his voice: “I go down with my ship!” Captain Markson stamped a foot on the floor in a rage. : ‘I’m asking you to drop down now, skipper!” he roared: “T’ll give you two seconds to decide. If you refuse, then be damned to you!” “Pick-up my cargo,” the man argued, “and I'll go with you!” “Go to hell!” Captain Markson swore: “I've got to make Tokio on time! I have the mails, and I’m ninety minutes late now! Are you coming down?” Scarcely had Captain Markson finished his sentence than No. 12 suddenly shuddered. Three of her whirl- ing screws stopped dead. She tilted her nose, upward for an instant and made a sickening half-roll over. But ee Markson was not to be caught napping in such a dangerous position. He bellowed an order and the Eastern Star came to life; with a terrific recoil she shot ahead as No, 12 plunged downward. I heard a series of rapid-fire explosions; the wrecked ship's hull seemed to open up suddenly and spew boxes, bales and mechanism. A fragment clattered against the steel hull of the Eastern Star; it sent a ringing echo reverberat- ing through the ship, The Eastern Star roared ahead, rapidly gaining velocity. Captain Markson stood staring into the screen. I walked to his side. The screen re- vealed the tramp’s skipper again; his face wore a mask of taal his lips drawn tight and bloodless across his teeth. “Did you ask if I was coming down, sir?” he said with a trace of humor which manifested itself in the face of inevitable death. I admired him for it. Here _ indeed was a brave man—a man who could laugh and, , FLIGHT OF THE EASTERN STAR She won’t stay up another . jest with the hand of death grasping at his throat. “Well, Captain,” he continued: ‘I don’t know how far I’ve come, but I went down a hell of a way!” Then he laughed loudly, almost hysterically, I thought. “You had your. chance, skipper!” Captain Markson said, coldly. I stared at him curiously. Though his words were cold and gruff, his face disclosed both ad- miration and sorrow for this man who’ was plunging to his death: “But after all, I guess you're right! There’s no getting away from tradition! A man's got to go with his vessel, no matter whether it’s an airship or lumbering water packet! God be merciful to you 13 The perishing captain laughed maniacally, and waved a hand as the screen sputtered and died: I walked away with a deep feeling: of regret, arid glanced downward. Far below No. 12 plunged like a plummet. Presently I beheld a small round patch of white; she had ‘struck the billowing waves of the Pacific. A moment later I heard a muffled splash. That was all! “Poor devil!” Captain Markson remarked, shaking his head. The Eastern Stor roared westward toward Tokio, her first scheduled stop. Far off our port scudded a huge airliner. I watched her with growing interest. The insignia, barely visible at the distance, told that she was of our own line, the International Airway Express; her driving exhausts, like our own, were spouting blue flame, The sun smote her abeam and she glistened like a thing of virgin gold. Then she dropped from view into the east. ~ Despite the late hour when we arrived, the air over Tokio was crammed with the quaint but speedy air- craft. typical of the Orient. The Eastern Star came to a graceful landing at an anchoring tower, chaper- oned by a half-hundred droning planes, their sirens shrieking-a welcome. Tokio was enjoying one of its annual air carnivals, staged until the late hours of the evening. Craft be- decked with genuine and painted flowers raced through the air with rollicking abandon; yet they remained at a safe distance away from the regular air lanes. I watched them, ‘fascinated, as they cavorted hither and yon, lighted brilliantly from batteries of high-powered floodlights spread. on the ground below, Ikamono Wrens, Hirashimoto Gulls, the more cumbersome Gho- chang metal blimps, and many other types of craft dotted the skies, piloted by care-free revelers. It was an open season for American tourists; and our pas- senger list boasted of many Middle-Western school teachers, bent on seeing pleasure-loving Japan. I too felt an urge to desert the Eastern Star here at this delightful time, to enjoy the carefree carnival from a comfortable roof-top apartment -in the American Quarter. For, after all, I had three weeks in which to enjoy my flight around the world. So it was with delight and anticipation that I or- dered my luggage ’chuted to the landing. I had en- countered plenty of excitement crossing the Pacific, Here was more—of a different sort, more inviting to the heart of a pleasure-seeking bachelor. I would remain in Tokio for three days; then board once again a great liner, and continue my flight around the world. T sought out Captain Markson and First Officer Mad- den and bade them good-bye. They seemed surprised at my decision to stop over in Tokio, and expressed their disappointment at not having me with them for the remainder of the flight; but I assured them that I would surely be with them on But the remainder of this flight bore little excitement (Continued on page 556) next vacation tour. . —comicbooks.com