Bill Barnes Air Adventurer, July 1935 — page 15: what you’re looking at

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

AIR ADVENTURER the major’s plane. A shell burst within a few feet of him. Shrapnel cut his wings to ribbons and set his stays twanging. The undercarriage was shot away ; canvas flapped in the wind; wires dangled as the ship nosed downward. Shorty nosed his plane down, gunned his engine and went after him. He groaned as the major’s ship skidded off to the right. He knew that the major was groggy and didn’t realize that he was flying his ship deeper and deeper into enemy territory. As Shorty whipped his plane around in front of the major’s he waved his arms. The major was bending over the stick with a half-stupid stare on his face. His left shoulder was soaked with blood. His helmet and goggles were gone. His hair and forehead were a matted mess of red. Zooming, diving, cutting in so close he could almost reach out and touch the other plane Shorty tried to attract the major’s attention to his direc- tion. | The major refused to be driven from his chosen course. He maneuvered his plane to avoid crashing into Shorty but he paid no attention to him other than that. Then the nose of his ship dropped. Shorty gasped with horror. He could never Jand safely with the undercarriage all shot away. But land he did. He brought his plane down as lightly as a duck alighting on water. Shorty glanced up and over his shoul- der and saw that they had left the snarling dog fight far behind. He de- cided that he would stick with the major and try to get him out of his plane and astraddle the empennage of his own and take him back home. The major was sitting in the cockpit, barely conscious, when Shorty ran over to him. His eyes were glazed and his head rolled drunkenly from side to side. He stared at Shorty as though he had never seen. him - before. .- Then © he smiled. 13 “What ho!” he said. “Can you get out of there alone?” Shorty asked. ‘“You’re down in Ger- man territory.” “T’m a bloody sieve, old onion,” the major said. “It’s no go for the old Wyndam lad this time. I’m done up— all boned and rolled and ready for the oven,” ae “Shut up!’ Shorty roared. He leaned over the side of the little ship and tried to lift the major. The major feebly pushed him away. “It’s no use, old bean,” he protested. “T have my ticket west. Drop the jolly old family a note for me.” He raised one hand with painful ef- fort and fumbled with the top of his flying suit. When he had it open he shoved a hand down inside his tunic and brought out a doubled sheaf of papers with an elastic band around them. He shoved them toward Shorty with a ghastly smile. “Deed to that property in Madagascar we talked about. I think I won’t be able to help you develop it after the War. Give you an idea what’s what if you decide to go out there. Pip-pip, old egg !” His chin dropped slowly. His eyes closed, like the eyes of a man exhausted. Shorty shook his arm frantically. , He had to ask him one question before he died, if he was going to die. He had to know. “Did any of my bullets get you, Virg >” he asked in a shrill voice. “Did I pot you when’ you cut across my sights? There was no answer. The major’s arms hung straight down at his sides, his legs sprawled grotesquely. Shorty knew his question would never be answered. The major was dead, SHORTY probed the sky above him as the sound of engines drummed over- head. Three German planes were cir- oO COLA) clo@olx< CO