Bill Barnes Air Adventurer, July 1935 — page 27: what you’re looking at

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

AIR ADVENTURER there and rip this thing wide open. I know how you feel and I’m glad you feel that way. The rest of the gang will feel the same way. If you won't stick with us we’ll stick with you.” They shook hands. Shorty protested against Bill’s decision. “Tt will cost a small fortune to take the whole crowd,” he said. “And it may cost a-few. lives. “It's my. fight; Bill. I don’t want you to mess in it. It may be just a wild goose chase. You never knew these people. They don't mean anything to you.” “You knew ’em,” Bill said, simply. “That’s enough for me.” “But Bill——” «listen! = Bill said. -- You = ktow Sandy’s favorite expression? Nuts! Mell thats ovhat. | say to. you. if youre in this thing we're all in it! That’s what this organization is for. If we can go out and take a chance on get- ting our heads shot off for other people we can do it for ourselves. Now shut up!” Bill’s eyes were flashing. He was pacing back and forth across the room with long, powerful strides. “All right, old Richard the Lion Hearted — Shotty.. erinned=- . Ye'll put on our go-away pants and hop for Madagascar. It'll give us a chance to christen the new carrier-transport. And who knows ss “Hotcha!’’ Sandy’s voice said from the doorway. “I was just looking the place up in the encyclopedia. It says they have a man-eating tree there.” His eyes were gleaming, his freckled nose screwed up. Shorty had an impulse to make a wisecrack, but he just slapped Sandy on the back so hard that Sandy staggered. “Tf it hadn’t been for your nosey in- terest in medals I’d never have found those papers,” he said. “T’m a valuable guy to have around.” Sandy beamed modestly. 25 IV-—-NARROW ESCAPE WITHIN AN HOUR Barnes Field became a place of feverish activity. “Scotty” MacCloskey, the chief en- - gineer, and Martin, the master mechanic, worked their perspiring men at top speed checking over the gigantic carrier- transport, two Snorters and Bill’s Scar- let Stormer. A dozen mechanics and half as many sheet-metal men were busy making minor adjustments and repairs on the sleek-looking ships. Bill Barnes stood beside the monster bomber and trans- port, dressed in high-topped boots and breeches. His light, flannel shirt was open at the neck. His hair was tousled and his blue eyes were shining with pride as they ran over the big ship he had designed and had constructed in his own factory at Barnes Field. What a beauty she was! Her sixteen-foot props gleamed dully in the glare of electric lights as a me- chanic blasted the two fifteen-hundred horse power, supercharged Diesel en- gines. Above and behind the mechanic in the pilot’s seat was a circular platform on which was mounted one of the new, rapid-firing one-pounders that could throw one hundred one-inch shells in the space of a minute. In the midships section of the trans- port was the hangar of the Eaglet, Sandy’s fast little fighter. Suspended by its landing hook from an overhead girder, the latest Eaglet was locked rigidly in place on the girders, and hung with its cockpit just above the level of the deck. | Behind the Eaglet’s hangar was a re- tractable maching-gun turret that could be lowered below the bottom of the fuselage. Farther down on the port side were two lavatories, with shower stalls and wash basins. On the starboard side was Bill’s priv- ate cabin with his own private bath. A oO CoMmichoolk (©