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diff --git a/78136-0.txt b/78136-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1fe8072 --- /dev/null +++ b/78136-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,992 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78136 *** + + +[Illustration: Dan looked up to see the sneering faces of Frenchy +Morenz and Jerry Blackwell.] + + + THE BOY WHO COULDN’T FLY + + By Charles S. Verral + +“She’s a Ross Comet, Murph!” Dan Sutherland said. “Look at that wing +dihedral and that split undercarriage.” + +They stood at the top of Frazer’s Hill and watched the red monoplane +go swooping over the town of Newton in the valley below. The April +afternoon sun was strong and Dan shaded his face. His blue eyes +sharpened with excitement. + +Murph glanced uneasily at the intent face. “They all look alike to me,” +he said, shortly. “Come on, Dan. I’ve got a tennis date.” + +But Dan stayed where he was. + +Murph tried again. “Ah, let’s go. That crate’s beating it.” + +The red plane wasn’t. It had flown the length of the town and was now +coming back, skimming low over Main Street. Dan caught his breath as +the Comet roared over the white bank building, barely fifty feet above +its roof. + +“I’ll bet your Dad’s loving that,” Murph said. + +Dan was thinking the same thing. He could visualize the effect the low +flying was probably having on his father, the president of the bank. His +dad had no sympathy with aviation. It was the one thing Dan could never +understand about him. + +“You _fly_?” his father had said the one time Dan spoke of it. There +had been something like horror in his voice. “No! That’s unthinkable, +Daniel!” + +His father hadn’t said why, but his eyes had dropped to Dan’s crippled +right leg encased in its steel brace. And to Dan that glance had been +full of meaning. + +He’d wanted to cry out, “You don’t understand, Dad. That’s the very +reason I want to fly. I haven’t any freedom on the ground. People feel +sorry for me. In a plane it’d be different. I’d be free as the wind.” + +But, Dan had said nothing. And from then on he’d kept his increasing +interest in flying hidden from his father. + +He knew he could never be a transport pilot. All he’d wanted was to +hold an amateur license. And after that to enter aviation in some +ground capacity where his crippled leg wouldn’t be a handicap. + +Dan had worn a brace on that leg as far back as he could remember. His +father had told him he’d been hurt in an accident when he was very +small, an accident that had killed his mother. But his dad wouldn’t +talk about it and no one in town volunteered information. The accident +had occurred before the Sutherlands had come to Newton. + +And now, as Dan gazed at the sleek monoplane scooting past the bank +building he thought bitterly. In two years he’d graduate from senior +high and then take the position in the bank that his dad had arranged +for. All his life would be spent in that white building. There’d be +no red monoplane for him--ever. + +Murph’s voice cut in, “Come on, come on,” he said, gruffly. + +“What’s biting you, Murph?” Dan asked, his eyes never leaving the plane. +“Look at that, will you!” + +The Comet had suddenly zoomed and was now racing up, the sun +polishing its wings to glistening vermilion. The roar of its engine +became a whine. Dan judged it had reached six thousand feet when the +ship leveled, humped over and dived. The wings flipped around +slowly ... once, twice. Now faster. + +“Holy smoke!” Dan said. “A spin. Murph! A spin! He’s aiming right at the +school!” + +The Ross Comet came plummeting down, wings whipping. Dan’s long face +whitened. Maybe the pilot wasn’t stunting. The ship had already +dropped two thousand feet without straightening. Maybe the pilot had +lost control! + +Color welled over Dan’s high cheek bones. “Get her out of it!” He +wasn’t conscious that he was shouting. “Jam the stick forward! Give +her opposite rudder and aileron. Hurry!” + +As if the pilot had heard his words, the Comet’s wings straightened. The +machine bulleted down in a power dive. Then, the nose came up. The ship +flattened and, with a bellow, careened away. + +Dan blew out his breath. The guy was a swell pilot. + +“Whew!” Murph gasped. + +The monoplane streaked across the residential section, climbing. Dan saw +it circle over the grounds of the Blackwell house. + +“Maybe he’s a friend of Jerry’s,” Dan said. Jerry Blackwell had been +away to flying school the previous summer and had come back flaunting +an amateur license. + +“Naw,” Murph said. “Jerry hasn’t got a friend.” + +But, Dan thought, Jerry had plenty of friends even though _he_ wasn’t +one of them. Jerry was the school’s star athlete; he owned a fast +roadster; he had lots of money and.... A sudden thought flared across +Dan’s mind. Jerry had boasted that his dad was going to buy him a +plane.... + +Dan turned to Murph. “Could that be Jerry’s plane?” + +Murph’s full-moon face flushed. “Well--yeah, that’s right, Dan,” he +said. + +“You knew it all the time?” + +“I guess I did,” Murph said miserably. “Jerry was spreading the word +around after school that a Ross pilot was flying his crate down. Jerry +had him primed to put on that stunt, looks like.” + +Dan said, “Oh,” and turned away. “You could’ve told me, Murph.” + +“I didn’t because....” Murph stumbled. “Ah, you know.” + + * * * * * + +Dan shoved back a shock of blond hair that had fallen over his face. +Distantly he realized that the Comet was now flying across the valley +in the direction of the airport. + +“It’s going to land,” Dan said. “I’m going over.” + +“Aw, nuts,” Murph said. “Don’t do that. You and Jerry....” He left the +sentence hanging. + +Dan said, “I’ve got nothing against Jerry. And I want to see that +plane.” + +Murph scowled. “You got nothing against that guy? How about your smashed +model?” + +Yes, how about it, Dan thought. That had been his first serious run-in +with Jerry. There’d been others since. But that first time ... It’d +happened last summer at a local gas model meet. Dan had worked hard on +his plane, had turned out a good job. On its first timed run it had +flown far across the airport, landing in tall grass. Jerry Blackwell +had gone in pursuit of the model in his yellow roadster. When he’d +come back, he’d brought the smashed wreckage of the ship with him. +He’d said that he’d found it cracked up. It’d been Murph who’d put the +first doubt in Dan’s mind. He’d pointed out the buckled fuselage and +said, “Jerry never found her like that.” + +But there’d been no proof. And when Jerry’s model had won the meet, his +father had been so proud he’d given him a flying course. And now--a Ross +Comet. + +No, Dan hadn’t forgotten. But he turned to Murph and said, “Maybe it was +an accident.” + +“Nuts,” Murph said. “Well, if you haven’t anything against Jerry, he +sure doesn’t love you.” + +“Why?” Dan asked. The question had bothered him for months. + +“For one thing you’re too smart for him up here,” Murph said, tapping +his head. “I know you don’t mean it but you’re always showing him up. +Not just in aviation but in everything. A grandstander like Jerry can’t +take it. And....” + +“What?” + +“Oh, nothing,” Murph said. “But I wouldn’t go down there, Dan. Please.” + +Dan stood with his legs spread far apart. He thrust his hands deep +in the side pockets of his tan corduroy slacks. Then he said, “I’m +not afraid of Jerry. And I want to see that plane. I’m going to the +airport.” + + * * * * * + +Ten minutes later, Dan was far down the narrow road, out of earshot, +of Murph’s protests. Dull anger had now replaced the thrill the first +sight of the Comet had brought. That was envy, wasn’t it? Envy for +Jerry, for his amateur license, for his new plane. But Jerry really +didn’t care about aviation, Dan thought. He just saw it as another +way to grandstand. While he.... + +The road, which curved through the rolling country like a care-free +brook, was muddy from a recent rain. Water stood in shimmering pools, +reflecting the blue and cream of sky and clouds. The air was heavy +with the full sweetness of April. + +But Dan didn’t notice as he hurried awkwardly on. He didn’t see the +gently flowing farmland lying in reddish brown molds from the steel of +the plow. He didn’t recognize the cheerful hello of the meadow lark. +Nor did he hear the car until its horn blasted out from behind. + +Startled, he lurched to the side. The long yellow shape of a powerful +roadster _swooshed_ past, doing sixty. It was Jerry Blackwell’s car. +Jerry was at the wheel and Frenchy Morenz, his sidekick, was with him. +The car hurtled on its way, without slowing, without stopping. + +Jerry had seen him, all right. You’d think he’d stop and pick a guy up. +But the roadster pelted over a rise in the road ahead and was gone. + +Dan stopped, shifting his weight to his good leg. Maybe Murph was right. +Maybe he was just sticking out his neck. Maybe ... But that was silly. +Why should he miss seeing a Ross Comet close up? Jerry shouldn’t mind +that. + +By the time Dan reached the rise in the road, he was tired. Far ahead, +down in the lowland, he saw the air field. Jerry’s car was there, empty +and the Ross Comet was racing across the airport and angling into the +sky. + +The distant drone of its engine was drowned by a clanking of machinery +from back on the road. Dan turned and saw an old Ford roadster. Gus +Petersen’s famous chariot. + +Gus brought the car to a halt beside Dan and threw open the door. +“Airport?” he yelled. + +Dan said, “Swell,” and climbed aboard, sinking gratefully on the patched +cushion. + + * * * * * + +Gus shot him a lopsided grin. “Sweet crate Jerry’s got, huh?” he said as +they got under way. + +“I’ll say,” Dan answered. + +“Jerry had the gang all waiting outside the school for the show. Some +stunting.” + +Dan nodded. + +Gus ducked down to look through the windshield at the climbing Comet. +“They’ll be back. The pilot’s showing Jerry how the ship +handles ... Boy, the whole gang’s heading for here. This’ll start the +club right.” + +“The club?” Dan said. + +Gus drew back and looked at Dan out of the corner of his eyes. +“Yeah ... yeah....” he said hesitantly. “Jerry’s getting up a flying +club ... I thought he’d asked you.” + +“No,” Dan said. No, Jerry hadn’t asked him and probably wouldn’t. But +now Dan knew why Murph had tried so hard to get him to go home. Murph +must’ve known about the club. + +Gus drove on in silence. After a while he said, “You should be in the +club, Dan. You know more about flying than the rest of us. I’ll speak +to Jerry. He just forgot.” + +Dan said, “Skip it.” + +“It’ll be a flock of fun, Dan,” Gus went on. “Jerry’s going to take us +up and teach us to fly.” + +“But he’s only got an amateur license!” Dan exclaimed. + +“What’s wrong with that?” + +“Amateur pilots must not carry persons or property for fees, nor +instruct students,” Dan quoted. “Jerry hasn’t had enough experience. +It’d be dangerous.” + +Gus looked disturbed. “I didn’t know that. Saaay.” + + * * * * * + +The Comet was far over town when the Ford came to a stop beside Jerry’s +roadster at the edge of the flying field. And in a matter of minutes the +rest of the high school gang showed up. They came on motorcycles and in +old cars, the battered jalopies making marked contrast with the sleek +perfection of the yellow roadster. + +Dan liked all the gang. He found himself caught up in their enthusiasm +and for awhile he forgot Jerry. + +But now the Comet was coming back. Dan stood with the others and waited +while the red ship circled the field and came in for a rough landing. +The plane touched her wheels, porpoised, touched again, bounced and +finally settled. + +“Jerry’s at the controls,” Dan said. + +Hank Smith beside him said, “How do you know?” + +Dan started to say, “That was a rookie landing.” But he caught himself +in time and said, “Just a guess.” + +Jerry _was_ at the controls. Dan saw that as soon as the Comet taxied +over. The right cabin door opened and Frenchy and a florid-faced man +stepped out. That’d be the Ross pilot. + +But Jerry remained in the pilot’s seat as the gang of boys crowded +around. Dan went with them, staying to the outside. + +Although the Comet was a cabin job, Jerry was wearing a white leather +helmet. Amber-tinted goggles were over his eyes. His expression was +of bored weariness as if he’d just brought the mail in for the +thirty-second time. With a slow gesture, he swept the goggles back. + +Dan saw that the act wasn’t lost on the gang. + +Then, Jerry looked up. His face brightened as if, for the first time, +he’d seen his friends. He said in an unnatural husky voice, “Oh, hello, +fellows.” + +He stepped from the cabin and leaned against the fuselage, his broad +shoulders slouched. He was handsome, in a beefy way, dark-complexioned +with heavy black eyebrows, a powerful physique. He said, “Fellows, I +want you to meet Ace--Ace Cooper.” + +The Ross pilot shook his clutched hands above his head. “Hi, gang,” he +said. + +Jerry went on. “Ace, this is Gus.” He pointed to Gus Petersen. “This is +Hank ... and Tom....” He went around the half circle. When he reached +Dan, his eyes stopped momentarily and then swept on. He didn’t say, +“This is Dan.” + +Dan moved away, embarrassed and angry. But he hadn’t come to meet the +pilot. He just wanted to see the plane. + +He walked slowly around the Comet, taking it all in from spinner cap to +the trailing edge of the balanced rudder. He touched the taut fabric +almost with reverence. The ship was a honey. + +Later, when the gang had broken up and Dan, in his detachment, had lost +track of time, he heard Gus Petersen’s voice. He had taken Jerry aside +and was talking to him. Dan caught his breath. Surely Gus wasn’t.... But +he was. Dan heard enough of his low-pitched words. + +Then came Jerry’s reply, loud and clear. “Join the club? No! That +cripple can’t fly!” + +Dan stepped back, his ears ringing. Then, he turned abruptly and went +past the suddenly hushed boys, almost without seeing them. He heard +Frenchy snicker. He stumbled as he reached the road for his eyes were +hot. He didn’t look back as he headed for home. + +“That cripple can’t fly!” But Jerry didn’t realize. Jerry didn’t know. +He _could_ fly. He’d “flown” the Night Hawk for hours and hours. + +And he’d “fly” her again as soon as he could get to her hangar. + + * * * * * + +Half an hour later, Dan was hurrying down the driveway of his home. +He went past the rambling brick house to the yard beyond. Belle, the +colored cook, was at work at the kitchen window. She called out, +“Aftahnoon, Mistah Daniel.” But Dan needed more than Belle’s smiling +black face. He reached the barn and went inside. He passed the old +cutter, thick with dust and cobwebs. He gripped a rung of the ladder +which led to the hay loft and clumsily pulled himself up. Near the +top, just under the trap door, was the sign he’d crudely lettered +years ago: + +PRIVATE--THIS MEANS YOU. + +He pushed open the trap door and scrambled through. He hadn’t been up in +the loft for a long time--the place where he’d spent most of his days as +a kid. + +He stood there beside the open trap door. He looked across the loft with +its peaked roof and rough gray beams. In the sunlight streaming through +the small window he saw the Night Hawk, dusty and forsaken. + +Its wing was sagging. The covering had fallen away from the left +elevator. Cobwebs clung to the fuselage. + +Could this misshapen thing be the splendid Night Hawk? Could this be +the ship he’d so proudly built with his own two hands out of scrap +lumber and odds and ends? + +Then, into his mind came a picture of Jerry’s Comet, trim of line, +powerful and sure. And Dan saw the Night Hawk as she actually was, a +crude, dilapidated plaything. + +He leaned back against the wall. There, before him was the ship he’d +hurried home to fly. + +It had been built five years ago, fashioned with enthusiasm, before he’d +attained carpentry skill. Its high wing held extraordinary curves. The +framework of the fuselage was covered with strips torn from bed sheets. +The undercarriage owed its existence to the remains of a tricycle. + +Yet, the Night Hawk had ailerons and elevators that worked when the +stick in the cockpit was moved. A rudder that wagged when the pedals +were shifted. It had an under-sized propeller with blades cut from +sheets of tin and attached to an old electric fan--a propeller that +revolved when a switch in the cockpit was snapped. + +Dan had spent hours in that cockpit, sitting on a cut-down kitchen +chair, with his hand on the control stick and his feet jammed against +the rudder pedals. The instrument board was packed with round pieces +of cardboard, each in its proper place, each pencilled to represent +the dial of a particular instrument. The altimeter ... R.P.M. ... Oil +pressure ... Airspeed indicator ... and the rest. The throttle was +there. The switches. + +The Night Hawk had started as a toy and become much more. Dan had +studied every available book he could get on flying--books on +meteorology, on the theory of flight, on navigation and aerobatics. +And sitting in the Night Hawk, with the cardboard discs becoming real +instruments, with the controls working and the tin propeller swishing +over, Dan had put himself through a strenuous series of flying +lessons--translating the printed word into the movement of rudder and +aileron and the flickering of instrument needles--drilling himself +patiently until he knew every maneuver, every reaction. + +That had been years ago. As he’d grown older he’d felt self-conscious +about the crude machine. He’d transferred his books to his room and +continued his secret studies there--secret because of his father’s +disapproval of aviation. + +And as Dan stood alone in the quiet of the loft, with his gaze still on +the Night Hawk, he remembered those long-ago flights--and he remembered +Jerry’s stinging words. + +But now--now the crude ship was dissolving before his eyes. And in its +place the real Night Hawk was forming. A Night Hawk sheathed in shining +dural; her high wing wide and firm; her fuselage streamlined. She was +straight and true and splendid--the splendid ship she’d always been. +The ship that had carried him through fog and storms, across oceans and +deserts. The Night Hawk was there--waiting for him. + + * * * * * + +Dan took a step forward. His eyes were bright. And, barely conscious +of what he was doing, he reverted to the old game he used to play. It +wasn’t hard to go back. It wasn’t kiddish. It was real and fine. + +He said, “Hey, Sam. Run the Night Hawk out. I’m taking off.” + +He went to a box nailed to the wall, took an old flying helmet from it, +shook off the dust and put it on his head. Goggles were slipped over his +eyes. He hurried toward the Night Hawk. + +“A bad night you say, Sam? ... That fog won’t worry me. I’ve got to get +the mail through.” + +He stepped into the cockpit and sat down on the chair. He fastened the +safety belt around his middle. He gripped the stick with his right +hand and inserted his feet on the rudder pedals. Carefully now, he ran +his eyes over the instrument panel, checking everything, moving the +controls. The ailerons and elevators and rudder moved stiffly, their +rusted hinges protesting. + +Dan pushed the inertia starter. The hum of the electric fan sounded. +The tin propeller blades turned over slowly, shakily. He worked the +throttle, listening to the roar of the motor that had now become a +powerful radial. + +Then, he stuck his head over the cowling and yelled, “Be seein’ yuh, +Sam.” He threw off the brakes. + +It was night. The runway which headed into the wind was illuminated. Dan +guided the Night Hawk to it and threw the throttle wide. + +The Night Hawk thundered down the concrete strip, past the blurred rows +of red and green lights. The tail came up. The airspeed needle stood at +seventy. Dan eased back on the stick and the Night Hawk arrowed up into +the darkness. + +At three thousand feet he leveled off. He was flying now. In his +imagination ... yes. But flying. Look, down there ... those lights ... a +town ... Newton ... the main street ... the movie theater ... the neon +sign in front of Joe’s Barbecue. + +And Jerry had said, “... can’t fly.” + +But Jerry hadn’t known about the Night Hawk--the Night Hawk that could +fly as well as the Comet. It had been in tight spins just as the Ross +ship had that afternoon and come out of them. + +And, still in the powerful grip of his imagination, Dan pulled the +Night Hawk up, up on her nose until she stalled, until she fell off on +one wing and plummeted earthward. Then, he kicked the rudder, threw the +stick over and forced his ship into a spin. + +The Night Hawk shrieked down, wings whirling. Dan rode the cockpit, +feeling the dizziness of the spin. But he knew what to do. Use your +head. Keep cool. Above all don’t let panic get you. Now, stick +forward ... Full opposite rudder and aileron ... See, she’s coming +out. She’s in a straight dive ... Now, neutralize the controls and +pull the stick back. + +The Night Hawk leveled and went screaming on her way. Dan leaned over +the coaming and patted the side of the fuselage. “Nice going, Night +Hawk,” he said. + +Then, clear and unmistakable, he heard a human sound--a snicker. He +looked up. And his imaginary world collapsed. + +Standing near the trap door were Frenchy Morenz and--Jerry Blackwell! + + * * * * * + +Jerry said, “Nifty ship.” + +Frenchy snickered. + +Dan’s face whitened. He fumbled at the catch of his safety belt. He +tried to speak and found his throat dry. How had they ever come up +here? Belle must’ve told them where he was. + +He said finally. “What do you want?” + +Jerry swaggered over. A smirk was on his big face. He looked down at the +Night Hawk. “Isn’t she a honey, Frenchy?” he said. + +Frenchy was laughing. He peered into the cockpit. “Look, Jerry,” he +said. “Look here. He’s even strapped in!” + +Jerry roared with mirth. “You oughta be wearing a chute,” he said to +Dan. “I’ll report you to the Department of Commerce.” + +Dan sat where he was. His face had gone from white to brick red. “What +do you want, Jerry?” he said again. + +The laughter left Jerry’s face. He moved closer to Dan, stood over him, +his broad shoulders squared. “I came to say something to you, wise guy,” +he said. “I’ve heard what you said about me not having enough experience +to give instruction. The fellows won’t go up with me now. You’ve wrecked +my club.” + +“I didn’t mean to break up the club,” Dan said. “It’s against the +law for an amateur pilot to instruct. I just told Gus for his own +safety....” + +“And for _your_ safety, you’d better keep your trap shut!” A gleam came +into Jerry’s eyes as he looked at the Night Hawk. “I don’t think your +word will mean much now.” + +“I betcha he’d die of fright if he ever got his feet off the ground,” +Frenchy said. + +Jerry was glaring at Dan. “I’ve taken enough of your lip. You’ve tried +to show me up once too often ... You stay here and play with your toys, +and leave _real_ flying to me ... Come on, Frenchy.” + +Jerry turned and went down through the trap door. Frenchy followed. + +Dan stayed where he was. He heard the two boys leave the barn. + +No one had ever known about the Night Hawk ... not even Murph or Dan’s +father. But now Jerry knew and Frenchy. What would they do? + + * * * * * + +Dan went to school the next morning prepared to face ridicule. He was +sure that Jerry had spread the secret of the Night Hawk. He hoped that +he could take it with a wisecrack and a grin. But nothing happened. + +And as the morning wore on, Dan waited in suspense. He knew Jerry +wouldn’t let such an opportunity pass. Something would happen. + +And at noon, while Dan was in the cafeteria, something did. + +It was the day the weekly school paper was issued--a single multigraphed +sheet. Dan heard the burst of laughter even before he opened his paper. +Then--he knew. + +There, spread right across the page in big letters for everybody to see +was: + +EXTRA! EXTRA! DESPERATE DAN SUTHERLAND REVEALED AS FAMOUS HOT AIR ACE. + +Underneath was: Newton’s Aeronautical Genius Unmasked. + +Practically the whole sheet was given over to a reporter’s fanciful +interview with Desperate Dan Sutherland. It told with cruel exaggeration +about the Night Hawk. There was a cartoon of a ramshackled airplane with +a caricature of Dan in the cockpit. + +Dan tried to keep a grip on himself but he wanted to get up and run. The +fellows were all shouting at him, calling him Desperate Dan. In an hour +the name had swept the school. + +Dan tried to grin, tried to wisecrack. But it was tough going. The +afternoon seemed never-ending. + +Murph walked home with Dan. “Some day I’m going to blacken Jerry’s +eyes,” he said. + +“I can take it, Murph,” Dan said. “Don’t worry.” + +“You were swell,” Murph said. “They won’t keep it up if they think it’s +rolling off your back.” + +But they did keep it up--the next day and the next. Then, on the third +day, the kidding suddenly dropped off. + +Dan caught Jerry talking quietly to Frenchy and some of the gang. He +wondered if they were up to something else. + +After school as Dan came down the steps he saw Jerry sitting in his +roadster. Jerry said, “Hi, Dan. How about a lift?” + +Dan said, “Thanks. I think I’ll walk.” + +“Aw, don’t be like that,” Jerry said. “I’m sorry about that kidding.” + +Dan looked at him. “You are?” + +“Sure,” Jerry said. “Come on. Hop in.” + +Dan thought, “Jerry isn’t fooling me. He’s up to something. But I might +as well bluff it through.” He got in the car. + +Jerry put the roadster in gear and rolled it down the drive. “Let’s be +friends, Dan,” he said. “I’m driving out to the airport. Want to come?” + +Dan said, “Just drop me off at home.” + +Jerry laughed. “Still afraid, huh?” + +“I’ve never been afraid of you,” Dan said. “I’ll go.” + + * * * * * + +When they got to the air field Dan saw a bunch of cars. And Jerry’s gang +was grouped around the Comet. + +Jerry pulled the roadster to a stop and got out. “I’m taking Desperate +Dan up for his first hop,” he said. + +Dan started. “No, you’re not.” + +Jerry spread his hands expressively. “See, gang. I told you he was +yellow. He’s hot stuff in that toy ship but when it comes to the real +thing....” + +Frenchy said, “Yeah. Didn’t I say he was afraid to really fly,” and +snickered. + +It was that snicker that got Dan. He looked around at the crowd. The +fellows were watching him, waiting for his answer. + +Dan took a deep breath. “All right, Jerry,” he said quietly. “I’ll go.” + +Jerry’s smirk widened. “Now you’re talking ... Okay, Frenchy, drag out +the chutes. Put one on Desperate Dan.” + +Dan had climbed from the car. “Chutes? What’d we need chutes for?” + +Jerry looked amazed. “Don’t tell me that an expert like you doesn’t +know that parachutes must be worn for acrobatic maneuvers,” he said +and winked at the gang. + +“You mean you’re going to stunt?” Dan said. “That’s dangerous. You +haven’t had enough experience.” Right after the words left his lips +Dan knew that it was exactly the wrong thing to say. + +Jerry’s face darkened. “I’ll show you if I’ve had enough experience. +Unless you’re scared and want to back out.” + +Dan said, “I told you I’d go, didn’t I?” + + * * * * * + +But when he was climbing into the Comet’s upholstered cabin, Dan +thought, “You’re a fool. Jerry’s going to grandstand before the gang +and try to frighten the daylights out of me. He’s liable to crash.” + +But it was too late to change his mind now. Jerry was in the pilot’s +seat beside him. + +Dan shifted the webbed chute harness that criss-crossed his body and +tried to look composed. But he was far from that. + +Jerry had worked the starter. The engine caught. The prop whirled. He +jazzed the throttle, then eased it back. “Fasten your belt,” he said +curtly. “You’ll need it.” + +Dan obeyed. He felt the Comet vibrating under him. The drumming of the +engine was in his ears. His uneasiness increased. + +Jerry released the wheel brakes. As the ship moved forward, Dan saw a +car turn in from the road and come to a fast stop. Two figures jumped +from it and started running toward the plane. The first was Murph. And +that tall man behind him was--Dan’s father! + +Dan gasped. How had his dad ever come out here? Murph must’ve heard +about Jerry’s scheme and told Dan’s father. And now they were trying +to stop the take-off. + +But there was no stopping. Jerry had seen them and didn’t wait. Instead, +he rammed the throttle wide. The Comet lunged ahead. + +Every muscle in Dan’s body was taut as the monoplane’s speed increased. +He tried to relax, tried to reason with himself. He had to see this +thing through now--no matter what Jerry did. + +He saw the stick go forward. He felt the tail lift. The airspeed needle +was crawling up. The sea of grass whipped past. Then, Jerry brought the +stick slowly back. + +There were no bumps. Just even sailing. Dan realized they’d taken off. + +The Comet climbed slowly and gradually Dan began to feel better. He +looked down and thrilled at the sight of the earth dropping away. He +was actually flying. This was what he’d imagined it’d be. + +Jerry held the Comet’s cowled nose high. The altimeter showed one +thousand as the minutes passed. Two thousand. Three. + +Jerry levelled off and looked at Dan. “How do you like it?” he asked. +The soundproof packing around the firewall shut out the noise of the +engine. + +Dan grinned. “It’s swell,” he said and meant it. + +Jerry’s eyes narrowed. “Well, get a load of this.” + +He kicked the rudder, threw the stick and whipped the ship around in a +steep bank. Dan felt himself thrown violently against his belt. Before +he could catch his breath, the Comet dropped its nose and dived, engine +howling. + +Dan clutched at the edge of his seat. The monoplane was standing on her +nose. The earth was rushing up. + +Dan hung on tightly. The thrill he’d felt at the take-off was gone. He +was afraid. Not afraid of flying but afraid of Jerry’s overconfidence. +He’d try anything just to show off. He might try something that he +couldn’t finish. + +The Comet was plummeting for the airport. Dan saw the antlike figures +down there. They grew larger by the second. One of them was his dad. +What was he thinking? What would he do when they landed? If they +landed.... + +Dan shot an agonized glance at Jerry. Had he already lost control? + +Jerry looked back and laughed. He yelled, “We’re going to crash!” + +Dan knew he was kidding, that he was just trying to frighten him. But +unless he pulled out of the dive pretty soon they would crash. + +And they almost did. Jerry held the plunging ship in its wild descent +until it was within four hundred feet of the field. Then, he pulled the +stick back. The Comet flattened out and raced on across the country. + + * * * * * + +Dan leaned back weakly. They’d come out of that okay. But would they +be as lucky the next time? Jerry’s handling of the ship was clumsy. +He wasn’t good enough to stunt. + +Dan wanted to reason with him. But he knew that would only spur Jerry +on. + +The Comet zoomed again. Jerry shouted, “That’s just a taste of what +you’re going to get, wise guy.” + +Then, without warning, he kicked the ship over in a barrel roll. + +Dan’s head was snapped back. He hung tightly to his safety belt. The +plane whirled completely over once. It had started on another revolution +before Jerry could check it. + +He fought the controls. The Comet staggered, fell off ponderously on one +wing, side slipped. Dan saw a trace of fear creep across Jerry’s face. + +But again he was lucky. The ship’s nose fell. She dived and Jerry tugged +her into level flight. + +That’d be all, Dan thought. Jerry’s had enough. + +But that wasn’t all. Jerry’s confidence had come back. He turned to Dan +and laughed. “Now I’ll show you what a loop looks like,” he said. + +A loop! Dan’s body went numb. He said impulsively, “Don’t try it, Jerry. +You almost lost control in that roll. Don’t try a loop ... We’ve had +enough. Let’s land.” + +He wasn’t calling quits. He was using his head. For Jerry to try any +more stunting was suicide. + +But Jerry was forcing the Comet into a climb. He said. “I knew you were +yellow. I’m not through with you yet.” + +Dan didn’t say anything more. He looked down at the earth so far below. +The countryside was a checkered map. There was the airport, the size of +a postage stamp. He thought of his dad down there. His eyes would be +upturned. + +The monoplane was at six thousand feet now. Jerry said, “Get +ready ... Here we go.” + +The ship dived, dived until the wind was screaming. Dan dug his nails +into the palms of his hands. He tried to close his eyes. He couldn’t. + +The stick was coming back. The Comet was zooming up, up, her nose high +to the blue heavens. Dan saw the horizon whip past, the sky flash away, +the earth appear under his head. + +They were upside down, at the top of the loop. + +But the Comet didn’t complete the loop. She wallowed at the top, +inverted. She lost flying speed. She seemed to hang for an indefinite +space of time. Then, with a scream, she slipped off on her right +wing. + +She plunged heavily, crazily. Jerry clung to the stick, holding it back. +In that awful moment Dan saw a spasm of fear sweep across Jerry’s face. + +Then the wings whipped over--and the monoplane went into a tight spin! + +The color drained from Dan’s cheeks. The earth was whirling like a top. +Jerry had both hands on the stick. His face had gone gray. His eyes were +wide. + +The altimeter was dropping fast. The earth tore up. + +Dan shouted, “Push the stick forward! Forward!” + +But Jerry was past hearing. He was frantically tugging at the stick, +working the rudder pedals. The ship held to its tight spin. + +If Jerry didn’t get control, they’d crash. This was no kidding now. + +Then, Dan saw Jerry’s hands leave the controls, snatch at the buckle +of his safety belt. The belt parted. Jerry grabbed the handle of the +left cabin door. He forced it open. + +“Jump!” he yelled at Dan. “We’re goners! Jump!” + +He didn’t wait to see if Dan heard. He dived through the open door. + +And Dan was left alone. + + * * * * * + +Dan’s heart stopped. Jerry had jumped! + +Quickly, Dan unfastened his belt, gripped the handle of the door beside +him. His eyes whipped from the altimeter to the ground tearing up. No! +He couldn’t jump. There wasn’t time. He’d never make it. He’d never get +out of that door with his crooked leg. + +But what would he do? The ship was now plummeting down at top speed. He +fought to hold himself in the seat. + +There was only one thing to do--and Dan did it. + +He forced himself across to the empty pilot’s seat, tugged the belt +around his stomach. His feet found the rudder pedals. His hands grabbed +the control stick. + +The altimeter! When he’d last seen it there’d been twelve thousand feet. +Now it showed nine hundred! + +He forced his panic back. You know how to fly. You’ve flown the Night +Hawk. You’ve brought her out of spins. This is the Night Hawk! + +The Night Hawk. Yes. That was it. He was in the barn loft. He was +seated on that old kitchen chair. The instruments on the board ahead +were cardboard discs. The propeller was made of tin. + +Remember? Stick forward. Close the throttle. That’s right. Full opposite +rudder. Gently. + +Eight hundred feet ... seven ... Don’t look at the altimeter. Don’t look +at the closeness of the whirling world down there. Don’t think of your +dad watching. You’re going to crash unless you keep cool. + +Dan forced himself to obey the commands of his mind. His hands and feet +reacted. The noise of the engine had died but the screaming of the wind +had increased. The spin was slowing. She was coming out. But was there +time? + +Look! The altimeter. Six hundred feet! + +The Comet’s wings revolved again ... once more--then held steady. + +Dan was out of the spin! + +But he was still diving! Five hundred feet from the ground. + +Use your head now. Seconds count. Pull the stick back slowly. Not too +fast. A sharp movement might fold the wings. + +The nose is coming up ... But you’re almost on the ground. Back some +more. + +Dan caught a blurred impression of the airport with its cars, with +people standing in a knot. And far away he saw a white billowing shape. +Jerry in his chute, landing safely. + +The Comet’s cowled nose came higher. Then, she was level. She was out of +the dive--less than a hundred feet up. + +Dan clung to the controls. He was past thinking; past fear. Now could +he land her? Why not? Hadn’t he brought the Night Hawk down time after +time? + +A feeling of triumph began to creep over him, replacing the panic. He +realized suddenly that he was really flying. + +Cautiously he nudged the monoplane around in a flat turn until he was +heading back for the airport. The Comet was gliding lower. Keep your +eyes to the right of the nose. Judge distance. + +You’re almost at the landing field. Trees ahead--a fence. Over the +boundary of the airport. Lower now. Forty feet ... thirty ... twenty. +Stick back slowly. Flatten out. + +You’re almost down. Stick back more. Get the tail down. +Faster ... faster ... You’re almost on the ground. + +Suddenly Dan felt a jarring shock. The ship bounced, hit hard again. It +was down and rolling across the uneven field. + +He had landed! + + * * * * * + +Then, the gang of boys were around Dan. They pulled him from the cabin, +thumped him on the back. They all seemed to talk at once. + +“I saw it! I saw it! That guy Jerry bailed out and left ya cold,” said +one. + +“Jerry Blackwell--the hero of the air. Huh! A yellow bum I call him!” +snorted a thin blond youth. + +“Let’s run him outa town!” they chorused. + +Jerry had gathered up his chute and was walking over to his car. He was +trying to act as though nothing had happened; but he would glance over +his shoulder at Dan and the gang every time he would take three or four +steps. + +“Get the lousy bum!” someone shouted. + +At these words Jerry broke into a run for his car. He clambered in and +was away in a cloud of dust before any of the gang had taken more than +a step. + +“I always knew he was yellow,” came the muffled remark from one of the +boys. + +Dan saw Murph and then he saw his dad. He tried to speak to his father +but he couldn’t get the words out. His dad had a queer expression on his +face. He took Dan roughly by the arm. + +Dan said, “I couldn’t help but go up, Dad. Don’t be mad.” + +His dad looked at him in silence. Then he put his arm around him. His +voice was husky when he spoke. “I’m not mad, son ... I’m proud ... I +saw you get out of that spin.” + +Later when they were in the car his father said, “I read the account +in the school paper. I went to see the Night Hawk ... I didn’t know +you were that interested in flying.” + +“But Dad, I told you. And you said....” + +His father looked straight ahead. “Dan,” he said. “You were hurt in an +accident. And your mother was killed. It was an airplane accident. I was +piloting.” + +“You....” Dan stopped. + +“Yes. I swore I’d have nothing to do with aviation after +that ... But ... you’ve shown that it’s in your blood. What was it you +wanted to do?” + +“Get an amateur license,” Dan said. “And then some ground job.” + +His dad said, “I’m going to give you the best aviation training there +is. And then, if you like, I’ll buy you a plane of your own--a real +Night Hawk!” + + +[Transcriber’s note: This story appeared in the December 1939 issue +of _Air Adventures_ magazine.] + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78136 *** |