Charlie Fischer took Jane and Sue up to the second floor of the administration building. They entered a broad hall with chairs ranged along each wall and in every chair was a girl.
Jane’s heart sank for she knew instantly that every one of them was there to apply for the position of stewardess. Sue looked at her and somehow managed a brave smile.
“There’s going to be plenty of competition,” she whispered.
Charlie Fischer glanced at the double row of girls waiting to be called into the office of the personnel director.
“Wait here,” he told Jane and Sue. “I’ll see if we can’t manage to slip through ahead of the rest.”
Jane and Sue sat down in the last two chairs along the hall and Jane looked at their competitors. The girls were all about her own age, most of them very attractive to look upon. They were trim and capable and had the calm bearing which their training had instilled.
A secretary came down the hall, taking the names and addresses of each girl. Finally she reached Jane and Sue and they gave their names.
“What is your Chicago address?” she asked.
“We just arrived,” explained Jane, “and hope to see Mr. Speidel this morning.”
“I’m afraid you won’t be able to see him today. There are all those girls ahead of you,” the secretary advised.
Jane’s spirits ebbed but she went on determinedly.
“I have a letter here from the supervisor of nurses at Good Samaritan hospital at University City,” she said. “Mr. Speidel wrote to her asking that she recommend several girls for this work.”
“Yes, I know. Mr. Speidel wrote to a number of supervisors. Almost every girl here has her recommendation from a supervisor, but I’m afraid you’ll have to wait your turn.”
The secretary returned to her desk at the head of the hall and several minutes later the first two girls at the head of the line were called into the office of the personnel director.
“Looks like our flying friend has forgotten all about us,” said Sue when half an hour had elapsed and there was no sign of Charlie Fischer.
Jane nodded a bit dismally.
Slowly the girls were called into the office and Jane knew that there was little chance she and Sue would have an interview that day.
It was nearly an hour later when Charlie Fischer reappeared and instead of coming out of the personnel director’s office, he came up the stairs which led to the ramp. In his hand was a typed report.
“Think I’d forgotten all about you?”
“We had almost given up hope,” conceded Jane.
“I had quite an argument with Mr. Speidel about seeing you girls out of turn. He’s a stickler for detail and fair play and is afraid that if you are taken in ahead of the others they may feel he is playing favorites.”
Jane nodded. She could understand that and she didn’t want to start work, if they secured the positions, under a handicap of resentment by the other girls.
“I didn’t argue long enough to make him mad,” said the flyer, “but skipped out the back way and went down to get a complete report on our flight in. I also checked the hospital to find out about your patient. He’s getting along fine, thanks to the emergency treatment you were able to give him. Now I’m going to hand these reports in and we’ll see what happens.”
The lanky flyer hurried down the hall and went into the personnel director’s office. In less than five minutes he opened the door and beckoned for Jane and Sue to join him.
The young nurses smoothed their dresses and gave their hair a final pat as they hurried down the hall.
The office of the personnel director was large and, like the entire administration building of Federated Airways, was furnished in a modernistic style. One whole wall was of glass, giving a wonderful view of the entire field.
The personnel director looked up from the typed report he had been scanning. He was short and stocky, with dark, close-cropped hair and a heavy face, but his eyes were pleasant and he greeted them warmly.
“I’ve just finished reading the complete report of the fine piece of work you did coming in on trip No. 6 this morning. Charlie tells me neither of you had flown before.”
“It was our first trip,” admitted Jane.
“Then I must say you were remarkably cool-headed under the circumstances. Do you have a letter from your supervisor?”
Jane handed him the envelope from Miss Hardy and he read the letter of commendation thoroughly.
“Your supervisor thinks rather highly of you,” smiled Mr. Speidel when he finished. “Do you really think you’d like flying?”
He shot the question at them unexpectedly.
“There’s danger, there’s a lot of responsibility, and there’s a great deal of work at times,” he went on. “You may be trapped in almost any kind of weather—rain, snow, hail, sleet, fog. You must be calm and resourceful and courageous. We demand a great deal of loyalty.”
“We’ve thought the whole thing over,” said Sue, “and decided we’d like the work. Now, after the trip in from University City, we are certain we are making no mistake.”
“How about you, Miss Cameron?”
“I am sure I would like it,” said Jane.
“Very well. We’ll put you down on the tentatively accepted list. Final acceptance will depend on your ability to qualify under our physical requirements. You’ll find the office of Dr. Emma Perkins at the other end of the hall. Give her this card and she’ll put you through the routine. If you pass, return here at three o’clock.” When they emerged from the office of the personnel director, a little breathless and flushed, it was nearly lunch time.
“I’d like to treat you to lunch,” said Charlie Fischer, “but I’ve got to get down town.”
“Thanks a lot for all you’ve done,” said Jane. “We’ll do our best to pass the rest of the examinations.”
“You’ll come out all right,” prophesied their new friend.
Jane and Sue went down to the restaurant on the main floor where they ate a leisurely lunch. Outside planes were landing and taking off and a constant crowd swirled along the ramp and through the waiting room.
Already the tempo of the whole thing had gotten deep into their blood.
“I’ll be terribly disappointed if we don’t pass the physical tests,” confessed Sue.
“Don’t worry about that. We’re in perfect health.”
At one o’clock they reported at the office of Dr. Perkins and were taken into the examination room at once. Doctor Perkins, small and business-like, put them through the regular routine.
“Humph,” she said as she checked the results. “If all girls were as healthy as you two, there would be little for doctors to do.”
“Then you mean we’ve passed all right?” asked Sue anxiously.
“Your physical report will be 96 per cent, which is unusually high. Take your cards back to Mr. Speidel’s office.”
When Sue and Jane returned to the other end of the hall the line of girls had thinned. They presented their health cards to the secretary and were admitted almost at once to the office.
“It looks like I’m about to sign two more stewardesses,” he smiled as he took their cards. His eyes widened as he read the final report. “Why, this is rather remarkable. Doctor Perkins is pretty much of a stickler for detail. A 96 mark from her is about 99 from any other examiner.”
The personnel officer took two blanks from a pile at one corner of his desk.
“Now we’ll get down to the serious business of enrolling you for the stewardess service,” he said.
“You mean we’ve really got the jobs?” asked Jane.
“You certainly have. Your pay starts today with a salary of $125 a month and uniforms furnished by the system. Does that sound attractive?”
“It’s more than attractive,” smiled Sue.
In less than ten minutes they were formally enrolled as members of the Federated Airways’ stewardess service.
“We’ve signed a dozen girls, including you two, and are sending them all west to Cheyenne tonight aboard a special plane. Uniforms are being made here. Take a company taxi and go to the Barclay Tailors on North Michigan Avenue. They are outfitting all of the girls. Be back at the field at five o’clock. Miss Comstock, who is chief of the stewardess service, will be here. Report to her at this office.”
“Thank you very much, Mr. Speidel,” said Jane.
“We’ll do our best,” promised Sue.
They were in a cab and speeding toward the loop before they relaxed, for the strain of the last few hours had been terrific for both girls.
Sue’s eyes filled with tears and Jane felt her own throat choke up. With their funds so low, securing the positions with the Federated Airways had been essential and now that it was no longer a dream, it was hard to believe.
“Would you mind pinching me to see if I am awake?” said Sue, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief.
“We’re awake all right,” said Jane as the cab struck a bad bump and threw them to the ceiling. The meter was clicking up an astonishing taxi bill and Sue stared at it questioningly.
“Maybe we’d better get out and take a street car down town,” she suggested.
“Don’t be silly. This is a Federated Airways cab. It won’t cost us a cent and the driver will come around and take us back to the field when we’re ready.”
“How do you know?” Sue asked suspiciously.
“Because I took the time and had the good sense to inquire at the ticket office. When I told them we were new stewardesses they gave me a card entitling us to round-trip transportation to the loop in a company cab.”
“I didn’t see you do that,” protested Sue.
“No, you were too busy watching the plane coming in from the west.”
At the tailors they were measured for trim serge suits of a smoke-green. Berets of the same material and color were furnished.
The fitting required an hour and the tailors promised to have the suits in Cheyenne within the week.
“What do you think of the uniforms?” Jane asked as they left the tailors.
“I love them. They’re so trim and business-like, yet feminine at the same time. What a contrast to a nurse’s uniform.”
Jane was willing to admit that the neat, serge suits would be much more comfortable than the primly starched outfits they had been accustomed to wearing.
They had to wait a few minutes until the cab arrived and then they were whirled rapidly toward the field on the outskirts of the city.
When they reached the airport, Jane went straight to the waiting room and sat down at a writing table.
“Going to write home?” asked Sue.
“First of all I’m writing to Miss Hardy back at Good Samaritan. After all, it was because of her interest that we managed to get these positions. Then I’ll dash off a letter home. There’s half an hour before we report to the chief stewardess.”
“I wonder if the folks will object?” mused Sue as she sat down at the other side of the desk and picked up a pen.
“I’m going to tell mine that Miss Hardy felt it an excellent opportunity. They have great faith in her and I’m sure they’ll not protest.”
It was shortly before five o’clock when Jane and Sue reported to Miss Comstock at the office of the personnel director. By five o’clock all of the girls who had been signed for the stewardess service were in the office and Miss Comstock spoke to them briefly.
“When we arrive in Cheyenne,” she explained, “you will go through a two weeks’ training course which I will conduct. The purpose of this is to thoroughly familiarize you with your duties and to acquaint you with the special geographical features of the line for, as stewardesses, you must not only care for your passengers but be qualified to answer their questions. I can assure you that they will ask a great many. While in training at Cheyenne, you will make trips over the routes to which you will be assigned. Since the stewardess service is to become effective June 10th, you understand that we have much to do for I am counting on you girls making a fine record on the line.”
As Miss Comstock finished speaking, a huge tri-motor rolled up on the ramp and Charlie Fischer stuck his head out to look for his passengers.
“Our plane is waiting. We’ll have a late lunch in Omaha,” said Miss Comstock. “I suggest that on the way down you girls introduce yourselves to one another.”
With the chief stewardess leading the way, the girls trooped downstairs. Just ahead of Jane and Sue were two girls about their own age.
They turned around and introduced themselves. The taller one was Grace Huston while the shorter one, a red-head, was Alice Blair.
“We took our training here in the county hospital,” said Grace. “Are you from Chicago?”
“No,” replied Jane. “We flew in from University City this morning. We graduated just last night from the training school at Good Samaritan there.”
“Well, that’s certainly fast work,” smiled Alice. “In less than twenty-four hours you’re starting on a new career.”
“Twenty-four hours ago we didn’t have any idea what we would be doing,” confessed Sue.
“I’m excited about this position,” said Grace. “Think of the thrill of flying day and night through all kinds of weather!”
“I’ve thought all about it,” replied her companion, “and it may be too thrilling once in a while, but it’s a job and a good paying one. How do you like the uniforms?”
“They’re fascinating,” said Jane. “I can hardly wait until they are delivered at Cheyenne.”
“Which reminds me,” put in Alice, “that I’d like to know what Cheyenne is like.”
Her question went unanswered for they had reached the tri-motor and Miss Comstock hurried her charges inside. Jane and Sue were fortunate to find a double seat and Grace and Alice sat directly behind them. The last of the girls’ baggage was placed aboard and the cabin door closed and locked. The big ship trembled as Charlie Fischer opened the throttle. Then it rolled smoothly down the ramp.
Other planes were being wheeled from their hangars and made ready for the overnight runs. The great airport was almost at the height of its daily rush.
Jane, next to the window, saw the dispatcher in his tower signal their pilot to go ahead.
The motors roared lustily and the plane shot down the long runway, lifted smoothly into the air, and started westward, boring into the setting sun in a slow climb.
Chicago faded behind them as they sped over the fertile farm land of Illinois.
Jane relaxed in the comfortable chair and closed her eyes. The nervous strain of the last few hours had been terrific and she welcomed the opportunity to rest and relax. Sue, likewise tired by the day, closed her eyes and both girls dozed.
They were over the Mississippi at dusk with the lights of Clinton, Iowa, visible to their right. Then the plane sped on above the rich acres of Iowa. Below them the headlights of automobiles dotted the highways and an occasional cluster of lights marked a village. Then a field blazed into blue-white incandescence and the beat of the motors slowed.
Miss Comstock came down the aisle and Sue asked her their location.
“We’re landing at Iowa City to refuel. We’ll stay there about ten minutes. You can get out and walk about the hangar if you like.”
There were only a few people at the airport when the tri-motor rolled into the hangar and the girls stepped out of the cabin.
“I’m getting hungry and Omaha is a long distance ahead,” said Grace Huston.
“There’s a restaurant just a block away, by that old hangar,” pointed out Alice. “We could get a chocolate bar there. That should keep off the wolf until Omaha.”
They agreed that chocolate bars would taste good and Alice, collecting a dime from each of her companions, hurried away toward the restaurant. When she returned, the candy bars were welcomed eagerly and when the girls stepped back into the plane they felt refreshed.
The floodlight opened up the night with its blue-white brilliance and the tri-motor rolled across the field and soared westward again. Miss Comstock came down the aisle with an armful of the latest magazines.
“This will be one of your duties,” she said as she offered them to Jane and Sue. The girls made their selection but Jane found her eyes too heavy for reading. She changed places with Sue and dozed again while her companion read.
At the end of another hour, the plane started bucking sharply and sleep became impossible for any of the girls.
Miss Comstock came along the aisle and spoke to each girl.
“There’s a bad cross-wind. See that your safety belts are buckled securely.”
The plane continued to bounce up and down, sometimes dropping for what seemed to Jane hundreds of feet only to bound upward again with a jarring shock.
Sue was white and perspiration stood out on her forehead.
“I hope we won’t have many trips like this,” she gasped. “Oh, I wish I hadn’t eaten that candy!”
Jane looked around to see how Grace and Alice were faring. Grace looked like a ghost, but Alice seemed unaffected. One of the girls at the rear of the plane became violently nauseated but Miss Comstock, cool and undisturbed by the rough weather, cared for her.
One thing Jane realized; they were all getting a thorough test of their weather ability on their first long flight.
The weather was rough all the rest of the way to Omaha, but after the first half hour, Sue recovered her equilibrium and managed to smile at the white face and tight lips of some of the other girls. Poor Grace was in agony most of the way.
“Lunch is ready at the field restaurant,” Miss Comstock announced when they rolled into the hangar at Omaha.
Various replies greeted her announcement. Some of the girls were ready to eat, while several could only groan at the thought of food.
Charlie Fischer climbed down and spoke to Jane and Sue.
“A little rough the last hundred and fifty miles,” he grinned.
“It was more than a little rough,” retorted Sue. “It was terribly rough.”
“Say, that was smooth compared to some of the weather we strike west of here. You’ve got lots of surprises ahead.”
“I’ve had enough for one night,” replied Sue, “but maybe I won’t notice it from now on.”
“Some people are all right after the first time and others never get over air sickness,” replied Charlie cheerfully.
“What a great help you are,” countered Sue.
“I’m leaving you here. This is the end of my run tonight. Maybe you’ll be assigned with me when you go into active service.”
“If flying with you means weather like this, I hope not,” smiled Jane.
Miss Comstock, anticipating that some of the girls might be air-sick, had ordered a light supper and only one of them, Pert Meade, who had been ill aboard the plane, was unable to enjoy the attractive meal.
It was eleven o’clock when they re-entered the cabin, ready for the flight over the windswept Nebraska country. A new pilot, an older man than Charlie Fischer, was at the controls.
The girls took their places, fastened the safety belts, and the big ship roared away again.
The weather was still rough as they followed the Platte River valley, riding high above country along which the pioneers had struggled in the early days of the West. They were following the U. P. trail, but were covering in an hour a distance it had taken the first settlers weeks to traverse.
Jane looked at the air-speed indicator. They were traveling only a little more than a hundred miles an hour and she knew that the wind outside must be blowing a gale. Below them one of the department of commerce emergency landing fields, outlined with red, green, and white border lights, drifted by. She looked at the route map. The field must have been Wood River, just west and a little south of Grand Island. They were still another hour out of North Platte.
It was well after midnight and most of the girls were dozing. Jane looked around and saw Miss Comstock in the last of the single seats on the left side of the cabin. The chief stewardess was looking out the window, staring with a sort of desperate intentness into the night, and Jane wondered if there was anything wrong. She listened to the beat of the motors. They were running smoothly, with whips of blue flame streaking from the exhausts, and Jane concluded that she had been imagining things when she decided Miss Comstock was upset.
Several minutes later the chief stewardess hastened up the aisle and disappeared along the passage which led to the pilots’ compartment. She returned almost immediately and snapped on the top light, flooding the cabin with a blaze of brilliance. Just then the motor on the left wing stopped and Jane knew that something was decidedly wrong for the chief stewardess’s face was pale and drawn.
Jane shook Sue into wakefulness, and, cupping her hands so that only Sue could hear, said, “Get the sleep out of your eyes. Something’s gone wrong. One motor has stopped.”
Sue, thoroughly aroused at Jane’s words, rubbed the sleep from her eyes and sat up straight. Miss Comstock hurried down the aisle, shaking the girls into consciousness. Then she returned to the front of the cabin. The two other motors had been throttled down and by speaking in a loud tone, she could be heard by every girl.
“We are about to make a forced landing,” she began and as she saw quick looks of alarm flash over the faces of the girls, hastened to add, “There is no need for undue alarm. I am sure no one will be injured for one of the most experienced pilots on the line is at the controls. Please see that your safety belts are fastened securely. Try to relax your muscles if that is possible.”
The plane heeled sharply as a vicious gust of wind caught it and Jane looked out, hoping that lights of one of the emergency landing fields would be visible. Only a solid mass of black greeted her eyes and she knew that their situation was indeed dangerous. Had Miss Comstock only been talking bravely, attempting to reassure the girls?
Jane looked at her companions. Apprehension was written on the face of each one, but none of them was flinching, a tribute to the fine courage which their nurses’ training instilled. They were accustomed to emergencies, even though this one was more than they had bargained for on their first long flight.
Jane tried to analyze her own feelings, but found that there was a peculiar lack of emotion. There was nothing she could do to ease the situation. She looked at her companion.
Sue smiled back bravely and reached over and took Jane’s hand. It made them feel a little closer.
“How far above ground are we?” asked Sue.
The needle on the altimeter dial was jumping crazily and Jane shook her head. The air speed was down to eighty miles an hour and they seemed to be drifting into the wind.
Miss Comstock started to turn off the top light, but one of the girls asked her to leave it on. It was much easier sitting there with the light on than waiting for the crash in the dark.
Miss Comstock walked down the aisle and Jane marveled at her ability to remain so calm in the emergency. She admired the chief stewardess immensely for her control of her nerves, for Miss Comstock didn’t appear to be more than three or four years older. She was a little shorter than Jane with a tinge of auburn in her hair and she was dressed in the natty smoke-green suit which was to mark the stewardesses of the Federated Airways.
Dozens of thoughts raced through Jane’s mind. She wondered what Miss Hardy would say when she heard about the accident and what her own folks would do.
Then Miss Comstock was beside her, speaking loud enough to be heard by all of the girls.
“We are almost down,” she told them. “Please remain calm.”
Jane wondered what Miss Comstock would do when they struck. There was no safety belt to keep her from being tossed about, for the chief stewardess remained in the aisle.
The landing lights on the wings were trying to bore into the night, but the air was filled with dust and Jane knew that the pilots were feeling their way down blind, hoping for a good landing.
Every girl sensed that the crash was near and Sue leaned her head over on Jane’s shoulder and closed her eyes. She had always looked to Jane for the final decision and now she turned to her for comfort and protection.
The plane lurched heavily and something ripped against the undercarriage. The lights in the cabin went out and Jane felt Miss Comstock pitched into her lap. In a flash she wrapped her arms around the chief stewardess and held her as tightly as possible.
There was the sensation of falling blindly into a great abyss and then came a jarring crash that seemed to split the cabin apart. After that there was a silence, broken only by the sobbing of the wind.
Jane felt the chief stewardess struggling to free herself from her arms.
“Let me go,” gasped Miss Comstock. “We’ve got to get out of here.”
Jane released her hold and spoke to Sue.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“Except for still being scared half to death.”
Other girls were moving about, unfastening their safety belts and trying to get to their feet.
“The cabin’s on a sharp angle,” Miss Comstock told them. “Take off your belts, get down in the aisle on your hands and knees, and follow me to the rear.”
Jane and Sue obeyed, with Sue directly behind Miss Comstock. Then came Jane with Grace Huston and Alice Blair following and the other girls behind them. No one appeared to be hurt except for minor bruises and bumps.
When they reached the door, which had been torn from its hinges by the impact, Miss Comstock cautioned them again.
“It’s about six feet to the ground. Slide over the edge and hang by your hands until your feet are on the ground. Then each girl wait until the next is down and we’ll form a chain of hands so that no one is lost. Count as you come and we’ll know when everyone is out.”
Jane was the first one out and she cried, “No. 1 out,” in a loud voice. Girl after girl called out their number as they scrambled down out of the wreckage until every one was outside.
Still holding hands, Miss Comstock led them away from the plane as Jane wondered about the pilots. The wreckage was at least fifty yards behind when Miss Comstock paused.
“You girls wait here. I’m going back and find the pilots.”
She started back alone, but Jane slipped out of the group and joined her.
“You can’t go alone,” she said. “If they’re trapped, maybe I can be of some help.”
“Go back, Jane,” ordered the chief stewardess. “There’s the gasoline. Smell it? The wreckage may catch on fire at any moment.”
“That’s just why you need me,” insisted Jane.
Miss Comstock hurried on. Jane was determined and there was no time to waste in argument.
The tri-motor had landed on a hillside, first striking a fringe of trees which had wrecked the undercarriage and then skidding along the hillside until the nose had dug into the ground, flipping the tail into the air at a crazy angle.
The pilots’ cockpit appeared badly smashed, but as Miss Comstock and Jane approached, a man crawled out of the wreckage. It was the co-pilot, badly battered and only half conscious.
“Slim’s in there,” he gasped, pointing back at the smashed cockpit.
Miss Comstock lunged ahead, tearing at the wreckage, hunting for Slim Bollei, the chief pilot. The smell of gasoline was doubly strong and Jane realized their grave danger, but she never wavered in following the chief stewardess.
They found the chief pilot jammed behind the control wheel.
“You take his shoulders while I try to free his feet,” ordered Miss Comstock. Working swiftly, they managed to lift the pilot clear and Jane was thankful that he was slight in stature. It would have been impossible for them to carry a heavy man.
They staggered away from the wreckage just as a tongue of flame leaped along the remains of the right wing.
“Hurry,” gasped Miss Comstock. “We’ve got to get farther away.”
The co-pilot tried to assist them, but he was too weak to help.
“Take care of yourself,” Miss Comstock told him. “We’ll get Slim away.”
The flames spread rapidly and by the time they reached the crest of the hill, the wreckage was an inferno of fire with roaring, twisting flames leaping into the heavens. Jane shuddered and closed her eyes and the other girls huddled close together.
“This is no time for anyone to have hysterics,” said the steel-nerved Miss Comstock. She turned to the co-pilot. “Did you get a message out that we were crashing?” she asked.
“Yes, but I don’t know whether it got through. The static has been terrific for the last hour.”
“Where are we?”
“Somewhere between Wood River and Kearney and a little south of the line. The Platte can’t be far south of us.”
“I don’t care where the Platte is. I want to get to a phone and find a doctor for Slim and report to the line,” snapped Miss Comstock. She turned to Sue and Alice.
“You girls take charge here. Do what you can for these men while Jane and I start out to see if we can find a farmhouse with a telephone.”
Leaving the other girls on the hilltop, Miss Comstock and Jane plunged away into the night. The chief stewardess strode rapidly, and Jane found it difficult to keep up with her,
“Perhaps a farmer will be attracted by the flames,” she gasped as they topped another hill.
“It’s not likely. If the co-pilot was right, we’re in a rather desolate spot just north of the river. We’ll keep going and see what we can locate.”
For half an hour they plodded steadily ahead until they struck a dirt road running at right angles to their own course.
“We’ll turn to the left. At least we’ll be going toward Kearney,” said Miss Comstock.
They trudged a mile down the road before they came to a farmhouse. A dog greeted them with lusty barks and the farmer threw up a window on the second floor.
“What’s going on out there?” he cried.
“We’re stewardesses on the Federated Airways,” Miss Comstock shouted. “Our plane crashed about an hour ago in the hills over toward the Platte. We’ve got to get to a phone so we can call a doctor and inform the line about the accident.”
“Come right in. I’ll be down in a minute.”
A light flashed in the room upstairs and the farmer, dressing hastily, hurried down.
Miss Comstock almost rang the telephone off the wall in trying to arouse the operator on the rural line, but at last got her call through to the field at Kearney and told the night man there what had happened.
The farmer supplied them with directions for the field relief crew and the Kearney men promised to arrive with a doctor within the hour. The farmer’s wife hastened down and insisted on making coffee and sandwiches.
“Was anyone badly injured?” she asked.
“The chief pilot is hurt, but I don’t know how seriously,” replied Miss Comstock.
“But isn’t it dangerous for girls like you to be flying in those airplanes?” asked the farmer’s wife.
“It was tonight,” smiled Miss Comstock, “but as a rule it is as safe as riding in a railroad train and much safer than traveling in an automobile. What do you think about it, Jane?”
“I think it’s thrilling, but the crash tonight will be enough to last me for the rest of my life,” she replied.
“It will probably be the first and last one you’ll ever have. Flying is getting safer every day. You certainly had your baptism under fire the first night out.”
The crew from the Kearney field arrived in a large truck and trailing them was an ambulance with a doctor and two nurses. The farmer joined the party and helped guide them to the shivering group on the hilltop north of the Platte.
The wreckage of the tri-motor had long since ceased to glow and the wind whined dismally through a low growth of underbrush. Sue was the first to reach the truck and Miss Comstock fairly leaped after her.
“How’s the pilot and co-pilot?” she asked, anxiety making her voice sound unnatural.
“They’ll come through all right,” said Sue. “I think the pilot has a slight concussion and his right arm is broken. The co-pilot is only suffering from shock and bruises.”
“And the girls?”
“They’re all right. When the fire died down a bit, several of them even tried to get close enough to salvage some of the mail, but the flames leaped up again and forced them back.”
The flyers were carried to the waiting ambulance and that vehicle soon lurched away over the uneven ground.
The crew from the Kearney field had brought powerful electric torches and with these they made a thorough survey of the tri-motor. It was a charred mass of twisted steel tubing, little resembling the proud ship which had bucked the storm a few hours before.
“The company can write about $80,000 off the books,” growled the manager of the Kearney field. “I wonder how it happened?”
“The left wing started to flutter,” said Miss Comstock. “I could tell from the vibration of the ship something was wrong and when I went up into the cockpit Slim Bollei told me we were in a jam. He was afraid the wing was going to tear loose so he cut the left motor. With the wind bad and the wing loosening up more every second we were in the air he had to hunt a place to set down quick.”
“Well, he sure put this crate down for keeps,” grunted the manager. “Guess we might as well start back to the field and I’ll write up a report of the accident.”
The girls piled into the big truck, Jane and Sue sitting at the very end with their feet hanging over.
“What a night,” said Sue as the truck moved away from the scene of the accident. “For a while I was afraid I wasn’t going to live through it.”
“I’m still shaky,” confessed Grace Huston, who was just behind them.
“It wasn’t pleasant,” admitted Jane, “but we’re all lucky to be out alive and with the pilots only slightly injured. However, as Miss Comstock says, this will probably be our first and last crash and it might as well come early.”
When they reached the Kearney field, Miss Comstock got in touch with the operations manager at Cheyenne and informed him that another plane would be needed to take her charges to Cheyenne.
It was daylight when Cheyenne finally came back with flying orders. A special plane was being ordered out of Omaha to take the girls the remainder of the distance.
“We’ll have several hours here,” Miss Comstock informed them, “so I’ve chartered several cabs to take us uptown for breakfast. We’ll go to the hotel, clean up and relax. Lunch will be in Cheyenne.”
They were about to leave the field when a young man hurried up.
“I’m the Associated Press correspondent here,” he explained, “and I’m looking for the stewardess in charge.”
Miss Comstock stepped forward. “What can I do for you?” she asked.
The reporter grinned. “Just tell me all about the accident. I’ve got the pilots’ names from the hospital and a few details, but I’d like to have all of the facts.”
Jane was surprised when Miss Comstock told him everything about the accident.
“Please say that the new girls were especially calm and cool-headed in their first emergency,” she said. “If it had not been for the assistance of one of them I fear the pilot would never have been pulled out of the wreckage before the plane caught fire.”
The reporter insisted on having Jane’s name.
“This will make a great human-interest story,” he exclaimed as he hurried away.
Miss Comstock turned to the girls.
“That’s a little lesson in public relations,” she said. “The policy of the line is to tell the newspaper people the truth. If you try to hide or distort facts, the reporters will learn part of them in some other way and it is much better to have the truth sent out in the first place.”
After breakfast at the hotel, Jane and Sue went into the writing room.
“I’m going to write my parents about everything that happened last night,” said Sue. “Then they won’t worry when they read the newspaper stories.”
Jane agreed that it was a splendid idea and they passed half an hour at their letter writing before Miss Comstock came in to inform them that it was time to return to the field.
As they reached the airport a tri-motor swung in from the east. It swooped low over the field and an arm was flung out of the cockpit in a friendly greeting to the girls who were standing beside the hangar. The tri-motor nosed around into the wind and dropped down to an easy landing.
When it stopped in the hangar, the pilot stuck his head out of the cockpit.
“Hi, there,” he called to Jane and Sue. “I hear you won your wings last night.” It was Charlie Fischer, who had flown them from Chicago to Omaha the night before.
“You mean we had them clipped and singed,” retorted Jane.
Charlie climbed down from the cockpit.
“How’s Slim Bollei?” he asked.
“Just a slight crack on his head,” said Sue. “I hear that they select men with hard heads for pilots.”
“Ouch!” grinned Charlie. “I’m going to wear armor the next time I talk to you.”
“You needn’t. I don’t even bite.”
The pilot turned to Miss Comstock.
“Get your cargo aboard,” he said, “and we’ll take off in about five minutes. They routed me out at Omaha and started me west before I had time to get anything to eat. We’ll start as soon as I can rustle a cup of coffee and a sandwich at the shanty across the road.”
By this time the girls had become fairly well acquainted and already little groups were being formed. Jane was pleased that Alice and Grace had personalities that fitted in so smoothly with her own and Sue’s. There would be much to learn and much to do in the coming weeks and it would be much pleasanter getting accustomed to the new environment if friends were near-by.
The air was cool and sweet. The wind had subsided and there was no trace of the terror it had wrought the night before as the girls took their places and fastened the safety belts around their bodies.
Charlie Fischer, still munching a sandwich, hurried into the hangar, signed the gas and oil record book, climbed into his cockpit and gunned the motors. The big biplane rolled smoothly ahead, turned its nose into the wind, and started climbing skyward. They were off on the last lap of their trip to Cheyenne.