CHAPTER NINE
The afternoon editions of the _News_ that day featured the stories Timand Ralph had written of their adventures in rescuing the air mailpilots. Pictures of Ralph's plane landing and of Ralph and Tim helpingGeorge Mitchell were spread all over the second page.
But long before the presses started their daily run Tim was in the airagain, refreshed by at least part of a night's sleep. Ralph, exhaustedby his adventures and lack of sleep, went to bed as soon as he finishedwriting his story.
After returning to the airport, Tim prepared to take his cowboy friendsback to the Circle Four Ranch.
Hank Cummins, the owner of the Circle Four, was waiting for Tim at thefield.
"Just had a telephone call from the ranch," he said, "and by the time weget there they'll have the mail down where we can pick it up."
"That will be fine," exclaimed Tim. "I'll have it back here by lateafternoon."
Tim warmed up the _Good News_ and motioned for the ranchman and Curly toclimb into the forward cockpit.
"Better strap yourselves in," he warned them. "This ship steps out andwe're going places. If we happen to hit some rough air you'll thinkyou're riding a bronco."
Curly grinned as though he thought Tim was joking but the flyingreporter insisted that the cowboy strap himself in the plane.
The _Good News_ was pulsating with power and Tim decided to give his newfriends a thrill or two.
He opened the throttle and the plane dusted down the field like a scaredjackrabbit. Tim pulled back hard on the stick and the powerful motortook them almost straight into the sky. Up and up they spiraled, clawingfor altitude and getting it by leaps and bounds.
Five hundred, seven-fifty, one thousand, fifteen hundred and then twothousand. They were flashing away from the earth at a dizzying pace.When the plane was about the two thousand foot level, Tim levelled offand headed in the direction of the Circle Four.
The air speed indicator started to climb. There was a favoring wind toboost them along and the needle advanced steadily. They breezed along ata hundred and eighty miles an hour and when Tim pushed the speed up toone hundred and ninety miles an hour Curly turned around. His face waswhite and scared looking. He motioned for Tim to slow down and theflying reporter shut off the motor.
"I don't want to get home in a minute," yelled the cowboy. "Take yourtime, take your time. All I've got to do when we get home is chasecows."
Tim grinned and shook his head.
"You haven't seen anything yet," he cried. "If you think a horse canbuck, watch this."
The flying reporter switched on the motor again and fed fuel into thewhite-hot cylinders. Their speed increased until they were flashingthrough the sky at two hundred and five miles an hour. Curly and HankCummins were clinging to the combing of the front cockpit, theirknuckles white from the desperation of their grip.
Tim eased up on the throttle and slowed down to the sedate pace of onehundred and fifty miles an hour. Curly and Hank settled down in theirseats, only to lose their hats when Tim swung the _Good News_ into aloop. From that he dropped into a falling leaf and ended up by flyingupside down.
"Can a bronco do stunts like that?" asked Tim when the _Good News_ wasagain on an even line of flight.
"One or two," Curly managed to say, "but they can't buck upside down forthat long a time. Take me home. I'll be glad to get out of this skyhorse."
The _Good News_ fairly snapped the miles out of its exhaust and it wasonly a short time after they had left the field at Atkinson when Timbrought the plane to rest in the meadow below the ranch buildings.
Boots and Jim were waiting for him with the sacks of mail they had takenfrom the wreckage of Lewis' plane in the Great Smokies.
Tim checked the sacks.
"Every one of them here and nothing damaged," he said. "By night they'llbe on their way east again by air mail."
Hank Cummins urged him to go to the ranch house for a warm lunch, butTim refused the invitation.
"Then pay us a visit this summer when you have your vacation," insistedthe owner of the Circle Four. "Come out here with the boys. They'llteach you how to ride and rope and maybe do a little fancy shooting.There's good fishing in the streams back in the hills and maybe, if therustling that started last summer keeps on, you might run into a littleexcitement."
"In that case," smiled Tim, "I wouldn't be surprised if you had a coupleof reporters spending their vacations with you this summer."
"Nothing would please me more," said the genial ranchman, "and be sureand drop in whenever you fly this way."
"Thanks for all you've done," said Tim, "and if we can ever do you afavor, don't hesitate to call on us."
With the air mail pouches in the forward cockpit Tim headed the _GoodNews_ for home. The headwind slowed him somewhat but even with thathandicap he was back in Atkinson by mid-afternoon.
A special section of the air mail eastbound had just come in and thesalvage mail was placed aboard it to continue the journey to easterncities.
When the air mail had taken off, Hunter turned to Tim.
"I'm writing a complete report and forwarding it to headquarters," saidthe field manager. "It was certainly great of you and Ralph to help outas you did. Lewis might have died and Mitchell certainly would have hada rough time of it before we could have reached them if you fellowshadn't volunteered."
"We're always ready in an emergency," said Tim. "Besides, we got somedandy stories for the paper."
"The company will reward you in some way," said Hunter, "And they won'tbe stingy about it when they read my report."
"Don't lay it on too thick," urged Tim.
"Not very much," grinned Hunter as he went into his office.
Tim was about to leave the field when Hunter called that he was wantedon the phone. When Tim answered he recognized the voice of Captain NedRaymond of the state police.
"I'd like to see you at the Hotel Jefferson right away. Same room asbefore," said the Captain.
"I'm just starting for town," replied Tim. "I'll be there in fifteen ortwenty minutes."
Captain Raymond was pacing up and down the narrow confines of room 309when Tim entered.
"Glad to see you again, Murphy," said the state police official. "Sitdown," and he waved toward the bed.
Captain Raymond continued his pacing, chewing nervously at the end of aheavy pencil.
"Trouble brewing," he said in the sharp, short way of his. "Got a tipfrom Chicago today. We'll have to keep a sharp lookout."
"Just what for?" asked Tim.
"That's it, that's it," exploded the fiery policeman. "If I knew whereto look, but I don't."
"Then we'll have to sit back and wait for something to happen." saidTim.
"But keep our eyes open," added Captain Raymond. "My tip is that some ofthe members of the Sky Hawk's gang have worked out a new scheme of somekind and are planning a lot of robberies. Going to make a wholesalebusiness out of it. Our part of the country has been picked firstbecause it will be easy for them to make a getaway. The mountains westof here, the river east. Good hiding for anyone who is evading the law."
Tim waited while Captain Raymond continued his pacing of the room.
"You have that plane of yours ready to go at a minute's notice," saidthe trooper.
"It's always ready," replied Tim, "For we never know just when a bigstory will break and we'll need the plane."
"Good, good. And have no fear but what you'll get all the excitement youwant in a short time."
"I've had about all I want for a while," smiled Tim and he told of whathe and Ralph had gone through in the rescue of the air mail flyers.
"That's the stuff," explained Captain Raymond. "You boys are just thetypes we need. I know I can count on you to come through in anemergency. Guess that's all for this time. I just wanted to warn you toexpect trouble soon. If you want to get in touch with me at any timetelephone the troop barracks at Harris. If I'm not there, they'll knowwhere to locate me within a few minut
es."
When Tim left the hotel it was with the knowledge that he would soon bein conflict with members of the Sky Hawk's old band. He knew they wouldbe formidable foes but there was no fear in his heart.
The flying reporter returned to the _News_ office and started writinghis aviation column for the following day. He was tired and made slowprogress, but he had a little more than a column of material ready whenhe closed his desk at six o'clock.
Dan Watkins, the head of the copy desk and one of Tim's closest friends,was waiting for him.
"Where are you going to eat tonight?" asked the copy chief.
"Anyplace where it is quiet," replied Tim. "My head feels a littlelight."
"Then some clam chowder could just about hit the spot with you,"suggested Watkins and they left the _News_ building and walked to asmall, cozy restaurant on a nearby sidestreet. The quiet and the softlights eased Tim's taut nerves and he felt his whole body relaxing.
"You've had some mighty busy days," commented Watkins when they werecomfortably seated.
"Busy but lots of fun," replied Tim.
"How about the chances you've been taking?"
"They weren't chances," said the flying reporter. "I always had a sturdyplane and I tried to use good judgment. Once or twice, I'll admit that Itook chances but in those cases the object far surpassed the risk."
"I heard the business manager and the managing editor talking about youtoday," said Watkins.
"Isn't my work up to standard?" asked Tim.
"It wasn't about your work it was about you."
"What do you mean?"
"Both of them are worried about your health. They are afraid you'reworking too hard and when the managing editor and the business managerstart to worry about your health you can bet your bottom dollar you'revaluable to the paper. With me, I could have a nervous breakdown andthey'd never bat an eye. Probably be glad to get rid of me."
"Don't talk like that, Dan," pleaded Tim. "You know that's not so. Whyyou're the balance wheel of the editorial office. Carson wouldn't knowwhat to do if anything happened to you. He depends on you to keep thingsrunning smoothly, see that the boys all cover their assignments and thatthe copy goes steadily to the machines."
"We won't argue over that," smiled the copy chief, "But you should haveheard those two going at it this afternoon. The business manager fairlyripped into Carson."
"What for?"
"For letting you be sworn into the state police."
"You know that!"
"Of course."
"But how?"
"It's my business to know things like that. Anyway, the business managersaid the state police could take care of themselves and that you weretoo valuable for the paper to lose. He said that hundreds of people tookthe _News_ just to read about the adventures you and Ralph go through."
"What did Carson say?" asked Tim.
"Oh he explained what the state troopers were up against and they had ithot and heavy for a while. All of which gets back to what I wanted tosay to you. Be careful, Tim, on this state police job. The troopers arepaid to take chances with criminals; you're not. Help them where you canbut don't risk your own life unnecessarily."
"I don't intend to take unnecessary risks," said Tim, "but you know howI feel about crime. Anything I can do to stop it or, after it iscommitted, to bring the criminals to justice, I'll do."
"I realize that, Tim, and I admire you for it," said Watkins. "All I askis that you be careful. The _News_ has done a great deal for you and itwill do a great deal more if you give it a chance."
Routine work filled the next ten days and there was no further news fromCaptain Raymond of the state police. The warm winds of spring swept infrom the south and the last traces of the late winter blizzarddisappeared. The grass sprang up and the trees started to leaf.
During the lunch hour the reporters gathered on the south side of the_News_ building to exchange yarns and gossip. Gray skies of winter hadbeen replaced by the cheerful ones of spring and life on the paper movedsmoothly. The menace of the Sky Hawk's gang had almost been forgottenwhen Tim was given an assignment that was to lead to many a strange andthrilling adventure.