“Now that’s fine,” said Felznick. “I never thought she had the guts. Maybe it’s because I didn’t like her old man. But she’ll get the outfit anyway, so I might as well act like I feel—pretty happy that she proved her point. By the way, boys, do you want to see your pictures? They’re being fixed for today’s release, rush stuff—special billing and all that.”
“Pictures?” gaped Johnny and Irish as one.
“Sure!” said the Jinx, to cover up their surprise. “Sure they want to see their art. What a silly question!”
Johnny dazedly stumbled into the projection room and the Jinx almost had to hold him up. “How in the name—?” said Johnny.
“I changed those containers, dummy,” whispered JackJinx. “I slammed our reel in place of one of theirs and theirs in place of ours, so the box he’d marked would be heavy. I stuck it in my jacket front and later lashed it around my waist. Surprised?”
“You bet,” sighed Johnny as he sank into a chair. “You saved my neck.”
“And you saved mine.”
“But those threatening notes!” he whispered, puzzled.
The Jinx leaned very close, her cheek against Johnny’s.
“I wrote ’em,” she whispered back. “To make you think—”
The lights went out and the reel flickered to the screen. It ran through its entire length, and then Felznick, forgetting Johnny had taken them, crowed, “How’s that for a scoop! There’s drama, there, boy! Drama! That’s news, the kind of service we always deliver. World News is always first. We crash it before the papers. A real scoop! It’s got everything. . . .” By that time the lights popped on and Johnny suddenly found his collar too tight.
“You weren’t listening!” said Felznick.
“Oh, yes, he was!” grinned Irish. But he didn’t add to what.
Story Preview
NOW that you’ve just ventured through one of the captivating tales in the Stories from the Golden Age collection by L. Ron Hubbard, turn the page and enjoy a preview of The Battling Pilot. Join pilot Peter England, whose humdrum airplane routine is unexpectedly disrupted when his company reassigns him to transport some special passengers. But when his aircraft gets attacked by a mysterious fighter plane, Peter realizes he’s transporting dangerous cargo—a princess seeking to turn the tide of a war!
The Battling Pilot
PETER ENGLAND sat brooding over four throttles and a wheel. His eyes went restlessly from left to right and right to left, taking in a couple square yards of meter-studded panel, watching oil temperature on Engine Three, revs on Engine One.
A thin little fellow slid quietly into the copilot seat beside him. England glanced in that direction with some annoyance. “Huh. You’re Tom Duffy. What—”
“On deck, Captain. I’ve been promoted to Number Ten,” said Duffy, trying hard to hide his elation.
“Where’s Nelson?”
“Sick list.”
“You ever fly a kite?”
Duffy blinked. “Why, I’ve been copilot here for three years, Mister England.”
“No time to break in punks. I’ve been on here for sixteen.”
Duffy looked sideways with some misgiving. Pete England was top pilot on the line, a long, hard-jawed devil, moody as Atlantic weather.
“You bet,” said Duffy. “Some day I hope to be tops.”
“Don’t,” said England bitterly. “Nothing in it but grief.”
“Grief? Why . . . I thought it was fun, scooting from New York—”
“New York to Washington,” said England. “Washington to New York. New York to Washington. Washington to New York. Lots of fun. You must be in a spin.”
“Oh, no,” said Duffy, his round face glowing. “I think it’s swell. Keeping up the tradition—”
“Tradition,” snorted England.
“Sure, tradition. You’re the idol of—”
“Of what?” snapped England. “The passengers? Hell, you’ll be telling me this job is romantic in a minute. La-de-da. You’re a punk.”
Duffy blinked and squirmed in the bucket seat.
“You’re dumb,” added England, as an afterthought. “A guy would have to be dumb to like this.”
“B-But you’re tops!”
“You’ve got to get on top to look back, don’t you? Fun! What kind of fun is what I’d like to know. New York to Washington. Washington to New York. Flying a kite. Lugging sixteen passengers north for a lunch date, sixteen passengers south for a session with Congress. What kind of fun is that? I know every silo from here to New York. I know every spot on every cow. I can take a bearing on the number of milk cans sitting outside a gate. What’s the fun about that?”
“B-But gee!” said Duffy. “You don’t seem to realize what an honor it is—”
“To what? Cart sixteen passengers around, and half of them airsick? ‘Mister Pilot, please don’t hit the bumps so hard.’ Damn the passengers. Maybe ten years ago this was romantic. But that was ten years ago. There was some element of danger then. Not now. This is as common as pushing a locomotive from Podunk to Punkin Center. If it wasn’t for the pay, I’d have quit long ago. Say, what in hell is keeping those damned passengers?”
Duffy looked down the tunnel made by the awning and saw a group of people standing around the dispatcher. An argument was evidently in progress.
“That fat dame,” said England, “is Mrs. Blant. She’s going to see her daughter’s wedding. She better put a waddle on or she’ll miss the bells.”
“Gee, do you know all of them?”
“There’s a fellow there in brown I don’t know,” said England. “But the rest of them . . . That guy in the blue overcoat is sealing a construction job this afternoon and he’s just about got time to make it. That young gentleman is Secretary Lansing’s boy, on his way back—”
“Here comes a girl and an old dame,” said Duffy. “Know them?”
Pete England leaned forward and looked across Duffy’s uniformed chest. He scowled and shook his head.
“Nope,” said England, “and what’s more, we haven’t got room for them. Boy, that old gal sure would break a mirror.”
“The girl ain’t so bad. Look there, Mister England! If that isn’t sable she’s wearing, I’ll eat it hair by hair.”
“Probably rabbit,” said Pete. “What the hell is Dan up to?”
The dispatcher was following the pair out to the ship. Above the mutter of the props, the pilots could hear the angry protest of the regular passengers.
“Now what in the name of the devil is this all about?” scowled England.
The dispatcher thrust his face through the door and balanced upon a wheel. “All right, Pete. On your way.”
“All right hell,” said Pete. “You sending me north empty?”
“You’ve got two,” said the dispatcher.
“But what about Mrs. Blant?” said Pete. “Her gal’s getting married this—”
“Never mind,” said the dispatcher. “Number Six will hit here in about thirty minutes. We’ll send Johnson right back with this bunch.”
“You mean,” said Pete, ominously, “that you’ll gow up the whole day’s schedule and maybe leave me overnight in New York just to send this dame and her grandma north? You’re dizzy as a cuckoo clock, Dan.”
“Never mind how dizzy I am. On your horse, Pete.”
“She must be awful damned important,” said Pete.
“She paid double for every seat in the ship. She’s plenty important. Take it easy, Pete.”
Savagely, England gunned the four throttles. The big kite rushed away from the awning, braked in a half circle, charged toward the end of the runway, whipped into the wind and stopped.
Out of habit, Pete swept his glance over the panel.
“Wait a minute,” said Duffy.
“What the hell—”
A hand fell on Pete’s shoulder. He turned and looked back into the cabin. Right behind him and looming over him stood the old lady. Her face was proud and haughty. She had the
appearance of a battle-scarred general commanding troops in a charge. Her beady eyes drilled twin holes in England.
“I beg your pardon, sir,” said the old lady, “but I must be quite certain that you are competent to fly this machine.”
Pete gulped. He turned red. A blast of hurricane intensity almost left his lips. He swallowed it, choked on it and then managed, “Quite competent, I am sure, madam.”
“I must see your pilot’s license, sir.”
Pete swallowed again. He dug angrily into his pocket and yanked out a compact folder stamped “Master Airline Pilot, D of C.”
The old lady took it and carried it back to the girl.
Pete’s view of the young lady was obscured by her companion’s back, but he did see that the coat was really sable even at that distance. She was, he grudgingly muttered, a looker, damn her.
The old lady came back and handed Pete his license. “Her Highness is quite satisfied, sir. You may proceed.”
Pete blinked at the title, but for a second only.
The old lady added in a wintery tone, “You will, of course, fly low and slow, sir. And please avoid the bumps.”
“Yes, ma’am,” gritted Pete.
The four throttles leaped ahead under his savage hand. The kite lashed down the runway, bit air, came off as lightly as a puff of smoke, streaked around to the north, climbing, and leveled out for New York.
“She said ‘Her Highness,’” said the awed Duffy. “Gee, Mister England, you don’t suppose she’s royalty or something, do you?”
“I’d like to crown her with a crankshaft,” vowed Pete.
To find out more about The Battling Pilot and how you can obtain your copy, go to www.goldenagestories.com.
Glossary
STORIES FROM THE GOLDEN AGE reflect the words and expressions used in the 1930s and 1940s, adding unique flavor and authenticity to the tales. While a character’s speech may often reflect regional origins, it also can convey attitudes common in the day. So that readers can better grasp such cultural and historical terms, uncommon words or expressions of the era, the following glossary has been provided.
Albany night boat: one of a large number of river steamers formerly common to the Hudson River and patronized by New York City residents, vacationers and newlyweds.→ to text
amphibian: an airplane designed for taking off from and landing on both land and water.→ to text
Amur: Amur River, the world’s ninth longest river that forms the border between northeastern China (Manchuria) and the Russian Far East (between Siberia and the Pacific Ocean). It was an area of conflict during the war between China and Japan that began in 1937, and eventually led to World War II in the Pacific.→ to text
astern: in a position behind a specified vessel.→ to text
ballyhoo: to advertise or publicize noisily or blatantly.→ to text
Black Hills: a small isolated mountain range in western South Dakota and extending into Wyoming. The Black Hills are home to the tallest peaks in continental North America east of the Rocky Mountains.→ to text
bull: a gross blunder.→ to text
bumboat: a boat used in peddling provisions and small wares among vessels lying in port or offshore.→ to text
bung starter: a wooden mallet used for tapping on the bung (cork or stopper) to loosen it from a barrel.→ to text
cabin job: an airplane that has an enclosed section where passengers can sit or cargo is stored.→ to text
castellated clouds: cloud formation named for its tower-like projections that billow upwards from the base of the cloud. → to text
China Clipper: one of three Martin M-130 flying boats designed and built by the Glenn L. Martin Company for Pan American Airways in the 1930s. The planes, called Clippers and named for the swift square-rigged sailing ships of the 1800s, were designed to take off and land on water and possessed long-range flying capabilities. The China Clipper started flying passengers in 1936 from San Francisco to Manila making the 8,050-mile (13,683-km) trip in 60 hours of actual flying time spanning five days with stopovers in Hawaii, Midway Island, Wake Island, Guam and Manila. → to text
Coeur d’Alene: city located in northern Idaho, on the northern shore of the Coeur d’Alene Lake and the western edge of the Coeur d’Alene National Forest. The city is named for the Coeur d’Alene tribe of Native Americans, a name given them by the French traders meaning “heart of awl,” or “sharp-hearted” out of respect for their tough trading practices.→ to text
crown fire: a fire that crowns (spreads to the top branches of trees) and can spread at an incredible pace through the top of a forest. Crown fires can be extremely dangerous to all inhabitants underneath, as they may spread faster than they can be outrun, particularly on windy days.→ to text
davits: any of various cranelike devices, used singly or in pairs, for supporting, raising and lowering boats, anchors and cargo over a hatchway or side of a ship.→ to text
DeVry: manufacturer of 35mm and 16mm movie cameras popular in the 1930s, especially with newsreel cameramen.→ to text
flying boat: a seaplane whose main body is a hull adapted for floating.→ to text
foredeck: the forward part of a boat’s main deck.→ to text
Frisco: San Francisco.→ to text
gig: a boat reserved for the use of the captain of a ship.→ to text
G-men: government men; agents of the Federal Bureau of Investigation.→ to text
gow up: to make sticky or mess something up. From gow, meaning opium or sap; the sticky brown resin harvested from poppies. Used figuratively.→ to text
gumbo: soil that turns very sticky and muddy when it becomes wet; found throughout the central US.→ to text
gunwale: the upper edge of the side of a boat. Originally a gunwale was a platform where guns were mounted, and was designed to accommodate the additional stresses imposed by the artillery being used.→ to text
Han River: a river, about 700 miles long (1,126 km), of east central China flowing generally southeast to the Yangtze River.→ to text
Jonah: one who is believed to bring bad luck or misfortune; also called a jinx. The name originated from the Old Testament prophet, Jonah, who by disobeying God's command caused a storm to endanger the ship he was traveling in. → to text
kite: an airplane.→ to text
lampblack: a black pigment made from soot.→ to text
Lord Chesterfield: English politician and writer best known for Letters to His Son (1774), which portrays the ideal eighteenth-century gentleman.→ to text
man-o’-war: any armed ship of a national navy, usually carrying between 20 and 120 guns.→ to text
Medusa: (Greek mythology) monster with live venomous snakes for hair; people who looked at her would turn to stone. A hero, Perseus, was able to kill Medusa, aiming his sword by looking at her reflection in a highly polished shield, and then cutting off her head.→ to text
Nakajima: the name for the aircraft produced by the Nakajima Aircraft Company, Japan’s first aircraft manufacturer, founded in 1917.→ to text
newshawk: a newspaper reporter, especially one who is energetic and aggressive.→ to text
painter: a rope, usually at the bow, for fastening a boat to a ship, stake, etc.→ to text
Perseus: (Greek mythology) hero who killed Medusa. The god Hermes and goddess Athena helped him in this brave deed by giving him winged shoes, a magical sword and a polished shield. With the help of these, he swooped down on Medusa from the air, used the shield as a mirror, and cut off her head without looking at her directly—as anyone who looked at her turned to stone.→ to text
Rising Sun: Japan; the characters that make up Japan’s name mean “the sun’s origin,” which is why Japan is sometimes identified as the “Land of the Rising Sun.” It is also the military flag of Japan and was used as the ensign of the Imperial Japanese Navy and the war flag of the Imperial Japanese Army until the end of World War II.→ to text
Scheherazade: the female narrat
or of The Arabian Nights, who during one thousand and one adventurous nights saved her life by entertaining her husband, the king, with stories.→ to text
sculling oar: a single oar that is moved from side to side at the stern of a boat to propel it forward.→ to text
siege guns: heavy guns for siege operations, used to overcome the target with bombardment. (A siege is a military operation in which an army surrounds a fortified place and isolates it while continuing to attack.)→ to text
slipped: caused (a descending parachute) to glide in a particular direction by pulling down on suspension lines on the side toward the desired direction so as to spill air out of the opposite side of the canopy.→ to text
slipstream: the airstream pushed back by a revolving aircraft propeller.→ to text
smeared: smashed.→ to text
snap-brim: a felt hat with a dented crown, and the brim turned up in back and down in front.→ to text
SS: steamship.→ to text
stall: a situation in which an aircraft suddenly dives because the airflow is obstructed and lift is lost. The loss of airflow can be caused by insufficient airspeed or by an excessive angle of an airfoil (part of an aircraft’s surface that provides lift or control) when the aircraft is climbing.→ to text
struts: supports for a structure such as an aircraft wing, roof or bridge.→ to text
tarmac: airport runway.→ to text
tracer: a bullet or shell whose course is made visible by a trail of flames or smoke, used to assist in aiming.→ to text
volplaning: gliding toward the earth in an airplane, with no motor power or with the power shut off.→ to text
L. Ron Hubbard in the
Golden Age of
Pulp Fiction
In writing an adventure story
a writer has to know that he is adventuring
for a lot of people who cannot.
The writer has to take them here and there
about the globe and show them
excitement and love and realism.
As long as that writer is living the part of an