PERIL OVER THE AIRPORT

THE VICKI BARR AIR STEWARDESS SERIES

Silver Wings for Vicki
Vicki Finds the Answer
The Hidden Valley Mystery
The Secret of Magnolia Manor
The Clue of the Broken Blossom
Behind the White Veil
The Mystery at Hartwood House
Peril Over the Airport
The Mystery of the Vanishing Lady
The Search for the Missing Twin
The Ghost at the Waterfall
The Clue of the Gold Coin
The Silver Ring Mystery
The Clue of the Carved Ruby
The Mystery of Flight 908
The Brass Idol Mystery

THE VICKI BARR AIR STEWARDESS SERIES

________________________________________________________

PERIL OVER
THE AIRPORT
BY HELEN WELLS
________________________________________________________

GROSSET & DUNLAP

PUBLISHERS
New York

 BY GROSSET & DUNLAP, INC., 1953

All Rights Reserved

To
MATTIE F. MCFADDEN
President, Women Fliers of America
with thanks and fine help

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

CONTENTS
________________________________________________________

CHAPTER

PAGE

A NEW LOVE FOR VICKI

II

FIRST STEP

13

III

THAT BOY BILL

28

IV

UNFINISHED BUSINESS

44

VICKI GOES VISITING

55

VI

HARUM-SCARUM

71

VII

ORCHIDS AND TROUBLE

91

VIII

CODE LETTER

104

IX

THE TATTOO

115

WHO IS LAND AND SKY, INC.?

129

XI

O SOLO ME-O

147

XII

THE OTHER TATTOO MARK

162

XIII

ONE MANS LIE

185

XIV

THE MASKED FLYER

208

XV

VICKI SETS A TRAP

223

XVI

THE END OF J. R. SMITHSON

238

CHAPTER I

A New Love for Vicki

Something had been going on in the back of Vicki

Barrs mind for quite a long time now. At first Vicki
had shut her wide azure-blue eyes and pretended it
wasnt true. When that didnt work, she tried her
best to ignore it. But it bobbed up, uninvited. It
was dangerous, expensive, exciting. Certainly it
did not seem a suitable ambition for a small, ashblond girl.
Dean Fletcher recognized what was happening.
He and Vicki, under the amiable command of Senior
Pilot Tom Jordan, had worked together for several
months on one of Federals air liners; Dean as
copilot and Vicki as flight stewardess. Deans
serious gray eyes looked sympathetic as Vicki
groaned:
I never wanted anything so much in my life. But
I dont think I can ever do it.
You can so do it. Ill bet you can, Dean
insisted.
1

The other stewardess in the trim flight uniform,

facing Vicki and Dean across the table, was Jean
Cox, who had taken flying lessons at the ripe age of
eight. The tall young copilot, sitting beside Jean,
with the same farseeing fliers eyes as Deans, was
Jim Bolton. The four of them were lunching this fine
May day, in the Kitty Hawk Room, before going on
duty.
You might even become internationally
famous, Jean Cox remarked facetiously.
She might become internationally dead, Jim
Bolton said.
Vicki was used to being regarded as a decorative
piece of bric-a-brac, but not at all resigned to it.
Jims bored expression only egged her on.
Now please dont misunderstand. Vicki
earnestly leaned forward across the table. I
wouldnt trade the fun of being an air hostess for
being a princess or aaI want to go on meeting
new people. I enjoy being on the go and seeing new
towns every day. I couldnt stay put in one place!
Something going on every minute. Jean
adjusted the flight cap perched on her cropped hair.
Never bored.
But Jim Bolton said.
Dean drawled, Stop teasing. Have another glass
of milk. You know you cant be around planes all
the time withoutsooner or laterwanting to take
2

one up by yourself. Isnt that it, Vic?

She nodded gratefully. Ive fallen more and
more in love with flying. I suppose its a sort of
testtest of myself, too.
Hah. Youre too small to fly a plane, Jim
Bolton remarked. Besides, airlines pilot jobs arent
open to women.
Jean Cox half rose in her chair. They will be
some day! You wait and see, smarty!
Vicki gulped out, I only mean flying for fun
And Vickis not too small! She could sit with a
cushion or telephone books in back of her, to push
her forward to the pedalsmy kid sister and I did in
our familys Cub. It worked fine. Jean subsided.
Certainly she could do it, Dean said in his calm
way. Provided she has what it takes. No one says
its easy.
Jim Bolton grinned and admitted that he had
merely been teasing. He said thatin this age, when
young people take to the air as naturally as their
parents took to those newfangled machines called
automobilesit made sense for a girl to fly. Plenty
of them do. Several thousands of them do, classing
flying with water skiing or horseback riding. A girl
could fly charter passengers, or fly cargo, or be a
test pilot, or deliver new planes from factory to user,
or demonstrate for dealers, or ferry planes for the
Government, or fly for her own personal pleasure.
3

Its a good sport for girls, Dean said. That,

Vicki thought, was loyaltycoming from a young
man with four brothers and no sister. Takes no
particular strength. Takes a light touch and deftness.
And meticulousness, I guess youd call it. I think
Vic would be good at it, for this reason
Vicki looked at him hopefully. She could use
some help in screwing up courage.
You keep cool, and you think fast and
accurately. In the air you have to do that.
In the laconic tone Dean pronounced his praise,
cool headwork did not sound like much of an
achievement. Oh, well, Vicki thought, I was half
daydreaming, anyhow. I can always take up tatting.
Tatting, indeed! Vicki chided herself for being so
ridiculous. What she really wanted was adventure.
The truth was, as much as she loved her glamorous
job, she felt stewardess work to be a steppingstone
to something else. Exactly what Vicki wasnt sure.
From their table at one of the broad windows,
they watched planes land and take off. Dean,
clenching a muscle in his lean cheek, seemed to be
thinking about something else. He turned to Vicki.
See here, Vic. If you ever actually get around to
taking flight lessons, I wish youd do it in your
home town.
In Fairview? A small field will seem pretty
strange to me after being around big city fields like
4

this one. She waved at the immense airfield, miles

of land and hangars and silver air liners clustered
like great birds. Why, Fairview, for all that its the
best town in the USA, has only some dinky grass
airports.
You forget how fast aviation is growing, Dean
replied. And youve got Bill Avery in Fairview.
Dont know him, Vicki said. Should I? She
admitted that she had not been able to get home very
much recently and that when she was in Fairview
she spent most of her time with her parents and her
young sister Ginny at The Castle. Vicki was out of
touch with Fairview people, hence she had not met
any Bill Avery.
Bill Avery? said Jeans copilot with interest. I
first met the one and only Avery in my training
squadron in Texas. And then wasnt he shipped out
to fly in the Pacific theater? Say, he could fly
anything! So hes a flight instructor now?
Thats right, Dean said. Owns his own airport.
Vic here couldnt do better than to learn to fly from
him.
We-ell. Jim Bolton slowly smiled. Bills a
special sort of character. Hed be a new experience
for Vicki, with some surprises thrown in.
When did Bill Avery open the airport?
Surprises on both sides, Dean answered the
other copilot. They were so absorbed that apparently
5

they had not heard Vickis question.

Say, do you remember how he distinguished
himself
The two young men were off on reminiscences,
talking at top speed. Neither Vicki nor Jean could
break in.
Vicki did not really want to interrupt
particularly when the laughter and talk about Bill
Avery was over and Dean began to tell a curious
story.
When he was a pilot in the Air Force in the
European theater, Dean had met a young man with a
strange tattoo on his arm. Most servicemen abhorred
tattoos, regarding them as something for primitive
savages; tattoos were vanishing even among sailors
and other wanderers for whom the custom once was
traditional, Dean remarked. In any case the aerial
gunner DarnellDean was not sure he remembered
the name correctlywas a wild, strange fellow. He
did not get along well with his crews. One flight
crew after another requested to have Darnell
transferredout. Then he was assigned to the crew
of an officer friend of Deans.
Thats how I met him several times. Wasnt so
bad if you knew him a little better, Dean said. Did
his job well and had a wild sort of sense of humor.
But no one ever really knew Darnell. He didnt
know how to be friends. He was the most secretive
6

person Id ever known. Tense. Too quiet. Reminded

me of a steel spring coiled tight. None of us could
fathom Darnell. But we all had the feeling that if he
ever loosened up thered be plenty to learn.
Good or bad?
Not sure. There wasoh, something powerful
and disturbing about him. Once I saw Darnell lose
his temper and it made you wonder what he was
capable of. Good or bad. But that was only once.
What job did he have in civilian life? Jean
asked.
We never found out anything of Darnells
personal history. Darnell? Purnell? Something like
that. The one revealing thing was that tattoo. And
that was revealing only provided that you knew how
to interpret it. None of us did.
The tattoo, Vicki echoed. Can you describe
it?
Deans forehead wrinkled as he tried to
remember. A plane, wreathed in our regimental
serpent. A very unusual one. The boys generally
went in for a flag tattoo or a pretty girl tattoo. Id
never seen anything like this one. It also had a
dagger, and one German word. I remember the word
was in Gothic lettering.
What was the word? Jim Bolton asked.
Deans eyes were fixed on his wrist watch. We
have to leave for the hangar in exactly three and a
7

half minutes, children. . . . Oh, the word! Seems to

me I never made out that hard-to-read lettering. Or if
someone told me, Ive forgotten.
How can you be so exasperating! Jean Cox
exclaimed. Is that the whole story? What
happened?
Dean said that Darnell had disappeared
suddenly, without a trace. One peaceful day he
simply walked out of camp and was never seen or
heard of again. The authorities searched for him as
they do for all A.W.O.L.s, but they never found
him so far as Dean knew.
The story doesnt make much sense, the other
copilot grumbled.
Well, something happened, thats for sure,
Dean replied. But what it was I dont know.
Vicki felt as disappointed as Jean Cox. The tattoo
mark persisted in Vickis mind. She was curious,
too, to know more about Bill Avery. Someone
special, apparently, right there in her own town . . .
The afternoon flight back to Chicago on a DC-3
went off almost too easily. The sky was like a
dazzling blue lake. Vicki was hostess to a group of
high school students returning with their teachers
from a tour of Detroit factories. She served steaming
coffee to two businessmen; traced the planes route,
winds, and speeds on an air map for a man who was
an eager first rider; provided an invalid older
8

woman with an aspirin, magazines, and soothing

conversation. At a local stop an Egyptian in a
tasseled fez and ordinary suit emplaned. Vicki
discovered, once they took off again, that the
Egyptian gentleman spoke fluent English and was
bursting to tell someone how alike he found the
Mississippi and the Nile. Both good for growing
cotton. But both have floods! And the Nile, too, is
awfully muddy.
Being a diplomat, hostess, first aider,
transportation agent was all in her usual days work.
Vicki felt she could do her job in her sleep.
They flew across Lake Michigan, dotted with
summer sailboats, and into Chicago at dusk. Getting
the passengers off with smiles and good-byes,
checking over the empty plane for any lost articles,
collecting her manifests for the passenger agent
through it all, Vickis mind was not entirely on her
job.
She brooded through a leisurely, early supper at
the airport with Dean. He came bluntly to the heart
of the matter.
You could learn to fly in your time off between
runs. About three months would do it. Couldnt you
work in the required thirty-six hours of flying over
the summer?
You make it sound awfully easy.
Its intensive but not so hard, and itll be the
9

most satisfying thing youve ever done. Ask Federal

to base you in Chicago, so youll be near home.
There are short runs out of Chicago to Minneapolis,
St. Louis, Detroit, and short runs will let you have
two or three days at a time in Fairview.
You mean no New York run? Not see all the
girls in our New York apartment?
Well, youd see them once in a while. If you
decide that you really want a private pilots license,
I want you to take instructions from Bill Avery.
Hes a good flier and a good boyand, well, hes
having a hard pull. Ill write Bill about you. Jim
Bolton will too.
You certainly are pushing me into it!
Oh, Vic, how much longer are you going to go
around in a daze? Think it over.
Vicki did think it over all the next day in
Chicago. She had worked hard to earn a place in the
air, and she loved it. It was her world. But it would
require a lot of courage to take a plane up alone.
She and Jean Cox lunched together. Jean told
Vicki about a national organization that she
belonged to, called Women Fliers of America, with
chapters in various cities all over the United States.
Women aged sixteen and up who held licenses to
fly, or who wished to learn to fly, or who were
interested in other branches of aviation, had joined
together to be friends and to share their flying
10

expenses. They had ground schools, sent out

bulletins of aviation news, offered prizes and flight
scholarships to girls in high school especially, held
flying meets, and in general had a wonderful time.
Their husbands and brothers and beaux, called Back
Seat Pilots, gave them lots of help.
Thats for you, Vicki, Jean told her.
If and when. Vicki was more interested than
she was quite ready to admit.
Vicki was free all that day, and fortunately Ruth
Benson, Chief Flight Stewardess, was in town for a
conference. That stunning, keen-eyed young woman
was pleased with Vickis plan.
Its good publicity for our Federal Airlines
employees to be fliers themselves. Your plan
It isnt really a planyet. It isnt definite,
Vicki stammered. Its just a new idea I have.
Ruth Benson laughed. Dont tell me! Ive been
through this myself. I was twice as jittery as you
are.
Vicki stared. Do you hold a private pilots
license, Miss Benson?
Mmmm. I own half of a Cessna 120, too. My
fianc owns the other half. He says thats the only
reason Im going to marry him. But, confidentially,
it isnt.
By now Vicki was very pink in the face and still
staring. Ruth Benson reached over her desk to give
11

her a quick hug and said:

You cant fool Grandma! I know what that
dreamy, drooling expression means. Ill put you on
short runs out of ChicagoDean Fletcher figured it
out very nicely for you. Now go telephone your
family that youll be right home.
Yesm. Thank you, thank you!
Vicki hurried to the nearest phone booth before
her courage oozed away. Taking a deep breath, she
asked for the long-distance operator, then muttered
to herself:
Ill do it or bust!

12

CHAPTER II

First Step

Vicki arrived home in the middle of the warm, quiet

afternoon. The only family member around was
Freckles, the spaniel, dozing on the sunny grass. He
opened an eye at Vicki and went back to his nap.
But when the taxi driver began noisily unloading her
large suitcase, hatbox, and gift boxes, her mother
came hurrying around the side of the house.
Why, darling! Youre early, and Mrs. Barr
stopped and stared. Since youve brought all that
luggage, you must be going to stay awhile. Good.
As Vicki hugged her, her mother said, You never
stay off your job if you can help it. You havent
been fired, have you? Then whats up?
Youre too smart, Vicki chuckled.
Somethings up. Her mother tilted her head
back, laughing.
Well, yes. You have to be on my side.
Arent I always? Mrs. Barr held open the
screen door to the house, to permit the taxi driver to
13

carry in Vickis luggage. Vicki asked for her sister

Ginny.
Poor Ginny. Mrs. Barr shook her pretty curly
head. Ginnys at the high school, shaking and
cramming before final examinations. Its a shame to
keep the poor youngsters in school, now that its
June. Look at my roses! Arent they lovely?
They walked across the lawn to the rosebushes,
growing in long double rows all the way down to the
road. The branches drooped to the grass under the
weight of the blossoms.
When Vicki paid and tipped the driver, he
requested one of the yellow roses instead of a tip. He
fastened it to his windshield and drove off, down
The Castles long horseshoe driveway.
Vicki took a deep breath of the perfumed air and
listened to the neighborhood stillness. A train
whistle wailed far off on the prairie. Im home,
she thought.
Her mother did not question Vicki about her
plans. Vicki appreciated that. Simpler to tell all the
family together. She unpacked in the blue room
which she shared with Ginny, figuring out how best
to break the news of her big decision to her family
without alarming or antagonizing them. She had no
doubt that her mother would loyally be her first
passenger. Her dad, however, had some oldfashioned ideas and a bad habit of obstructing her
14

plans.
Tactics. Ill have to win Dad over. But how?
Professor Barr, who taught economics at State
University thirty miles away, had objected when
Vicki left college. He had objected when she wanted
to become a flight stewardess. The time Vicki was
assigned to Mexico, Professor Barr objected so
strongly that she nearly didnt get to Mexico. It took
a dozen people to rescue her. Becoming a private
pilot was her least old-fashioned move yet.
If he werent my dad, Id say hes a plain
nuisance. I mean, a plane nuisance. Hah, a pun.
Perhaps shed announce the big news this evening
after dinner. Certainly shed never risk it when her
father was hungry and probably a little irritable.
Ginny came home an hour later. She gave a yelp
of joy at seeing the unwonted amount of luggage in
their room and seized Vicki in her sunburned arms.
You arent leaving tomorrow as usual! Well
have time to go fishing and fix my hair and drive out
to the Jacksons farm for a fried chicken dinner
Sure. Of course we will. Everything. Calm
down, baby. Vicki smiled affectionately at her
younger sister.
Ginny had the same crystalline blond coloring as
Vicki, the same clear features. To look less
utilitarian and exactly like her graceful sister, she
needed only to grow a few inches taller and a few
15

pounds lighter.
Lemonade, their mother called. Here on the
terrace. Lemonade and cookies.
Ginny eyed Vicki. How come?
Yes, thanks, Mother. Be right down, Vicki
called back. Uhhow come what, Ginny?
Will you please stop hedging? Ive spent a hard
afternoon chasing a little amoeba under my
microscope.
We-ell. Vickis soft blue eyes danced. Ginnys
probing eyes sparkled right back at her with
complete understanding. Impossible not to share a
secret with Ginny; they were a team. Coax me,
Vicki said.
Were keeping Mother waiting, Ginny said
righteously.
Very well, dont coax me. Vicki linked arms
with Ginny and they started down the stairs. Keep
quiet about it, though? Im going toahlearn to
fly. As the words came out she felt her face tingle.
Then I am, too! Ginny announced.
Wha-a-at? Vicki hadnt expected this reaction.
Two bombshells? The Barr household might blow
up. You have to be at least sixteen, honey. Of
course, if you really mean it
Yes, I do. I know, about being too young. But I
could do ground school studies, Ginny said eagerly.
And, Vic, Ill help you in every way I can. Youll
16

need it.
Friend. Vicki squeezed her sisters solid little
hand. But I didnt know you, too, wanted
Dying to do it. Its my dream.
We may be able to help each other, Vicki said.
As soon as they were settled on the terrace Vicki
broke the news to her mother. She was startled at
first and offered a few misgivings. But Betty Barrs
heart was not in her objections. Id like to learn to
fly, myself. I admit, Vicki, that I expected you to
graduate to thissooner or later. After exacting a
promise from Vicki to take no foolish chances, her
mother beamed.
Vicki was extremely pleased. Still, she did not
feel sure enough of her ground to inquire about Bill
Avery. Not yet.
Now I only have to tackle Dad, Vicki said.
Only? Ginny gasped.
Imagine! Fly your own planeVicki, if you
dont get your license, Ill never forgive you, her
mother said.
Mrs. Barr, with Ginnys assistance, brought Vicki
up to date on news of their friends, the rock garden,
and Freckles alliance with the Walkers cat next
door. From the flagstone terrace, which faced away
from the road, Vicki could look down on the broad
back lawn with its birdbath and fruit trees, down the
wooded hill and across the lake. This summer she
17

would have time to go swimming off their pier and

to use the outboard motor-boat. Her mother had won
the boat in a contest; her dad had built the pier and a
boat shed behind The Castle.
Vicki enjoyed living here, on the crest of the hill.
When the Barrs, who had only moderate means, had
inherited the property it had been in a run-down
condition. With much repair, gardening, and
enthusiasm, the four Barrs had developed The Castle
to its present loveliness. The house really did
resemble a miniature castle with beams and a tower,
a sloping red-tiled roof, and casement windows.
When Lewis Barr drove up shortly before
suppertime, Vicki wondered how she or anyone
could ever feel impatient with him. He was a tall,
handsome man with fair hair and a smile a yard
wide for Vicki.
Welcome home! Do you know how much we
missed you, Victoria? Lets have a look at you. Her
father held her off at arms length, smiling proudly
at her. You look fine, fine. He himself looked a
little tiredand hungry.
Vickis going to be home lots, all summer!
Ginny shouted. Short runs.
Their father caught up Ginny in his free arm.
Now thats what I like to hear! What would you
like to do this summer? Im at your orders. Well
make this a summer to remember.
18

Vicki nodded but made no comment.

Her father had a gift for festivity. Out of four
glasses of tomato juice, in the long, sunken living
room, he conjured up a cocktail party, with music,
dancing, flowers for all three ladies, and a great deal
of laughter. They lingered over dinner, outdoors on
the terrace, then moved into the garden for coffee.
Freckles chased after fireflies. Lewis Barr relaxed.
His work at the university would occupy only part of
his time until the summer session opened in July.
The talk veered from the university to Fairview, and
Vicki nudged it around to the topic of flying.
Ive been hearing, she attempted, good things
about a boy around here called Bill Avery.
Oh, Bill Avery! said her family warmly.
Everybody likes Bill Avery.
Hes crazy, Ginny blurted out, then instantly
shrank in guilt. I didnt mean that. Hes a fine flier
and flight instruc
More coffee, please! Vicki scowled at Ginny as
she crossed to her mother with her cup. Bad timing.
She had to build up to the revelation so that
Professor Barr would give his approval. In the
fading blue light he had noticed nothing.
Betty Barr said mildly, Bills young and a little
thoughtless. A little harum-scarum. But Bill Avery
is respected here for pioneering the first air-cargo
line in Fairview. Dont you agree, Lewis?
19

Lewis Barr supposed he agreed. He told Vicki, in

response to her questions, that Bill Avery had been a
pilot in the Air Force, was regarded by some as a
flying fool, had undertaken his airfield on little
money and much hard work.
Bills best customer was his friend, Dwight
Mueller, who lived with his wife on one of the many
farms around the river. Dwight and Barbara Mueller
grew hothouse orchids; Chicago florists bought all
they could produce; Bill flew the perishable orchids
to Chicago twice a week. This cargo was the
backbone of Bills business, the one sure thing he
could count on. Many people for miles around
farmers who had perishable crops to ship, doctors
with emergency patients, people in a hurryrelied
on Bill Averys small field. Still, he was having a
hard pull financially.
Dean Fletcher recommended Bill also, Vicki
said carefully, in the capacity of flight instructor.
Her father turned his head. What do you mean
recommended?
Just that, Dad. Vicki swallowed. Big airline
pilots think highly of Bill.
I trust youre not planning to risk your neck
cracking up solo in a plane. Naturally your pilot
friends, who live and breathe flying and live in a
narrow world, are ignorant of anything else. They

20

Dad! Vicki started to explode.

are going to try to talk the population into
fooling around with aircraft. But Im not worried
about you, Vicki. He settled back in his chair. I
know I can rely on your common sense.
Vicki counted to three and took a long breath.
Im glad you have confidence in me, Dad. Ive
done enough flying as a stewardess to have a healthy
knowledge of what you can and cant do in flying
how to avoid risks
To avoid risks, stay out of the air. Her father
sounded pleased with himself.
Just as you say, Dad, Vicki said demurely. She
heard her mother choke in the shadows. Ill think
of something else. Perhaps my own fast little jeep

Her father groaned. Cant you just stay quietly at

home?
And take up tatting? No, thanks.
They dropped the subject, temporarily, while
Betty Barr told Vicki a spectacular piece of news.
This concerned another airfield now under
construction outside Fairview, but so much bigger
than Bill Averys that there could scarcely be any
question of competition.
The new airport could put Fairview on the map,
Professor Barr remarked. It could make us a
transportation center and business center. That,
21

children, means a growing city.

Mr. Barr proceeded to give Vicki all the details
on Corey Field: Andrew Corey had recently come
from Chicago to Fairview, with his wife, to promote
a large new airport. He had brought excellent
personal and business references, and a few skilled
airport personnel of his own. Mr. Corey had
interested the leading businessmen, including Judge
English, Guy Englishs father, and many others, to
invest in Corey Field. Corey was only one of the
owners, but he was the hard-hitting, sparkplug
promoter; he was the one who had dreamed up the
project. Mr. Barr believed Andrew Corey was
president, as was natural enough. The fields big
selling point was that Andrew Corey came to
Fairview announcing an agreement with one of the
biggest airlines in the United States to reroute their
transcontinental planes to stop over at Fairview
rather than at crowded Chicago airports.
Whoops! said Vicki. This Corey must be quite
a boy.
Apparently he was. He had a record of past
business successes and, Mr. Barr said, immense
enthusiasm for this new venture. He and his wife
Janet were attractive, intelligent, affluent people
they had bought a show place of a house here in
town and entertained extensively. Everyone flocked
to them. Invitations to their parties at the country
22

clubwhere they had a three-month guest card

were sought after. Lavish as Romans, Lewis Barr
said.
I think Andrew Corey is a little too much the big
shot, Mrs. Barr said. Just a little too rich and grand
for our small town. Oh, I admit thats just my
personal feeling. I realize hes bringing new
business opportunities to Fairview.
Poor Bill, Vicki murmured, but reconsidered.
But isnt there need for a small, nonscheduled
airfield as well as one serving a national airline?
Certainly there is. You dont have to say poor
Bill Avery. He has an entirely separate sort of
business from the big fields. No relation between
one and the other. In fact, her father said, Andrew
Corey intends to discourage small local flight
business at his big field. It isnt finished yet; its just
beginning to operate.
Where is it? Id like to see it.
Its north of town, Ginny said eagerly. Like
us, only more so. Thats so the planes will keep far
enough from the houses.
And wheres Bills field?
The same. North. For the same reason. Dad,
Ginny asked, I guess the big field and Bills field
adjoin, then, dont they? I dont mean that their
flight strips adjoin, of coursetheres a CAA
regulation saying two flight strips cant be closer
23

together than six miles. But does Bill own all the
land right up to Coreys land, Dad?
Yes, and how do you happen to know so much
about airports and flying, young lady? Isnt one of
you enough?
Then Ill be able to see both fields on the same
trip, Vicki said hastily. Where is this fabulous
Corey on view?
Ginny said that if Vicki went to Guy Englishs
party on Saturday at the country club she probably
would meet Mr. Corey. But how can Guy invite
you if he thinks youre in Hawaii or
At that moment Mrs. Barr declared the
mosquitoes were eating her alive and suggested that
they adjourn to the house. There Vicki decided to
break the news, but Mr. Barr retired behind a
newspaper. She would have to bring the matter to a
head. As soon as tactical, too, because Dean had
written The telephone rang and Ginny rose to
answer it.
Vicki! Telephone for you. Ginny glanced in
their fathers direction. Its Bill Avery.
Oh, yes, Vicki said nonchalantly as she strolled
weak-kneed to the telephone. Probably wants to
know when Ill start my flight lessons.
Victoria! her father protested.
Now, Lewis, their mother said.
Victoria! You could at least talk this over!
24

Hello, Mr. Avery, Vicki gulped into the phone.

. . . Yes. Yes, its Vicki Barr. Will you speak a little
louder, please?
Behind her a hush fell. Vicki was aware of her
father, her mother, and Ginny listening intently to
every word of her conversation. The masculine
voice at the other end of the wire sounded gay and
friendly. Vicki could not hear all he said because of
her fathers muttering. But she heard perfectly when
Bill Avery said:
I sure am looking forward to meeting you,
Vicki. I mean Miss Barr. Oh, shucksVicki. Dean
wrote some mighty nice things about you.
Dont believe all of it, Vicki replied, laughing.
Ginny hissed, Believe what?
Bill Averys voice carried loudly out of the
receiver. When do you want to come over for your
first flying lesson?
Victoria! Her fathers outraged face suddenly
appeared two inches from the telephone.
Tomorrow, Vicki said firmly to Bill Avery.
Ill take my first lesson tomorrow morning. At
ten?
Ten on the nose. Thanks, Miss BarrVicki.
Youll love handling your own ship. See you. Bill
Avery sounded so pleased and expectant that Vicki
smiled as she hung up. Bill sounded awfully nice. . .
. She turned around to face her sputtering father.
25

Victoria, you havent even talked this over with

me. I wont let you do anything this dangerous.
Its less risky than driving a car. Fewer
accidents.
Nonsense! Up there in the air with no support!
The air is solid if you hit it hard enough.
Everybody knew that, her father included.
Victoria, I dont approve!
Mother approves. I approve. Im grown up now,
Dad. Please, please, give me your approval. My
heart is set on learning to fly, and I do want you to
be for it, too.
Her father looked dumfounded. Then his face
softened. He dug his hands in his pockets, thinking.
Well, perhaps I am a little fixed in my ideasat
any rate, on the subject of flying. I dont want to be
intransigent. You reallyhe peered at Vicki
want to fly?
I really, seriously, earnestly do.
Her fathers sculptured forehead puckered as he
tried to understand. Per ardua ad astra. Through
work to the stars . . . accomplishment, self-mastery.
Is that it?
That, and a great deal more. Flying is an
inspiring thing. Its poetry and responsibility and
adventure all mixed together. Honestly, Dad, its the
one thing I most want to do, Vicki appealed to him.
He listened, nodding, considering.
26

Why, wings always have been a symbol of hope

and aspiration. Oh, Dad, I want this so much!
He grinned unexpectedly. Of course I knew
when you introduced this subject that you and your
mother who never sides with me about aviation
had me licked from the start. Her father bent and
kissed the top of her silvery-gold head. But I would
like to know one thing.
What is it, Dad? Vicki asked seriously.
How do you always manage to win your own
way?
I suspect Dad helps you win, Vickis mother
wisely answered for her.
Ginny, the practical one, did not permit Vicki to
taste her triumph for long. She reminded Vicki that
she had an appointment with Bill Avery and a plane,
and had better get enough sleep before the Big Day.
As if anyone could sleep! Vicki exclaimed,
starting upstairs. She couldnt remember when she
had been so happy.

27

CHAPTER III

That Boy Bill

It was a beautiful sunny morning, perfect for flying.

Small planes of all types were tied down around the
edges of the big crude grassy field. But the only
thing flying at Avery Airport was the windsock
turning in the breeze, on a pole atop the hangar, like
a long fools cap. Vicki saw no mechanic around
Bill Averys hangar, either. No lineman appeared
routinely to serve her, and when she had passed the
office shack, it seemed to be deserted. Things were
very quiet on this small field on weekdays,
apparently. Probably a madhouse on week ends
when people who worked all week were at leisure.
Inquisitively Vicki looked around. The field
wasnt impressive, except for its large area. Two
runways of flattened grass with boundary markers, a
makeshift hangar, the office shackthat was about
all. Well, it must be enough and it must be safe, or
else the Civil Aeronautics Authority would never
have approved it.
28

Whore you?
Vicki jumped. A small barefoot boy about five
years old was standing as close as possible beside
her, just under her elbow. He stared at Vicki out of
round solemn eyes, then thought for a while, leaving
his mouth open.
Im Freddie.
Hello, Freddie. Im Vicki. Where is everybody?
Im here, the child stated. My mamas at
home. Shes makin spaghetti things with points on
em. Have you got chewing gum?
Vicki took a piece from her shirt pocket and
found another piece in the pocket of her plaid slacks.
Freddies smile nearly split his face when she gave
him the chewing gum. He shoved both pieces in his
mouth at once.
Wheres Mr. Avery? Vicki asked.
Freddie was unable to speak with all that chewing
gum in his small mouth. He shrugged, combed his
hair with his fingers, and ran off.
A roar and a cloud of dust in the side road filled
the air. A small open yellow car streaked along, tore
up to the taxi strip at sixty miles an hour, then
braked to a screaming stop just short of the airstrip.
The driver swung his legs over the low car door and
jumped out, wiped his hands on his stained work
trousers, and grinned cheerfully at Vicki.
Hi! You Vicki? Youre right on time. Oh,
29

shucks, lets be honest, I mean Im late. Did Freddie

give you my message?
Freddie met me, all right, Vicki replied, adding
to herself, A fine way to run an airport, leaving
business messages with a five-year-old child.
Excuse me for bein late. Bill Avery strolled
toward the grass strip paralleling the runway, jerking
his head for her to follow. This poor old airport
There isnt anybody to run it but me, unless my
friend Dwight Mueller gives me a hand, and Dwight
cant always come in from his farm just so I can
drive downtown. You know, I was goin to be all
dressed up in a starched shirt to meet you, and wear
my best tie
You look fine, Vicki fibbed. He was the
messiest, sloppiestand handsomestboy she had
ever seen. Bill had probably shaved and showered
this morning but seemed to have been enjoying
himself with plenty of grease and dirt since then.
Well, Im glad youre not one of those fussy
females. So prissy and perfectits not worth while
livin with them around. I hope youre not in a hurry
this mornin? Id like to get you acquainted with
your home field before we start the lesson. Cmon
over here and see the pretty little ship youre goin
to take up.
Me? Take up this Cub? When?
This mornin. In a few minutes. Oh, sure, Im
30

goin with you, but youll handle the controls. Bill

Avery patted the yellow wing of the small plane.
Isnt she neat? Has a turned-up nose.
The light one-motor craft looked to Vicki not
much bigger than a grasshopper. If this husky boy
leaned against it, he would probably tip it over.
While Vicki looked at the small short propeller, Bill
Avery looked at Vicki, particularly at her feet, and
rubbed his tousled brown head.
Is something the matter with my feet? Or my
shoes? Vicki frowned down at her low-heeled play
shoes. They happened to be yellow cotton, sling
back and open toes, with a flat bow atop.
He stammered for words. Nothing came out. So
Bill Avery could be bashful, for all his rough-andtumble air. Then a long dimple creased his cheek as
he laughed at himself, still tongue-tied.
Shoes no good? Vicki helped him out.
Your shoes are no good for flyin and theyre
goin to get all dirty.
I suppose you dont approve of the bows, Vicki
said. His earlier remark about fussy females had
nettled her.
The fancy bows are okay, he said halfheartedly.
But those open toes and heels stickin outtheyll
catch in the rudder pedals or brakelook in the
plane. See?
She peered in at the instruments. I see, Vicki
31

said. Im going to take up this plane?

Bill Avery smiled down at her. I guess youre a
little upsetscared. Thats natural. Healthy
instinctkeeps you alert. Dont you worry, though,
Ill look out for you.
Even if I fail at my lessons? Vickis eyes
danced.
If you fail, Ill flunk you, Bill said sternly.
He explained that he was responsible to the CAA
which had granted him, after special training and
long flying experience, his flight instructors license.
CAA tested applicants for any and all types of
license and that would include Vicki Barr, in a few
weeks, when she applied for her private pilots
license.
You know somethin, Vicki? I have your
application blank right now in my office. As soon as
youve taken enough flyin lessons to get ready to
solo, you can fill out your application and mail it in.
Then the CAA in Washington, D.C., will have its
eye on you, pigeon! Now you forget about worryin.
Youre goin to fly as neat and pretty and easy as a
little bird. Bill whistled and flapped his arms to
show her what he meant. Birdman, see?
Vicki began to feel less tense. Learning to fly,
with Bill Avery as her instructor, was going to be
fun.
They faced each other in the sunshine, beside the
32

little yellow plane.

Notice my grass runways? Better than asphalt or
turf to learn on, Bill said a bit defensively. If your
landing isnt perfect, you dont land with such a
bounce in the grass.
Ill bounce anyhow, Vicki predicted. Its a
nice field. It wasnt, but his eyes begged for praise.
Its not bad. It could be real nice. Needs a bit of
fixin upa few touches here and there.
Couldnt Bill Avery see how crude his hangar
and office shack were, how ragged the grass, and
how rundown the entrance from the road? Or was he
so carefree he didnt mind? Vicki had a kinder
thought and said:
There must be an awful lot for one person to
do.
Thats why a lot of things have to be left
undone. Whats the difference? I get along fine.
Bill cheerfully rubbed his classic nose. Not so
fancy a place but comfortable enough to suit me.
Vicki noticed this time that tools and mail lay
helter-skelter on the office doorstep. What must the
inside of the office look like? Well, no doubt Bill
did the essential things. He told her that he had
gradually acquired four planes: this and another
Piper Cub for trainers; a battered, cherished PB-19,
an open cockpit trainer of the type he learned to fly
in his early AAF days; and an old twin-motor DC-3
33

with eight seats, four of them removable, for cargo

or passengers. The latter two were purchased as
surplus from the Government. Bill explained that
when he came out of military servicenot knowing
much of any trade or business except how to fly
most of the good jobs were already taken. He loved
to fly; he obtained the planes which were in good
enough condition and, with his mechanical skills,
put them in fine order.
They sing. I can make faster deliveries with
them than other air transport lines can.
At the moment the big ship was having its threethousand-hour checkup and overhaul, as required by
CAA, over at Mr. Coreys big field next door.
They have a huge, completely equipped hangar
over there with A&E mechanics, Bill said rather
wistfully.
In answer to Vickis question as to why he had
selected Fairview as a likely site for a small private
airfield, Bill Avery replied that he had driven around
two or three states searching for a suitable tract of
land. He saw possibilities in this area when he came
to visit his AAF buddy, Dwight Mueller. Because
his foresight was laughed at, Bill had been able to
purchase this huge tract of land (a safe nine miles
outside town) for a modest sum plus a mortgage. His
friend Dwight had backed him up on the mortgage,
helping him to get a loan from Fairview Building
34

and Loan. Im land poor. I le had very little

money to work with. His only outside help was
occasional assistance from Dwight. The young man
was building his small business out of just his own
efforts.
When I first came here, no one wanted this land
even for a gift. Bills hand absently stroked the
planes wing. It wasnt desirable for farming. No
one wants to live out here, and its too far from town
for a factory. Abandoned pasture, thats all. Bill
waved at the planes parked around. Everyone
hooted when I said airport. Except a few, like
Judge English.
My friend Guy Englishs father?
Oh, you know them. Arent they grand people?
Judge English was really the one who got me my
mortgage on this land, and he even made me a small
loan out of his own pocket. Guess he believes in this
field. I want to hurry up and make money so I can
pay him back. The Judge says theres no hurry but I
feel obligated. He and Guy used to drive out here on
Sundays to see how I was gettin along, all by my
lonesome. Bill chuckled. In the beginning I slept
out here in a tent and after rainstorms people drove
out to see if Id been washed away. But I like bein
outdoors. The only thing I minded was eatin out of
cans for weeks and weeks.
Youre pretty spunky, Vicki murmured. She
35

did not dare say more. Bill Averys ears and face
flamed red with embarrassment.
This place sure was a wilderness. You shouldve
seen me and a rented tractor trompin out the northsouth runway and the northwest-southeast runway
while a couple of cows watched. Tractor shook my
kidneys loose, I swear, Bill said cheerfully. I was
still shakin when I built the hangar.
Vicki gave a low whistle. Bill wasnt joking when
he said he built this business out of nothing but his
broad back and two hands and flying know-how.
You built that big hangar yourself?
With Dwights help. We chopped down the trees
on this land, sent em to a sawmill, got em back as
boards, and in a month up she went. I rigged up a
swingin rope from a rafter so I could put on the
roof. When you havent any money, you have to
figure out all kinds of ways to get things done.
Vicki looked with more respect at the hangar. Just
a big barnlike structure, with one side open to the
weather, and a dirt floor. A covey of small planes
were parked in there. The hangar was a monument
to Bills determination. She certainly would like to
help anyone as independent as Bill Avery. Vicki felt
a little ashamed of herself for being critical because
this place was down at the heels. Why, it wasnt
finished yet . . .
Bill sensed the genuineness of Vickis interest.
36

You encourage me a lot, he remarked.

I didnt say anything. In fact, she didnt venture
to, after that blush of his.
You dont have to say anything. I dont know
how you do it, but you sure do encourage me. I can
use it, too.
He was eager as a friendly pup to tell her more
about the airport. Vicki had only to ask, Exactly
how do you and Bill was off. He flew
nonscheduled commercial flights for passengers
and, mostly, for cargo. Its the same work
scheduled flights do, except that they can carry the
mail and I cant. Nonskeds do hops at odd hours;
they dont need priorities on landings and take-offs
like the big sked lines. He sold gasoline and
servicing to transient fliers who landed at his field.
I charge em only a very small tie-down fee, to
attract em here. Wish I had a restaurant for em,
even a sandwich and milk counter. (Vicki tucked
that remark away for Ginnys possible use.) He
charged a nominal monthly tie-down fee to the
owners of the private planes parked on his field, and
made his profit selling gas and oil and doing minor
service jobs to the crafts in repair. He hired A&E
mechanics to come over and check his repairs, and
sign the CAA slip. Bill was teaching several people
to flyMrs. Fairchild who was the Barrs neighbor,
the taxi driver, and a girl who had gone through high
37

school with Vicki. See that man just drivin in? I

taught him. He owns his own Cessna. Now and
then Bill rented out his planes. In fine weather
people sometimes came out for ten-minute Sunday
flights or a half-hour tour over Fairview. You know
theres a bus line on Lincoln Highway handy to my
field. Occasionally he flew farmers over their land
so that they could check erosion and see how crops
were coming along. When he was hard up for
money, Bill did some stunt flying.
Always did like barnstormin! Look, Vicki, I
dont do all this stuff at one time. I just mean I do a
little of everything. It varies with the season of the
year. I have to spend a certain amount of time bein
the airport manager, keepin records, and so forth. I
have a sales agency to sell planes but I havent sold
one so far. Have to try every angle to earn a dollar.
Shucks, sometimes its so slow out here I go crazy.
If it wasnt for Dwight and his orchid cargoes,
maybe Id let it all go
Bill Avery broke off. His dark-blue eyes searched
Vickis face. Why am I tellin you all this?
Because Im in flying myself.
Hah! You will be after I teach you to fly.
Im in aviation right now, Vicki insisted.
Didnt Dean Fletcher write you Im a stewardess?
Aw, thats not real aviation. Thats just the plus
trimmings. Servin dinner, holdin the passengers
38

hand
Vicki was so hurt that for a moment she could not
speak. Her work with people, and her secondary job
of representing aviation to the public, amounted to a
great deal more than this boy gave credit for. Vicki
remembered her father last evening scornfully
describing fliers as narrow. He had been right.
About all Bill understood was torques and ailerons
and manifold pressure. Vicki said so and wished she
hadnt started to like him so well.
Bill whistled. Whered you learn all those
technical words? He grinned mischievously at her.
Holdin the passengers hand when the plane goes
over a bump. Dressed up pretty all the time, keeps
her plushy plane cabin in apple-pie order.
Seems to me this field could stand a little applepie order, Vicki snapped. Its good business to be
orderly and efficient.
Bill groaned. You sound like my sister. I guess I
must be a hopeless mess.
Quickly Vicki said she hadnt meant that, and that
they both were being pretty silly. They exchanged
uneasy smiles and Vicki suggested that Bill start the
lesson.
All right. Tell me, he said, what makes an
airplane fly?
Vicki offered an explanation. Bill Avery listened
in a sort of polite astonishment, blinking his eyes.
39

Very interesting, he said. Is that your own

original theory? You have the general idea. I dont
mean to hurt your feelings.
Well, youre the teacher, you tell me. What
makes an airplane fly? Vicki chuckled. We sound
like a comedy team. Tell me, Mr. Whittlepip, why
does an airplane stay up in the air?
Bill struck a pose. Because the pilot isnt ready
to come down. Haw-haw-haw. Tell me, Miss
Yellow Top, why is a planes tail like a laundry?
Vicki executed a tap step in the grass. I dont
know, Cap: n, sir. Why is a planes tail like a
laundry?
Because it sends out the wash. Haw-haw-haw.
Say, were good! They laughed and felt better. Felt
as if they had been acquainted for a long time.
Television needs us, Bill said. Come to order.
Class is in session. Now you see this wing and its
ailerons? Wiggle the aileron with your hand. Now
see that airfoil? It determines the air flow, and your
direction. Now come back here to the tail
He started to discuss flight theory but took pity on
Vicki. Ive stuffed you with enough talk. Ill just
take you up for a ride. Youll learn from the feel of
it.
They climbed in and fastened the safety belts, Bill
in the seat ahead of Vickis. The owner of the
private Cessna came over and spun the propeller for
40

them as Bill started the engine. Over the noisy putput of the engine Bill shouted for Vicki to rest her
feet lightly on the duplicate pedals, then he slammed
the door shut. Vicki scarcely noticed that the planes
wheels had left the ground until she felt the motor
pulling hard, like your heart beating when you run
uphill. They rose steeply and fast. The altimeter
needle showed they were up to seven hundred, eight
hundred, now a thousand feet. Bill leveled off and
shouted to Vicki, over the engine noise, to look
down.
We seem not to be moving!
Thats because we have nothin to measure our
movement against. Look at the air-speed indicator!
Ahead of her Bill moved constantly in his seat as
he made small delicate readjustments. Again and
again he touched the stick between his straddled
knees; put his hand briefly on the throttle; his feet
moved lightly on the pedals; now and then his left
hand reached up to the ceiling to turn a little crank
the trim tab.
All this time Bill shouted explanations over his
shoulder but Vicki shouted him down
Its just marvelous! I never dreamed of anything
so wonderful! Big ships, Deans small but old
plane, couldnt touch thisthis airy cradle.
Bill Avery beamed at her over his shoulder, still
gently touching the stick, trimming the tab with a
41

finger tip or a tap of a toe on the rudder pedals.

Want to fly it, Vicki?
The students duplicate stick was between her
knees. By stretching, Vicki kept her toes on the
duplicate rudder pedals. Bill nodded his head. Go
left!
Vicki pressed, simultaneously, on the left pedal
and left on the stick as Bill shouted instructions. The
plane dipped to the left and they went flying on the
new curve, with the earth slipping out of sight and
the sky seeming endless. Vicki, craning, looked
down at the earth, its houses at a tipsy drunken
angle, and she felt slightly seasick. By looking away
at once, she felt fine again. Looking down had
showed her how high up, how alone, their plane
was.
Bill was laughing at her excited face. Straighten
up! I knew youd love it! Turn right!
Easier said than done, Vicki discovered. She
touched the right pedal, gently moved the stick to
the right, very lightlybut not delicately enough.
The plane, instantly responsive and light as a
floating feather, swung gently to the right and they
were not quite level. The horizon line showed their
angle. Correct it! Bill shouted over his shoulder.
Vicki tried to and thought she did. No! Look at
both wings! He made her see they were still
tipsyflying at about a fifteen-degree angle. Bill
42

righted the ship and they went floating into the sun,
Vicki shouting:
Its marvelous! And its not hard, is it?
Even from the back of Bills head, Vicki knew he
approved of her. When they came down she was
breathless with delight.
Ill give you a real lesson next time, Bill said,
helping her out of the plane. We wont count this
onejust an introduction. Vicki, I just have to see
Dwight and theres his car. Come along.
Think Ill make a flier? Vicki asked, trotting
after him.
You bet you will! Anyone who loves it that
much But Bills expression had changed. He
broke into a run toward a quiet-looking young man
who was just getting out of a dilapidated car. He
turned around to beckon Vicki and she saw how
worried he looked.
Something was wrong

43

CHAPTER IV

Unfinished Business

Dwight Mueller shook hands with Vicki when they

were introduced. He was calm and deliberate, even
his sandy coloring was neutral. She looked around
for the orchids Dwight grew and Bill shipped by air.
His old touring car was stacked with cardboard
boxes and plants wrapped in burlap, all in neat
order.
The news isnt good, Mueller was saying to
Bill. Dr. Hale says it will be weeks before Barbara
can walk again, much less help me in the
greenhouses. He explained politely to Vicki, My
wife has been ill and on top of that she has broken
her leg. Trouble comes in bunches, doesnt it?
Im so sorry, Vicki said. An orchid farm
sounds like a dream place, not a place for troubles.
Its beautiful and I hope Bill will bring you out
sometime when my wife feels better. He turned
back to Bill, a disturbed expression on his face, and
Vicki felt in the way. So you see, I have everything
44

to do myselfin the cool house, in the Cattleya

house, watering, repotting, tending the furnaces,
packingand taking care of Barbara besides. I tell
you, Bill, its impossible.
Bill kicked at the hangars dirt floor. Yes, I see. I
dont know how Ill get along without your help,
Dwight.
You know how sorry I am about this.
Obviously this was a private business
conversation. Vicki had no right to listen.
Will you excuse me? she spoke up. I think Ill
go over to the office and pick up a logbook.
Good idea, Bill said promptly. Doors open.
Help yourself. Well see you in a few minutes.
They talked earnestly as she moved off. Vicki
waded through the tall, blowing grass and circled
around planes to reach the office shack.
Vicki opened the door and stood aghast on the
threshold, then sneezed from the dust. What a wreck
the office and lounge was! As if a cyclone had
blasted papers, chairs, maps, parachute, in all
directionsa cyclone named Bill Avery. The worst
of it, Vicki considered, was that this square manywindowed room could be comfortable, even
inviting. On the near side of a counter which divided
the room in half stood wicker chairs, a magazine
table, a round-bellied coal stove for winter months, a
telephone booth, and a bulletin board with notices
45

and CAA regulations. Behind the counter two

ramshackle desks were littered with papers, and files
stood open in crazy disorder.
Vicki gingerly stepped over a discarded paint can.
Soap and water and a broomthats the first thing
this business needs.
Vicki sneezed again as she walked over to look at
the bulletin board. Hanging on a nail was a mans
wrist watch with a sign saying, If you can prove
this is yours, see Bill Avery. Vicki fingered a
miniature white silk parachute lettered in black ink:
Just dropped in: Dorothy JonesPilot George
JonesCopilot Betty Jones. Landed at Home Field
on May 27th, License # B-A-B-Y. She was
studying a photograph of fliers at a breakfast flight
when Bill Avery banged in, letting in a wide band of
sunlight. He was scowling.
Hi! Sorry to make you wait. Why dont you sit
down? He glumly went to the end of the counter
and picked up a new logbook for her, then filled in
their names, airfield, and the date. Ill keep this
right here for you and enter your flyin time each
lesson.
Vicki wanted to examine her logbook, but Bill
put it back on the shelf. He threw himself down in a
wicker chair and covered his face with his hand.
Why, Bill! Whats the matter with you?
Aweverythings the matter. He lit a cigarette,
46

drew one puff, and ground it out on the floor. You

heard, didnt you?
Not very much. Your friend is nice.
Dwight is grand. But hes not goin to have time
to help me out any more. How can he? With all the
poor guy has to do now! From now on its me,
singlehanded, to operate this field every minute of
the night and day.
Will you be able to run the field by yourself?
Vicki asked.
Certainly Ill be able to do it! Bill glared at her.
Id like to hear anyone tell me I cant. Bill stood
up, stretched, then grinned at Vicki. Ive been
through ten times worse than this and landed on my
feet, didnt I? I will again.
All right, all right! Dont tear me to pieces.
Sorry, Vicki. Sure, this is a blow. But if I feel
bad, its only on account of not havin Dwight
around here for a long time to come. We were real
close friends in the Air Force and ever since.
Dwights a wonderful guy. Oh, Ill still fly Dwights
orchid crop to Chicago for himpraise be, because
its the one regular cargo I can count on. But Ill
miss him around here.
Its a shame, Vicki murmured. I guess youll
have to get someone else to help you.
Mmmm. One person cant fly cargo and manage
the field, too, not in the summer. In the winter its
47

possible because were grounded most of the time.

But summers were busy and somebody has to be
here when Im flyin. You know, I did hire a
mechanic last summer. Wish he hadnt moved away
in the meantime. Bill strode restlessly around the
office, touching things. He looked sheepishly at
Vicki. Mechanic couldnt help in here. Awful
neglected, isnt it?
It needs attention, Vicki said tactfully. She saw
unopened business letters.
In the corner a pile of comic sheets stirred and
Freddie crawled out from under them. Hi, he said,
yawning. I read em all twice, Bill, like you said.
Now can I wear your crash helmet?
Did you stay off the flight strips? Bill asked the
child sternly. Did you stay out of the road?
Yep. I just played in the hangar an I saw you
take off an then I corned in here. Now can I wear
your crash helmet? Hlo, Vicki.
Vicki duly returned his greeting. Bill Avery
hoisted the little boy up on his shoulder, and from a
chair handed him a bright red metal helmet. It
completely covered Freddies small head down to
his grin. He begged to wear it home for lunch and
Bill agreed. What do you think of my nephew,
Vicki? A real flier. Freddie helps me.
Freddie wriggled with pleasure on Bills
shoulder. Vicki admired his headgear. Even with the
48

joking and affection, Bill still looked depressed.

Vicki hesitated.
Im sure Freddie is a fine helper. I was
wondering if youd like another helper? Id be glad
to give you a hand cleaning up in here.
Well, if that isnt nice of you! Bill brightened at
once. Then he looked at her distrustfully. No. Id
better not.
Why not? It would be fun to make things
shipshape.
Thats what Im afraid of. Youd make
everything so efficient and prissy I could never find
anything. Couldnt relax in my own office any more.
Id be afraid to move a pencil two inches to the
right. Besides, arent you wearin perfume? Perfume
at an airport?
Vicki was torn between exasperation and
laughter. Of all the crazy, fixed ideas this pilot had!
Laughing, she promised to leave everything lovely
and dirty, and just put the office papers in order.
She swore she would not hang ruffled curtains nor
install dear little canaries.
Bill seemed torn, too, judging from the equivocal
way he studied her. We-ell, he said at last.
Youre a sweetheart to offer, and one of the most
regular people I ever met. But I dont know if I
could stand havin a Miss Prissy around and havin
everything so gosh-darn neat.
49

I dont even let my sister clean up here. My

sistergosh! Freddie is due home for lunch! And
Dwight couldnt stay even while I take the little
fellow home. He let Freddie slide down his back.
Ill walk Freddie home, Vicki said. What
about lunch for you?
There you go! Tryin to pamper me! Make me
soft! All you girls are alike.
Vicki grabbed the little boys hand and said tartly,
You can go hungry and sneeze your head off in this
dust, for all I care! Come on, Freddie! We arent
such Spartans as Bill, are we?
Whats a Spartan? said Freddie, trotting fast.
Bill called after her, laughing. Hey! Come back
tomorrow morning, will you? Ill sweep out the
office for you. He still looked forlorn.
Vicki was invited to stay for lunch. She did, after
telephoning home, because she liked Ruth Streeter
who had dark-blue eyes like Bills. Partly, too, she
wanted to fathom what Freddie had meant by
spaghetti things with points on em. Nothing even
vaguely resembling Freddies description showed up
at table, though. It was a pleasant lunch, with
Freddie prattling of the flying hed done that
morning, and Ruth Streeter commiserating with
Vicki about Bills slipshod habits.
Hes the best brother in the world, but I confess I
50

gave up long ago trying to keep Bill or his clothes or

his room in any kind of order.
Both Ruth and the small bungalow were trim and
attractive and somehow self-contained. Mrs. Streeter
and Freddie were staying in Fairview only
temporarilyjust long enough to move Bill out of
the airfield where he had been living in Sloppy Joe
fashion, and move him into this modest bungalow.
Once his sister felt Bill to be safely reconverted to
civilization, she and her small son would move on to
California. Her and Bills parents lived there; Ruth
had an interesting job awaiting her there. There
seemed to be no Mr. Streeter. Vicki, of course, did
not ask.
After lunch they tucked Freddie, freshly washed,
into bed for a nap. When Vicki remarked that it was
time she started for home, Ruth Streeter warmly
insisted that she stay and visit for a while.
I dont know many girls here to talk to. Bills
sister smiled as they walked into the living room. I
do get tired of fliers, even though Jerry, my
husband, was a flier. She said simply, He was lost
while he was on active duty in the Air Force.
Vicki knew there was nothing anyone could say.
She looked at Ruth Streeter with her heart in her
eyes. No wonder the other girl wanted to talk. Bills
sister lifted down a large album from a bookshelf
and sat down next to Vicki on the sofa.
51

Are you interested in photography?

Of course. Vicki would have manufactured an
interest in any subject Ruth was hungry to talk
about.
Ill try not to bore you, Vicki. My husband
didnt take a great many pictures, but he did take
good, dramatic ones.
Smiling, Ruth showed her some large shiny
snapshots of Jerry Streeter. Vicki saw that Freddie
closely resembled his father. All the photos had been
snapped un-posed at a wartime airfield. There were
photographs of a ground crew at work on a plane, a
pair of pilots laughing together, three boys poking
around in a B-29s engine, fighter planes flying in V
formation, men in fatigues waiting while mail was
handed around. A rush of memory brought back to
Vicki the wartime reminiscences of Dean and Jim
Bolton in the Kitty Hawk room. Vicki asked where
the pictures were taken. In Germany, mostly. Ruth
Streeter named the year. Jerry Streeters face bobbed
up on page after page, and Ruth smiled. Ruths
smile was quieter, older, than Bills engagingly
merry look.
No pictures of your brother? Vicki asked.
Not in this album. Bill served in the Pacific.
One photo arrested Vickis attention. It showed a
group of enlisted men, sleeves rolled up or shirts off,
tuning up a four-motor plane. One striking, sullen52

looking boy had a big splotch on his forearma

stain or a burn. It was hardly noticeable because the
boys arm was upraised. Vicki looked more closely.
This was a large, clear photo, but she asked Ruth
Streeter if she had a magnifying glass.
Yes, on the table. Here you are. What for,
Vicki?
Can you make anything of the mark on this
boys arm?
Bills sister and Vicki peered in turn at the
apparent burn. Under the magnifying glass it
became clearly visible as a tattoo.
Its odd, Vicki muttered. But I cant make out
the design.
You have sharper eyes than I have, Ruth
Streeter said. I cant see anything unusual there.
Vicki did not tell Ruth that it was Deans story of
the flier with the tattoo which made that photo
significant.
Do you know who this boy is, Ruth? His name?
No.
Anything at all about him?
No, Im sorry. The dark-blue eyes, like Bills,
were troubled.
Perhaps it was just another photo of another flier
wearing a foolish memento.
They went on turning the pages of the treasured
photo album. The sullen boy did not reappear in any
53

of the other pictures. What was that name Dean had

mentioned? Darnell? Dean had said the boy
disappeared. Ruth Streeters voice blurred in Vickis
ears as she tried to remembertried to capture some
echo whispering insistently at the back of her mind.

54

CHAPTER V

Vicki Goes Visiting

Brakes screeched and a horn honked loudly outside

The Castle. Vicki, with comb and brush in her hand,
stepped out on the balcony to see who was making
such a racket at eight in the morning.
Good morning! Bill Avery grinned and waved
up at her. Are you ready?
Yes, but Didnt we say at ten?
This is something else. Well? Youre ready, so
come on. Hurry up!
Vicki gave her hair a lick and a promise, raced
downstairs to the dining room, and snatched a roll
off the breakfast table. Her father and mother,
absorbed in the morning newspaper, glanced up in
time to see Vicki dash out. A moment later Bills
yellow roadster took off like a rocket.
He drove with an easy, effortless power. Bill
Avery was remarkably clean this morning, Vicki
noticed. He wore a fresh white shirt. His face and
brown hair showed recent traces of soap and water.
55

Vicki hoped it was a compliment or at least a

concession to her. Bill said:
Were goin to Corey Field to see when my DC3 can come home. His eyes flickered away from
the road toward her and he noticed the roll. Well
get some breakfast over there.
Want a bite? Vicki held the roll as Bill took an
enormous bite. Why do you want me to come
along, Bill?
For company. Thought youd like to see Mr.
Coreys field.
Whos at your airfield now?
No one. Isnt that dandy? But its early and its
Friday, which means business will be slow, Bill
said as he accepted the rest of the roll. In fact,
deserted. Not like what youre going to see in a
couple of minutes.
They drove fast along the country roads. They
came to Bills big stretch of land, and passed it.
Presently hangars loomed up. Vicki saw men on
bulldozers leveling a hill. Bill entered Corey Field,
his face expressionless.
Big place, huh? And it isnt even finished yet,
Bill said, pulling into a paved parking area.
Vicki looked penetratingly at him. This important
field was right next door to Bills makeshift field
was that why he had wanted her along with him? To
bolster his morale? But he seemed breezy and
56

untroubled as he helped her out of the car. He

pointed out to her the half-finished administration
building with its good-sized terminal, space for
offices and shops eventually, and a control tower.
He talked about the six hangars going up, the paved
flight strips, the taxiways, the field lights in crates
waiting to be installedwith as much pleasure as if
all this were his own.
But, Bill she quavered but could not
continue.
Finally Bill noticed her overwhelmed look. He
threw back his head and laughed. Pigeon, youre
worryin for no reason. Theres no competition, no
competition at all, between Corey Field and my
shoestring operation. Why, a heap of money is in
this placeFairview dollars mostly. You dont think
Corey Field would bother the way I do with local
farmers and private fliers who want ten gallons of
gas and short cargo hops? Dont you know that a
national airline is goin to stop right here, instead of
at Chicago?
Vicki gulped. Youve got a formidable rival
field right next door to you.
Now look, Vicki. Railroads are fine, but trucks
and buses are needed too, arent they? And theres a
lot more of em. Its the same with a town or area
needin airfields. The City Planning Commission
told me that if Fairview didnt have a nonscheduled
57

field like mine, someoned have to start oneCorey

Field or no. Pigeon, these two fields do entirely
different jobs. Handle separate kinds of air traffic.
They dont overlap. Theres plenty of business for
me, if I can attract it. Now do you see?
I guess I do, now.
Shucks, Mr. Corey himself feels the same way
about it. He told me hes glad theres a small
operations field to round out and balance the
picture. Hes told me over and over again that hell
help me in any way, because I keep him from bein
pestered with the local stuff. Mr. Corey already sent
me cargo jobs for local farmers.
Thats better. Vicki let out a sigh of relief. Now
she was able to look around and frankly admire this
well-equipped airport.
Bill watched a four-motor DC-4 being fueled
with gasoline. How those babies slurp up the gas!
About two thousand gallons at one time. But Im
glad to sell ten gallons to a Cub.
He had to shout because a plane was circling for a
landing. The sleek private craft glided down
smoothly, swiftly, taxied, and stopped right in front
of the two young people. The executive four-place
Beechcraft, with its own private pilot, was a
beautya peacock among these other sparrows and
bald eagles. Vicki watched a tall, portly, middleaged man step out, his hat in his hand, and look
58

around him with an air of satisfaction. A secretary

followed him.
He smiles as if he own this place, Vicki
muttered.
He does. Thats Andrew Corey, Bill answered.
He doesnt own it all, but he owns the controlling
share of the stock and the votesin exchange for
the magnificent job hes done here.
Fair enough.
They watched Mr. Corey pat his pilot on the
shoulder.
Hes a dynamo, Bill said admiringly. Hes the
one who promoted that national airline into
rerouting its ships to land here when the field is
ready. It took Corey to wake up this town.
Andrew Corey walked like an emperor. A genial
Caesar, Vicki thought, who radiated such confidence
and enthusiasm that it was catching. Vicki had
talked with enough top-flight executives on her
stewardess trips to recognize in Andrew Corey the
eagle-eyed alertness, the grand manner, and
powerful personality which were often typical of
men of great practical achievement.
He saw Bill Avery standing there and hailed him.
Vicki went over with Bill but remained in the
background. Andrew Corey noticed her, and Bill
introduced her.
Oh, yes, Professor Barrs daughter. Rather
59

original economist, your father, he boomed. First

met him some years ago at a trade conference I
arranged. Now tell me, Bill, how are things going
with you?
Just fair, sir.
Just fair? Well, keep a stiff upper lip. You
should have an active summer business, and Ill
throw some extra contracts your way. Someone
called: New York will call you in ten minutes, Mr.
Corey! Coreys smile faded, his heavy face relaxed,
and Vicki saw the fatigue, the weight of
responsibility, the creeping age which his
achievements had cost the man. But Corey smiled
again when he looked at young Bill Avery, as if
refreshed. See Paul Winter and tell him I said to
turn over the Greensville pickup job to you, Bill.
Thank you, Mr. Corey. Then Bill mentioned to
the older man that his friend, Dwight Mueller, was
going to be unable to help him for a long while.
Too bad but not fatal. Is it? Andrew Corey
commented. Youll make out. It would be easier
for you, however, now that youre alone, if you
werent burdened with so much land.
Bills jaw set. Yes and no, sir.
When are you going to listen to me when I give
you advice? What do you want with all that big
acreage?
Bill looked sheepish but stubborn. I dont quite
60

know, but I figure that Ill need it, sooner or later. It

doesnt cost me anything but taxes to hold on to that
land.
Nothing but taxes and mortgage payments and a
big headache! Andrew Corey shook his gray head.
Now you listen to me, young fellow. Get rid of
some of that land youre not using. Ill take some of
it off your hands.
Its a mighty temptin offer, Mr. Corey. I
thought it over
Mr. Corey interrupted. You bought that land for
a song and Ill give you a very handsome price for
it. You deserve that much for your enterprise. You
were here first and got the choice ground, but you
must know that an airport our size needs more room.
Id like to have a really big parking space out here,
for instance. I dont know what you paid, Bill, but
Ill give you all you paid and a very fair return on
your money. Vicki liked the way Andrew Corey
talked to Bill man to man. Couldnt you use several
thousand dollars? Wouldnt you like to improve and
extend your equipment, and buy yourself another
couple of planes?
Vicki was staggered. Several thousand dollars!
What a wonderful offer to fall out of the blue!
Andrew Corey waved away three men hovering
close by with blueprints. In just a minute,
gentleman. Im talking to my neighbor. Well, Bill?
61

Im not going to ask you again.

Mr. Corey, I hardly know what to say, Bill got
out. Sure, I could use the cash, but, on the other
hand, a small operations field doesnt need a lot
more equipment than what I already have. You
know that, sir. Corey raised his eyebrows. I feel
bad, sir. Id like to do anything you say. But Ithat
field is part of me. I worked darn hard on it, I know
every yard of ground. I could about as soon sell my
left foot.
Well, never mind, boy. Its not too important. If
you change your mind, let me know. Corey took a
deep breath of the clear, sunny air. How do you
like our control tower? Well have three tower
operators to start. Were looking for flight
instructors and pilots, too. Can you recommend
anyone? If you didnt have your own field, Id say
move over here yourself. Youre a born flier. Wed
like to have you.
The long dimple creased Bills cheek. He jammed
his hands in his pocket. Thank you, sir, but I dont
want a job and Im not going to sell any of my land.
Im sorry, but
Dont be sorry, dont explain! The promoter
chuckled, evidently pleased by Bill Averys spirit.
If I were in your position, full of git-up-and-git,
young and foolish and shortsighted, Id say No, sir,
Mr. Corey, too. I was only trying to help you; I
62

have no particular need of that land as you can see

for yourself. All right, young fellow, I wish you
luck! Dont forget to see Paul Winter.
He moved off smiling, and instantly was
surrounded by the three men with blueprints, several
contractors, lawyers, and his secretary. Andrew
Coreys massive gray head towered above all the
others.
Vicki whirled around to stare at Bill. He had a
dumfounded grin on his sunburned face. He really
likes you, doesnt he?
Bill shrugged. Hes a grand person, thats all.
Mr. Coreys nice like that to everybody.
You cant help liking him and being impressed
by him, Vicki said. Whyif you dont mind my
asking did you turn down that marvelous offer?
Ohhhuh Thats my land. Ill find a use for it
some day. Vicki inquired if he meant to hold out
for a bigger price? No, thats not it. Mr. Coreys
offered me a real generous price. Besides, he
probably wont need the land any more later than he
needs it now. Not that he needs it especially at all.
Heck, he has plenty of land. Corey just wants to do
things on a grand scalehe wants the earth. Vicki,
you think Im pigheaded not to take his offer, dont
you?
Jeepers, Bill, I wouldnt know. I could straighten
up your office but I wouldnt presume to offer
63

business advice.
Lets settle for a quick cup of coffee.
The restaurant was still wet with mortar and paint
but a sandwich counter was open. Vicki
remembered Ginny and vowed that Avery Airport
would have a food service, too. Bill absent-mindedly
agreed.
Ill bet, Vicki said, Mr. Corey would come
over for a cup of coffee.
Sure he would. Bill slapped down some coins
on the counter. What a guy! Come on, we have to
hurry. No one at home field.
Bill hustled her around steel skeletons of
buildings to Hangar No. 3. He took a moment to
admire a private Cessna. It came from Chicago, he
said. He showed Vicki where to look for the license
number NC (for National Craft) followed by a
number.
They entered the immense hangar where
coveralled mechanics on stepladders were repairing
a transport plane. Bill saw his cargo plane and his
face righted. H ran toward the big two-motor craft.
Hi, Spin! Hows she behavin?
Runs like a sewin machine, a flat voice
answered.
A slight, short young man boosted himself down
from the planes nose. He had jet-black hair and a
cross expression. We gave your DC-3 a complete
64

three-thousand-hour check and overhaul, and CAAs

MacDonald just okayed her.
The mechanic tensely inclined his black head.
Vicki saw a tall, thin man in a tweed suit inspecting
a small plane farther down the hangar.
This ship was in perfectly good condition when I
brought her in. Bill stopped examining a propeller.
Whats eatin you, Spin?
Watch that crank MacDonald. With his hands
the CAA inspector tested the wing fabric of the
small ship, frowning. He took a knife from his
pocket and slit a small L-shaped cut in the fabric of
the wing. The cloth hung open.
This fabric has rotted, Vicki heard the CAA
man state. Unsafe. This ship is grounded until the
wings are recovered. MacDonalds voice was
dispassionate and aloof. Dont just patch up the old
fabric, either.
Next to Vicki, the mechanic muttered under his
breath. Bill laughed. Macs just doin his job.
Youre the cranky one. Vicki, I want you to meet the
best A&E mechanic I ever came acrossSpin
Voight. Miss Barr is a flight stewardess.
Vicki extended her hand. The silent mechanic did
not take it, whether from embarrassment or
rudeness, she did not know. Or perhaps he
considered his hands too dirty; his long-sleeved
coveralls showed oil stains. To bridge the awkward
65

pause, Vicki asked what A&E meant. Bill said,

Aircraft and Engine. Requires taking CAA exams
at intervals. The wiry mechanic gave her a look of
contempt for her ignorance. Vicki coolly let it pass.
Everyone knew mechanics were a race unto
themselves, a combination of gypsy, genius, and
plain crazy.
Bill seemed to consider this one a genius. He
turned his back on Vicki and engaged in a respectful
discussion with Spin Voight. Vicki cheerfully
waited. This wiry, deadpan, young man looked
familiar. Where had she seen him before? . . . She
met so many people. At the moment he was
grumbling to Bill:
Number forty-seven of the things Id like to see
before I die. Thats a stewardess who doesnt think
shes a gift of nature because shes a female.
Bill was amused. I learned to fly from women
flight instructors in the Air Force. We had girl A&E
mechanics keepin our warplanes in good order.
Anyhow, Vicki is takin flight lessons. The
mechanic regarded Vicki without interest. Snap out
of it, sourpuss, Bill said.
Number twenty-three of the things Id like to
see. A CAA inspector whos had as much
experience as the mechanics he judges.
He judges fliers, too, but I dont get mad at the
CAA.
66

So what? I hold a pilots license, too.

Number fifty in things Id like to see before I
die, Bill mimicked. A mechanic who doesnt have
severe arthritis.
Spin Voight actually forced out a smile. It
included Vicki, and she ventured:
Whered you get your A&E?
The mechanic seemed surprised. He answered
grudgingly, In the Air Force.
But Bill said girls were A&E mechanics in the

So what? They had men A&E mechanics, too,

didnt they? he countered resentfully.
She must have touched a tender spot without
knowing it. My error, Spin. Oh, now I know where
I remember you from! She suddenly recalled the
photo album Ruth Streeter had shown her. Were
you ever in Germany?
Excuse me, but you sure ask crazy questions.
Vicki was astonished at his evasiveness. I just
thought I knew or remembered something about
yousomething special, she added with a smile.
You know, people have birthmarks or moles or
scars or
I havent any marks and I never been in
Germany! he said with such stifled anger that Vicki
felt hurt by the rebuffand curious. Why had her
simple questions antagonized the mechanic? Did he
67

have something to conceal?

Maybe you know Dean Fletcher, a friend of
minean ex-Air Force pilot? Vicki asked with a
forced smile, trying to overcome her feeling of
dislike for the man.
Spins anger turned to ice. Never heard of him.
Why so many questions? Women! Just what we
dont need around an airfield. And
To ease the tension, Bill interrupted. What you
need, DwightI mean, Spinis a ten-minute break.
I guess if I did nerve-racking precision work like
yours all day, every day, I might get temperamental,
too.
We worked till midnight last night. Spin looked
at Vicki in half-apology. I dont want the overtime
pay that bad. Aw, Coreys grand, but theres too
many other bosses around Corey Field. I dont need
someone tellin me every minute what to do,
contradictin what the other boss ordered, tellin me
how to do it. Im a first-class mechanic and I
Listen, DwightI mean, Spin
That was the second time Bill made that mistake,
Vicki observed. Bill must miss Dwight so much that
he regarded this air-minded boy as a substitute. All
Bills guards were down with this cagey mechanic.
Because the two young men wanted to talk in
privacy, Vicki went outdoors and perched on a box
in the sunshine. Her pretense of coolness with Spin
68

evaporated now. What lay behind his extraordinary

reactions to her perfectly ordinary questions
questions that all veterans took for granted. Never in
Germany? She was convinced that the mechanic had
lied. When she looked again at the photograph in
Ruth Streeters album, perhaps shed have the
answer to that question.
Bill rejoined her in a few minutes, smiling and
pleased. Vicki did not see how anyone could be
pleased with that prima donna of a mechanic, but
apparently Bill valued Spins ability highly. In fact,
so did Andrew Corey himself. Bill said as they
walked back to the car that Mr. Corey had brought
this mechanic down from Chicago with him, along
with other hand-picked personnel to start the new
field. Since then a great many more mechanics had
been hired.
I asked Spin if hed like to work over at my
field.
Vicki felt rather sick. Still, it was Bills business,
not hers. And what did she definitely know about
Spin Voight? Nothing. Well, you do need
someone, she said as they climbed into the yellow
roadster.
Spin is terrific, pigeon. A little peculiar, maybe,
and his manners are rough, but his heart is in flyin,
the way mine is.
Vicki did not think Spin Voight had any heart. To
69

say so would be to alienate Bill Avery, whom she

was only beginning to know. Besides, Bill looked so
pleased about Spin. Maybe Im wrong, Vicki
thought. I hope so. Aloud she said, You called
him Dwight
Did I? Whats the matter with this ignition. Darn
it! There. The car started rolling. Boy, oh, boy, Id
have the best A&E mechanic between here and
Hickam Field. Whooeee!
Vicki tried to look pleased, enthusiastic, and
hopeful, but suspected she merely looked baffled.
Spin Voight was to let Bill know within a few days
if he would become a part of Avery Airport.
Ready for your first flight lesson? Bill
demanded in her left ear.
Am I! Vicki snapped right back to normal.

70

CHAPTER VI

Harum-Scarum

Vicki and Bill Avery had sat down beside the cub, in
the blowing grass and sun, while Bill taught her
some essentials of flight theory. A lone plane in the
air, he told her, was supported from the ground by a
solid complex of weather towers, machine shops,
radio beams, searchlights, and highly skilled
personnel.
Never forget that, Bill said. Pilots get too
cocky. Spin Voight can tell you
Always check your plane before goin up.
Always! Dont spin that prop until youre plumb
sure the plane is in A-1 workin order.
Im no mechanic, Vicki said, worrying a
puffball.
Not necessary. Ill show you. Dont leave the
ground unless youre sure, understand? Always
check! Always! Now stand up and put your hand on
the winghere. They squinted in the sun. That
movable section is the aileron. Thats what makes
71

the plane fly level or at an angle and its connected

with your stick in the cabin. Wiggle the aileron with
your hand. Harderit wont bite you. Harder!
Vicki wiggled it. She hoped that they were not
going to stumble into the fussy female argument
again. She tried hard to learn as Bill, now aloof and
strict, led her slowly around her plane to see and
touch its various parts.
This small movable piece on top of the planes
tail is the rudder, see? Wiggle it. Vicki obediently
maneuvered the rudder with her hand. Bills darkblue eyes watched her sharply. Okay. If you press
down on your right rudder pedal, in the cabin, the
planes nose moves to the right. If you press down
on the left pedal, this rudder sends the planes nose
to the left. Roger?
Yep. Roger or wilco or whatever it is.
Bill showed her, on the underside of the little
planes tail, the two mechanisms called elevators.
These lifted the plane. Push your stick forward and
the planes nose goes down. Pull your stick back and
the planes nose raises up.
It doesnt sound so hard, Vicki said hopefully.
Stick to go up and down. Pedals to go right and
left. The palms of her hands were wet. Bill took a
long look at her.
Now stop workin yourself up, pigeon. You can
trust yourself to the air. When you swim, you have
72

confidence that the water will hold you up, dont

you? The air will hold you up, too. The air isnt a
nothing, Vicki. Air is a gas; it has substance and
weight and depth, and the power to hold you up.
Thanks, Bill.
He was an experienced teacher, she saw. The way
flying worked was simply this: A wing moving
forward through the air is what permits a plane to
fly, Bill explained. Why? The wing is curved at the
top, and very slightly curved across the bottom. The
lift comes mostly from the top. Air traveling
across a curved surface must take a longer path than
usual, and this creates lessened air pressure which
literally lifts the wing upward. A very little lift
comes from the underside of the wing, too.
To keep the wings moving forward through the
airthat is, to make the plane stay uprequires
speed. In flying its safe to go fast but dangerous to
go slow, Bill said. Its safe to be high, dangerous
to fly low. Its the opposite of earth rules.
Bill had a look at the magnetos, made a quick line
check, then untied the planes rope from the tie hook
on the wing, coiled the rope around the tie-down
stake, and shouted to a man on the field to spin the
propeller blade for them. They climbed into the
trainer, Bill in the front seat, Vicki behind him in the
students seat.
Put your feet on the rudder pedals. Hand on the
73

stick, Bill ordered. Vicki straddled the stick which

came out of the floor. Darn it, she was too small as
usual. Next time shed put a cushion behind her. Bill
signaled the man to spin the prop and at the same
time he opened the throttle. Have to warm up the
oil! he shouted over the noisy engine. Watch
meheels on brakes, crack throttle slightly, switch
on. See? Did you fasten your safety belt? The ship
was vibrating.
Heavens, no! I was so excited I forgot! Of all
the hundreds of times she, a stewardess, had helped
her passengers to fasten their safety belts, and now
Bill had to remind her. Vicki determined to try
harder. Suddenly she realized that she had to remind
him of something.
Bill! Did you check this plane? I mean not just a
quick once-over but a thorough check?
Uhyes! he shouted back. Last night in the
hangar. And didnt you see me give it a line check
just now?
I saw you walk around this plane and kick the
tires to see if theyre blown up and peek at the tail
wheel. And you gave the control wires a little tug to
make sure they didnt come out in your hand. But,
Bill! A line checks only a surface check! Thought
you said alwaysbefore going up
You win! He reached up and cranked the trim
tab on the ceiling to put the ailerons in position, bent
74

over the instrument board, and then turned around to

nod and grin. All ready to go!
Once up, Vicki tried so hard that she jerked the
stick, sent the plane flying on its side, and nearly
burst into tears. Even the back of Bill Averys head
looked disgusted. Each time he merely called
instructions which she struggled to perform, and
righted the ship. The light plane was alarmingly
responsive to her merest touchuntil Vicki realized
the little ship was designed to do the right thing
almost in spite of its present pilot. She did do a few
things correctly.
All right, stewardess, at ease! Bill shouted at
last. Sit back and enjoy the ride.
Am I as bad as that?
Fortunately Bill could not hear. Vicki leaned back
in the leather seat but could not lose her tenseness in
the pleasure of flying. She wasnt sure what Bill
Avery thought of her on her first attempt to fly, but
the landscape below was so lovely that she soon put
off wondering.
On Saturday Vicki took her mothers advice not
to go to the airfield, but to stay home and rest a bit
before Guy Englishs party.
She helped Ginny paint the Barrs old
wheelbarrow redGinny wouldnt tell anyone
whyand they gathered together the groceries
Ginny wanted for making sandwiches. Her small
75

sister had some attractive idea for a snack service at

Bills airport. If she knew Ginny, it was a
hardheaded business plan as well. Wait until
tomorrow, when Ill lure the Sunday trade was all
Ginny would say. Go on to your party, Vic, Im not
going to tell you a thing.
Guy Englishs party made that June evening
something to remember. The country club, with its
verandas built out over a lake and surrounded by
moonlit golf links, spilled over with young people
and music. On the brightly lighted dance floor, the
girls white and pastel dresses moved like great
flowers against their partners outstretched arms.
Guy, dancing with Vicki, looked over her head to
smile his gentle smile at his father. The Judge, who
might have been a gaunt, benevolent ghost, peered
in from one of the smaller rooms. Vicki thought she
glimpsed Andrew Corey, as well. This was Guys
birthday. The party half turned intothanks to
Guys unselfishnessa home-coming for Vicki, too.
It was marvelous to see her old friends again.
While the orchestra took an intermission, they all
crowded togetherthe way they used to do when
they were Fairview Highs brightest graduating
class. Dickie Brown and his sister Lynn clamored to
hear about Vickis flying lessons. Tootsie Miller
sighed, Yes, tell us, if only to keep me from being
76

tempted by ice cream and brownies. Tootsie was

dieting and cranky; the Kramer boys said in their
blunt way that they preferred Tootsie plump and
pleasant.
Arent you scared, Vicki? Lynn asked.
Your father, Guy English put in quietly, has
been boasting all over town, My daughter flies, you
know. Did you know that?
How much math and mechanics must you
know? Dickie Brown asked. I remember you and
mathouch!
Whats it like, Vic?
How could she possibly put into words the
thrilling, terrifying half hour Bill Avery and that
little trainer plane had put her through? Somehow
the experience and the telling became clearer when
she saw Judge English had joined them and was
listening, too.
The Judge always reminded Vicki of Lincoln, and
when she had been very small she had thought that
this spare, stern, yet compassionate man was indeed
Abraham Lincoln. Partly responsible for this feeling
of reverence was the fact that the English family
lived in a rambling frame house from whose front
porch Lincoln had spoken. In the Judges presence
the truth had a way of coming out, in peoples minds
and on their tongues.
Yes. Yes, Judge English said, nodding at Vicki.
77

I am sure flying is as fine as you say. Bill Avery

has helped me to feel a little of the moral basis of
flight. The airman has a perspective of the earth seen
whole. War or peace is largely entrusted to fliers
the Judge paused and smiled. Yes, Vicki, Ill try to
come out to the Avery Airport soon. Perhaps
tomorrow, or at least some Sunday soon.
On Sunday Bills airport resembled a mob scene.
Vicki arrived early, hoping if not for a lesson, at
least for a flight. But Bills rental planes were
jealously booked for all day. People crammed into
the dusty office for logbooks, reservations on the
schedule sheet, and gossip. Bill behind the counter
scarcely had a moment for Vicki. She relieved him
to take payments while he ran off to the hangar. His
sister Ruth could not come to help because Freddie
was in bed with a fever. The private planes were all
in use: taxiing, or waiting to take off, or barely
visible in the sky. Visiting planes flew in from other
fields. Today a man with a light gun stood in the
center of Bills field, signaling for take-offs and
landings. No one else was allowed on the airstrips
on foot.
By noon the activity had subsided and Vicki
needed a breather. She went outdoors and joined the
gay friendly group standing outside the office shack,
watching the planes and waiting their own turns to
go up. Hes a pilot, Vicki heard the murmur go
78

around when someone in the sky executed a neat

falling leaf. Look, theres Di Pernas Aeronca
with a new windshield. Dont you go stunt flying
with Wally until his plane is stressed for it. Vicki
felt as if she had joined a flying fraternity.
She tore herself away only when she saw her
parents and Ginny drive up. They carefully lifted out
of the car the red wheelbarrow and a picnic basket.
Ginny in a gingham dress looked plumply
appetizing herself.
Baby! Vicki ran over to her, waving as her
mother and father drove off. What have you there?
How tempting!
Ginny had packed the red wheelbarrow with dry
ice, and studded the ice with bottles of coke and of
milk. The picnic basket held assorted sandwiches in
waxed paper, and Vicki belatedly noticed their big
thermos jug. Hot coffee, Ginny said with pride.
Paper cups. Heres cream and sugar. The cash
drawer was a large pocket in Ginnys dress.
Ginny, youll get rich! Everybody here would
die of starvation without you!
Vicki hungrily purchased the very first sandwich
and promised to advertise Ginnys wares by strolling
past the watching fliers while eating Ginnys
sandwich and smacking her lips. Vicki did so, and
helped Bill in the hangar for a while. Late in the
afternoon the man who owned the Cessna invited
79

Vicki for a hop with him and his wifea generous

custom at small fields.
At the end of the long, warm Sunday afternoon
Vicki hunted up her sister. Ginnys confidence and
red-and-white dress both were wilted. Her sandwich
basket was full and the wheelbarrow was still
plentifully stocked with beverages. Ginny looked
gloomy and in despair handed Vicki a chocolate
milk. Here, you might as well.
Why, Ginny! What happened? Or didnt
happen?
Fliers are crazy! Ginny exploded. You know
what? They forget to eat. Ginny had sold very few
sandwiches, most of them to a transient pilot on his
way from Memphis to Canada. Bill had bought a
dozen cokes for his friends, who had helped him
today. Vicki sadly murmured something about not
flying on a full stomach. Pooh! said Ginny.
Theyre so wrapped up in flying that Look at
em!
Ginny rudely pointed and Vicki looked. The same
group of fliers with whom she had stood hours ago
watching the planes from the best vantage pointin
front of the officestill stood there. They had been
up flying, and drifted back here to watch. Their eyes
shone with happiness.
The Barrs dined that evening on Ginnys
sandwiches and milk. Everyone was amiable about
80

it, even the spaniel.

Careless about remembering to eatcareless
about checking his plane thoroughly before going
upand Bill was unbelievably careless about his
office! So Vicki discovered on Monday morning.
Vicki had dug out of Bills battered desk and files
an assortment of objects which one had to see to
believe. She had begun this rainy Monday morning
in a spirit of lets-help-our-friendsalso with a hope
of clear weather and a flight lesson later in the day.
But by now Vicki was filthy, outraged, and she
yelled Bill! at the top of her voice.
He appeared resentfully in the doorway. Now
what?
Look at the condition of your portable
typewriter! Vicki moistened the tip of her finger
and printed UGH in the thick dust of its cover.
Its busted, Bill shrugged her off. Not worth
repairin.
Ill bet you never even bothered repairing it.
Had it fixed three times, smarty. It collapsed of
old age. Here, give it to me. I always meant to get
rid of that old wreck. He snatched the remains of
the typewriter from under Vickis smudged nose but
she protested:
Look at this pile of unanswered letters!
Well, Dwight answered some. Anyhow, how can
81

I stop and write letters, especially with no

typewriter?
Ill lend you mine. Its an old one and Ill be
around in person from time to time to dust it. Now,
how about these unpaid bills?
I paid em. Look in my checkbook. He pulled
her hair gently and tried another tack. The suns
out. Want to fly? Guess I owe you a free lesson for
all this work, pigeon.
And leave this mess in the middle of the floor?
Together they looked at the wreckage in a sort of
awful fascination. Vicki wiped her face and hands
on her spare handkerchiefs and went back to work.
This sniffy attitude of yours Bill started. But
when Vicki looked him squarely in the eye, he had
the grace, for once, to look ashamed and sidled out
the door to the hangar.
Any visions of a soap-and-water clean office and
geraniums blooming in window boxes got
sidetracked in the rubble. Out of the rubble she
unearthed a startling slip of paper. Vicki did not
need any great business training to recognize that
she held a virtual stick of dynamite in her dirty hand.
The paper stated that if William Avery did not meet
the interest payment on his mortgage by three
oclock today the airport mortgage would be
foreclosed. The printed notice came from the
Fairview Building and Loan Association.
82

Vicki felt weak. She sat down on the nearest

thing handy, which turned out to be the floor. To
think that Bill had let this notice get buried and
forgotten! She read it again. In red type on the
bottom were the words: FINAL NOTICE. If Bill did
not make the payment that afternoon, the airport
would be taken away from him.
She revived with a vengeance and rushed out to
the hangar, sputtering. She flapped the notice around
Bills screw driver.
L-l-look! M-m-mortgage!
Im busy fixin this engine. Anyhow, I got a
period of grace.
Three
oclocktodayortheyll
f-fforeclose!
I didnt know you stammered, Bill said loftily.
Vicki recovered her poise. I stammer very
seldom, she announced, and only under stress. I
thought you might like to know that your airport
will be foreclosed tomorrow.
Wha-a-at? Why didnt you say so?
I did say so!
Give me that notice! He grabbed it from her
and pored over it.
Even at that, Vicki had to prod Bill to write out a
check. Oh, yes, he said casually, he had the funds in
the bank. Hed merely forgotten about this little
matter.
83

Harum-scarum, Vicki said between her teeth.

Miss Prissy. Bill waved the check for the ink to
dry. Oh, well, I guess I mean thank you. Now what
next?
Next Ill take the checkmyselfdowntown to
Building and Loan. Drive me home.
See here! No stewardess is goin to give me
orders.
Bill drove her home. At The Castle Vicki took the
fastest shower on record, struggled into clean
clothes, and ran for the bus downtown.
Ginny, still immersed in yesterdays gloom,
called after her. Is anything wrong?
Plenty!
At the Building and Loan offices a secretary told
Vicki that the man she had to see was Mr. Mercer.
He was out to lunch. Vicki waited, watching the
hands of the wall clock move from two to half past.
That deadline was creeping uncomfortably close.
At last Mr. Mercer came in. He was a rather cold
and formidable man. Vicki was surprised to see
Judge English come in just behind him. The men
had been lunching together and had not finished
discussing a proposed loan for Corey Field. The
secretary intervened on Vickis behalf.
How do you do, Miss Barr. Mr. Mercers gray
eyes might as well have been X rays. Come in here,
please indicating a private office.
84

Do you mind if I come in, too? Judge English

smiled at Vicki. Both Vicki and Bill are friends of
my sons and mine, and Im sure you do not keep
any dreadful secrets from me.
Vicki felt relieved that the Judge sat by as she
told Mr. Mercer the facts and handed him Bills
check. Mr. Mercer receipted the notice. However, he
still seemed cold and dissatisfied. Werent Bill and
his field safe now? The Judge cleared his throat.
Then Building and Loan wont take that offer to
buy Avery Airport?
What offer? Vicki exclaimed. Bill doesnt
know anyone is trying to buy his field! Mr. Mercer,
will you please explain this to me?
What else had Bill buried and forgotten in that
desk? Vicki sat very still in the quiet room, her blue
eyes wide open.
Well, Miss Barr, a leading real-estate firm here
in town, acting for a Chicago corporation, has come
to us with a request to sell them Averys airport. I
may say that they offer a large sum, attractive terms,
and are persistent.
Butbut I just brought you the payment! Vicki
gasped.
Yes. If you had not brought this check in today,
before close of bank business at three p.m., we
would probably sell Avery Airport first thing
tomorrow morning.
85

Then its all right now? Isnt it, Mr. Mercer?

If you mean, said the loan officer dryly, that
we will now automatically turn down this very
favorable offer, the answer is no. Building and Loan
exists to make money for its investors. We have that
obligation to our investors who risk their savings.
As for this payment, Miss Barr, there is a loophole.
We really had no right to give Bill Avery an
extension of timetechnically this payment has not
reached us by the legally agreed time.
Vicki looked desperately at Judge English for
help. She surmised that it was he who had suggested
giving Bill an extension of time. The Judge looked
back at Vicki, as troubled as she was.
Mr. Mercer is right, of course, providing he
wants to use a technicality. However, we all think a
great deal of Bill. Business has its human side. Tell
me, John, he turned to Mr. Mercer, who is the
Chicago corporation which is making the offer?
Their name is Land and Sky, Inc. I went
personally to Fairview Real Estate and talked to
Walter about this matter. Believe me, Judge, Im not
eager to put Avery out of business. Neither is
Walter. However, we both represent the business
interests of other people and cannot indulge our
personal sympathies.
Vicki asked nervously, But who is this Land and
Sky, Inc.?
86

Mr. Mercer began with a precise, forbidding

neatness to stack the papers on his desk. Fairview
Real Estate would tell me only that they are acting
in confidence for this client. I came away with the
impression that Walter knows nothing in detail
about this Chicago firm except that their financial
rating is sound and their offer bona fide. Mr.
Mercer evened off the papers edges. Theyah
want to buy up Averys mortgage. I have now told
you the complete story, Miss Barr.
The interview was over. Vicki stood up and
thanked Mr. Mercer. The Judge accompanied her to
the door.
Try not to worry, Vicki, he said. Ill do what I
can for Bill.
When will you know, sir?
Judge English shook his head. Ill try. I cant
promise anything definite, but Ill try.
Vicki went back to Bills airport and reluctantly
told the young man what he had never once
suspected. The bad news depressed him and Bill
wanted to be left alone, she saw. So Vicki took the
bus home, puzzling as she rode. . . .
At home two messages awaited her. She had just
missed a telephone call from Bill. In her mothers
quick handwriting she read: Bill sorry if he wasnt
very polite just now. Says thanks a million. The
other was a telegram. Vicki ripped open the yellow
87

envelope. Report to St. Louis immediately.

Substitute tonight for Charmion Wilson on New
York run. The hour of the planes departure was
given, and the telegram was signed Ruth Benson.
St. Louis to New York! No chance to inquire
about Land and Sky in Chicago very soon! This is
what came of having herself put on a part-time
schedule, assigned as needed. Her boss, Ruth
Benson, had approved this flexible schedule in order
to facilitate Vickis taking flight lessons. Still, it was
disappointing to get an assignment at this particular
time.
Vicki packed her overnight bag, while her mother
and Ginny waited for her in the car. Just as she
finished, Judge English telephoned.
Vicki? Glad I located you. I have just been
talking to Walter Davitt at Fairview Real Estate. Mr.
Davitt doesnt really know who this Land and Sky
outfit is.
But, Judge! Someone must have gotten in touch
with Mr. Davitt on Land and Skys behalf. Who did
that? Wasnt it an officer of Land and Sky?
Apparently not, Vicki. A man did come to
Fairview to see Mr. Davitt, but he seemed to be an
attorney or an agent or some other representative.
His name was Gerald Hood.
She would remember that name. Judge, dont
you think all this secrecy oror indirectness is
88

odd?
Ahhhno. Deals are often introduced and
prepared by representatives. Then later the
principals step in.
I see. Vicki was still not satisfied. Well, thank
you very much indeed, sir.
Then Vicki marched off to the family car, and
was driven to St. Louis for the St. Louis-New York
run.
It was a singularly dull assignment. Vicki had the
night ran, and her only interesting problem was how
to keep herself awake in the darkened plane while
her passengers slept.
When she arrived at the New York apartment not
a single one of her fellow stewardesses was at
homeall were out on flights. Vicki gazed forlornly
at the empty beds. Mrs. Duff, their roly-poly
housekeeper, made pop-overs to console Vicki, but
it was no fun eating them without the other girls.
Dean, newspaperman Pete Carmody, nobody at all
was around. New York was beginning to fill up with
summer visitorsthe regulars were away. Vicki was
lonesome. She flew several Federal flights between
New York and Washington, pinch-hitting on the
vacation schedule. Every glorious June day she
longed to be back in Fairview, doing her own flying
in Bills two-seater plane. That is, if Land and Sky
had not already put Bill out of business. Poor Bill!
89

When she did return to Fairview, her first act was

to telephone Bill Avery. Freddie answered the phone
and announced that Bill was flying. Vicki hesitated,
then called Judge English.
You did right to telephone me, he reassured
Vicki. There is fair news. I have managed to
persuade Building and Loan, this past week, to
forget all about this attempt to buy young Averys
airfield. Butbut tell Bill he had better be careful,
will you?

90

CHAPTER VII

Orchids and Trouble

The ill feeling at Avery Airport started when Spin

Voight accepted Bills offer of a job. Vicki returned
to Bills airfield the same morning that the mechanic
arrived with his tools. They were not pleased to see
each other.
Bill was overjoyed to see Spin. He came running
out of the office, shouting, Hey, Spin! Good boy!
with just a grin in passing for Vicki. She didnt
mind. She knew how much Bill missed his friend
Dwight; it was a good thing another young man was
here to help out.
Vicki murmured politely, What does Mr. Corey
think of Bills stealing his prize A&E man?
I dont owe Big-shot Corey nothin. I helped
Corey out at the very beginnin when he needed help
bad. Spin addressed Bill exclusively. But now that
hes got all those supervisors Im sick and tired of
bein bossed and spied on. You said youll let me
alone. Thats for me. Its even worth takin a smaller
91

salary for. Anyhow, Corey has plenty of mechanics

by now.
Bill turned to Vicki, to include her in the talk. I
dont imagine Mr. Corey likes to lose Spin, but I
dont think Mr. Corey is mad at me, either.
Yesterday I saw him for a minute and he kidded me
about lurin Spin away, and said what did I have
that he hasnt got?
Spin was examining Vicki, with an insolent stare,
from head to foot. She work here?
Sort of. Vickis helpin me out.
Oh, your girl friend, hey?
Bill colored and Vicki felt her face burning.
Were friends, sure, also Vics takin flight lessons
from me. An old friend of mine, Dean Fletcher, a
pilot, sent her to me. Bill smiled at Vicki, silently
welcoming her back.
Well, Id sure like to see a dame on an airfield
thats any use to anybody.
Vickis not exactly the dame type, Bill said, but
he shared a long-suffering look with Spin Voight.
Vicki gulped, swallowing her pride. Ive been
useful around this airfield. Havent I, Bill?
What? Oh, sure, you dusted my office. Look,
DwightSpin, I meanwould you rather look at
the radial engine tomorrow? I dont want to hurry
you or butt in
Dusted his office! She had done a great deal more
92

than maid service! Vicki began to think she didnt

like Bill Avery too much after all. Look at him,
kowtowing to that prima donna of a mechanic!
Spin moved quietly enough into the hangar and in
his silent way settled in. Little Freddie hung around,
admiring, but at a cautious distance. Vicki asked Bill
privatelyand a little sarcasticallywhether all
mechanics were so temperamental.
I already told you, pigeon. Hes a crazy neargenius. Say, do you mind takin your lesson
tomorrow instead of today? I got to show Spin the
place. You could go through your ground studies
and CAA manual.
Vicki said it was all right but she didnt mean it.
The next day started off more propitiously. Vicki
was glad to see the person who drove into the field.
He was Malcolm MacDonald, the CAA inspector.
Assisted by Vicki, Bill was loading the cabin of the
cargo plane with several boxes of Dwight Muellers
orchids. The tall, thin man climbed out of his coupe
and silently looked over their plane and the pile of
boxes they were loading.
This the DC-3 you had checked at Corey Field,
Avery?
Yes, sir.
MacDonald had a slow, dry smile. Dont forget
to check it yourself, Bill. I hope your helper is more
careful than you are.
93

Uhyes, sir. This is Miss Barr, Vicki Barr.

Shell be takin a privates exam from you in a few
weeks.
MacDonald nodded at Vicki and she felt his
conscientious strictness to be reassuring. You could
never get chummy with him but he was a friendas
incorruptible as a rocksomeone to rely on, like the
Judge. Aside from asking Bill some technical
questions, the CAA inspector was as tongue-tied as
most other airmen. Vicki wanted to know what this
well-informed man thought about Land and Sky,
Inc.
Ive never heard of them, Miss Barr. Who are
they?
Thats what nobody in town seems to know, Mr.
MacDonald.
His sunburned forehead wrinkled. Well, you can
easily look them up in a Chicago directory, or in the
Dun and Bradstreet business rating book. Or maybe
Mr. Corey could tell you. He has a wide business
acquaintance. He seemed unconcerned and entirely
aloof.
Bill shrugged, so Vicki let the subject drop. Yes,
she would look them up in Chicago. There was
another question she wanted to ask the CAA man.
Shed been reluctant to ask Billhed think she was
just flaunting her efficiencybut she felt sure that
MacDonald would give an intelligent, impartial
94

answer.
Iahwonder if we couldnt pack the orchids
in a different way? Bill shot a miffed look at her
but Vicki demurely lowered her eyes. She hadnt
nursed these orchids in cool water and niter for
nothing. Late yesterday afternoon Dwight Mueller
had told her, when delivering this truckload of
tissue-paper-wrapped blooms, how to take care of
orchids before and during flight to the city market.
And what a lot of care it involved! Sufficient air,
coolness, darkness. Vicki loved handling these
fragile and exquisite living things. Bill was too
rough with them. Dwight had tied some of the
orchids into cartons for shipment but Vicki figured
out a way to repack them safely into smaller boxes.
That way, she continued, directing her question
to the CAA man, wouldnt we have room left for
another part payload? Maybe Bill could put a couple
of seats back in and take a passenger or two up to
Chicago with him? She hoped that in her eagerness
to help she was not being tactless or bossy.
I think Miss Barr is right. Why not at least try
it?
Aw, its gettin late. Have to get upstairs.
You shouldnt leave your packing until the last
moment, Mr. MacDonald commented. Bill glanced
at Vicki and flushed.
Uhjust in case it works, BillI ought to tell
95

you this. I answered the office phone this morning,

and a farmer and his wife want to know if you can
fly them to Chicago and back some day this week.
They have to get home in time to feed the
livestock. Vicki added defiantly, I said youd let
them know.
Bill looked from Vicki to the orchids in the open
plane door. He rubbed his cheek. Thats not bad for
a fancy airlines hostess. Darned if I ever met a Miss
Fuss-budget exactly like you before.
Mr. MacDonald laughed. Id say youre lucky to
have her on the job. Youre really interested in
building up this field, arent you, Miss Barr? It has
good possibilitiesif its owner would stop flying
mainly for sport.
Then, somehow, the three of them were laughing
together, Bill at himself. Mr. MacDonald
encouraged Bill, pointed out that since he had no
elaborate facilities like Corey Field, incurring high
overhead costs, Bills services could be lowerpriced. That could mean a lot of customers for
Avery Airport, and the CAA man moved off to
inspect Billsor Spinshangar. He wanted to
talk to Spin, tooone of Spins rare visitors.
Spin was alone most of the time, except for
Freddie. As they repacked the orchids according to
Vickis plan, she could see Spins tar-black hair and
wiry figure in blue coveralls bobbing around the
96

planes in the hangar. Freddie followed him around

as if he were Superman. The A&E mechanic was
pleasant to the little boy, and that was the one nice
thing Vicki knew about him. But Spin always
behaved better when Bill was around.
Bill was busy for several days running, on a
distant part of his big field, tuning up his dearly
beloved old PB-19 for an aerial survey job which
Mr. Corey had sent him. Vicki had to hunt him up
and tear him away.
Flying lesson, remember? How could you
forget?
Her work in the air was improving slowly. With
two weeks free, Vicki was taking a half-hour lesson
daily, missing one the day Spin came and missing
another on a busy Saturday. Intensive but worth it.
She was lucky; no all-day rains. Bill was willing to
teach her on busy Sundays, provided she arrived
before the crowd did. In fact, Bill pushed her along,
stressing landings and take-offs. The manuals did
not tell a beginner so, but take-offs were the most
dangerous part of flying. It was at the take-off,
before the rising plane had gained sufficient speed
and altitude, when it couldnt go on and hadnt the
power to turn back and land, that Bill warned Vicki
to be watchful.
Her take-offs were smooth, but she had difficulty
in landing. She would glide the ship down, hovering
97

a few yards above the airstrip, and freeze with

nervousness at the stick and pedals. She just didnt
dare set that plane downthe earth rose up too fast
to meet it. She could feel Bills quick pull on his set
of the controls, and hed say calmly, Youre tryin
too hard. Lets go up again, circle around the traffic
pattern, and see if you cant bring her down this
time. But she just couldnt do it. Itll come to
you, Bill assured her after landing the plane
himself. All of a sudden, like that, snapping his
fingers.
Vicki earnestly hoped he was right and not
merely encouraging her. Practice, practice,
practice, Bill said as he signed for each lessons
thirty or thirty-five minutes flying time in her
logbook. Hey, look! Before you go off to Chicago
again, youll have logged twelve lessons all told
six hours. Eight was the minimum required to solo.
Most students were ready, if not willing, to take the
plane up alone at between eight and ten hours. Vicki
was dying to solo and pleasurably scared at the
prospect.
Vicki did not mention the word soloing to
Professor Barr. Her father remained largely
unreconciled to her flight lessons. He assumed that
Vicki always flew with the flight instructor, and if
she had any sense, always would.
From the time she signed up for flying lessons,
98

the Barrs saw little of Vicki. Have I a daughter or

havent I? her father complained. Now Ginny
disappears, too! Ginny wanted so badly to have a
place on the airfield that she had helped Vicki clean
up Bills office and pack orchids twice a week.
Vickis mother suggested that it would be politic to
stay at home at least in the evenings. So, except for
dates with Guy English and sometimes Dickie
Brown, Vicki was at The Castle these warm
evenings.
One evening Bill turned up. This was in response
to Mr. Barrs demand to meet the young daredevil
to whom my daughter entrusts her life. Vicki,
fingers crossed, ushered in Bill, wearing sports shirt
and slacks, his flight cap in hand, to introduce him
to her dignified father and her smiling mother. In her
own living room Bill looked rough and handsome
and too large for the chair he sat on. When Professor
Barr quizzed him, Bill answered pleasantly but
beamed at Betty Barr; he and Vickis mother liked
each other on sight. Lewis Barr kept insisting on
questions and answers200 flying hours in my
logbook, and exams, sir, before I got my instructors
rating. Yes, sir, turf fields are not only safe but nice
for landings. Besides, theyre cheap and pay their
own way. Business economics brought the two
men a little closer. Well, sir, an oil company did
give me a loan in exchange for sellin their gas and
99

oil.
Mmmm. Youre not so wild, after all, Lewis
Barr said grudgingly. But wild enough.
Afterward, as Vicki and Ginny showed him the
shadowy garden, Bill wiped his face. Whew! Vicki,
that was a worse ordeal than when I went into a
tailspin to get out of a storm in the clouds. Hope my
answers satisfied your dad. You know, I do my desk
work at night. And I told Spin Id be back by ten.
The next day at the airfield, as usual, Spin kept
silently to himself and to the hangar. Vicki avoided
him, since he was so hostile to her. No need to invite
trouble.
Spin isnt so bad, Ginny insisted as she brought
out two cushions for Vicki, one to sit on and one to
put behind her in the Cub. He plays a lot with
Freddie. The small boy and Ginny were by now
firm friends.
Ginny was right. Vicki could see, as she walked
toward the hangar, Freddie poking around in Spins
tool chest and wearing one of Spins long-billed
cotton caps. Spins face, as he watched Freddie, was
coldly amused.
Good morning, Spin, Vicki said. Bill says
would you please taxi the Cub out to the flight
line?
Spin gave her a surly look. Why cant you taxi
it? Youre a pilot these days, aint you?
100

Not yet. Vicki refused to quarrel with him.

Lets see, which way is that windsock blowing?
South by southwest, Freddie piped up. Spin
heard. His eyes glistened as he dragged the Cub
outside. Gee, me and Ginny know more bout
flyin than you, the little boy added.
That remark gave Vicki an idea. Anyone who
cared as much as Ginny did about flying deserved
help. Her food service had failed, helping to clean
up the office was nearly overGinny must be
desperate for a real place at the airfield. Lets see,
what could Ginnyand Cookiedo for the cause of
aviation?
She found that her sister and Cookie Fairchild,
slightly smaller but just as excited, had climbed into
the Cub. Vicki tried to be stern.
Do you plan to solo?
Ginny unwillingly crawled out of the cabin.
Well, I wish I was going to solo.
Hmm. How about you, Cookie? Ginnys
partner in fudge making and hiking back and forth to
school merely grinned as she hopped out of the
plane. How would you like a real job? How would
you like to go out on your bikes and hunt big flat
roofs on warehouses and barns that arent too steep?
Then, if you get the owners permission, you girls
could go out with paints and brushes and letter
101

stencilsthe CAA furnishes emand paint air

markers pointing to Avery Airport. Thats a real
CAA job. Youre not too young.
A CAA job for us? Cookie muttered.
Will Bill pay us? Ginny wanted to know.
Vicki promised to try to coax an O.K. from Bill,
and maybe two modest salary checks.
Bill came out with Vickis logbook and an
advanced manual, to start todays lesson. He was
very much in favor of two able-bodied would-be
fliers painting signs on roofs over the countryside.
Take a compass and be sure to paint the arrows in
the right direction. If theres no room to paint Avery
Airport, A.A. will do. Ill compensate the farmers
and warehouse owners who let you paint on their
flat roofs. Be sure to cover all four directions. Say,
its a real good thing for the field.
Will you pay us? Ginny demanded.
Sure I will. Cant pay much, or Ill give you free
plane rides, if you get your parents consent.
Whee! Ginny and Cookie shook hands with
each other so vigorously that they nearly toppled
into the grass. May Betty Kramer help paint, too?
And maybe Jo-Ann Chesley? This is a big job.
Two more enthusiasts? Vicki murmured. She
began to have another idea.
Yep. And, Bill, you know what? Ginny hung
on his arm. If I were you, Id paintNo Tie-Down
102

Fee. You have such lots and lots of land here, you
could afford itthink of the millions of private
pilots whod come and buy gas!
And maybe buy sandwiches, said Cookie
stubbornly.
Bill pretended to hold his head. Im overrun by
women, he groaned. All of them with business
brains like sharks! Ginny, youre doggone right. The
word would get around fast about no tie-down fee
fliers are here today, in San Anton tomorrow.
Thats every fliers pet gripe. This is a new angle
that ought to pack em in!

103

CHAPTER VIII

Code Letter

No one was crowding into Corey Field, though it

was nearing completion, Vicki saw from the air.
Todays lesson required her to fly over Corey Field
and on to a small airport in the next town of
Greensville. The idea was to learn how to land and
take off at a strange airportsomething a flier
flying cross-country must often do.
Vicki was still fairly tense when she piloted the
little ship, but she did fly it alone and unaided now.
Bill ahead of her didnt even have his hand on the
stick. Ridiculous that she, a flight stewardess, had
such an inner struggle to handle a plane. Her hands
and feet behaved but her heart poundedperhaps
that had something to do with her engaging flight
instructor. She had never quite won his approval. Or
not yet. The right wing dipped jerkily. Relax, she
advised herself.
Relax, Bill shouted over his shoulder. Take
your hand off the stickthe planell fly itself. Let
104

go! Sit backlook down.

Vicki obeyed doubtfully. Looking out the plane
window from fifteen hundred feet, the farmlands
below formed a pattern of varied green-colored
rectangles, like a patchwork quilt. Vicki picked out
the soft misty green of alfalfa, green-striped
cornfields in rows against brown earth and golden
patches of early June wheat. The dark blurs of green
were trees, and the river a glinting, winding thread.
Her tension melted.
See how easy it is? Bill had turned around and
was grinning at her. Easy does it. Where are we?
Vicki looked for landmarks but had no idea
where they were. She was utterly lost in the sky.
Never mind, Ill teach you to read air maps, or
charts as we call em. Now take the controls, Vicki.
Greensville airport is to your right. Approach for a
landing. Find the traffic pattern? Got it? Thats it
thats good
Traffic patterns were one of Vickis minor
struggles. She located the fluttering windsock and
wind direction, then located bushel baskets, painted
glaring white, which served as runway markers.
From these things she imagined a long rectangle
over this crude, grassy airfield. This aerial rectangle
was the one-way street for planes. Then she
steered the light plane at eight hundred feet into the
rectangle, flew the long leg, turned left on the first
105

cross-wind leg, flew two-thirds of the way down the

other long leg, and establishing a smooth glide,
made her final turn for her approach, her engine
idling.
But the wind was against her, and Vicki still had
trouble landing into cross wind. She opened the
throttle, went up again, circled, then came in a little
lower. There, that felt better! Vicki landed so
bumpily that Bills head wobbled. But she did land
her craft and taxied through the high grass to a stop.
The Wright Brothers would be proud of you,
said Bill, rubbing his neck. Lets get out and say
hello.
The owner of Greensville airport was George
Brown, a stocky man with a leathery, wind-burned
face. He wore a leather jacket. He was standing with
a few other people watching a plane, very high up,
roll over and fly on its back.
Thats Johnny Burke, the owner greeted Bill.
One of the Air Forces jet aces. He just got back
home yesterday and he came right out here. How
that boy can fly!
Vicki, watching with her head thrust back,
brushed against someone. It was Andrew Corey. She
murmured an apology, but he was too busy watching
the air ace to see or hear her. Just as well, Vicki
thought. A moment later she was glad to see him
shake hands with Bill.
106

How are you, young man? I hear youre doing a

nice job of that aerial survey. Sometimes I think you
have more fun with your small operations than I do
with my big onesyoure really in touch, hey? Bill
asked some questions. Oh, Trans-America Airlines
wont land their DC-4s at my field for some time
yet. Were not quite ready for them. Yes, I admit I
find the Trans-America contract a big thrill.
Mr. Corey glanced at Vicki and nodded, as he
moved off to speak to some other people. She saw
his private plane and his pilot waiting for him.
They talked to George Brown, the Greensville
airport owner, for a couple of minutes. He was a
rather simple man and loud in Coreys praise. Mr.
Corey had just done him a favorand had certainly,
Vicki thought, earned himself a friend here, in this
old-time flier. Well, Mr. Corey was exceptionally
generous and public-spirited, she had to admit.
A few minutes later Vicki took off again, rising
swiftly off the runway into the wind. She climbed to
five hundred feet, and figuring under her breath,
turned left ninety degrees. On the cross-wind leg of
the traffic pattern she leveled off nice and easy.
Then she turned left forty-five degrees, and at the
end of the down-wind leg she left the pattern. There!
She did it exactly right this time! It wasnt a bit
hard, at all. She was getting the hang of flying.
Vicki discovered, a few mornings later, that she
107

had a great deal more to worry about than her

lessons. Ginny, carrying Vickis logbook, came out
of the hangar looking very troubled. Ordinarily
everybodys logbooks were left on an open shelf in
the combination office and waiting room. They
contained irreplaceable official records of flying
time, and it was understood that no one was ever to
touch a logbook except the owner and his or her
instructor. No one honorable would think of
touching them.
Whats my logbook doing in the hangar? Vicki
asked frantically. Im so careful of it. Im sure I
didnt leave it there.
Freddie was playing with it, and I
Oh, Freddie! Then its all right.
No, it isnt all right, Vic. Ginny looked as if she
might cry.
Why, baby, what are you so terribly upset
about? A young child like Freddie couldnt have
done
Look at this, will you!
Vicki took the logbook, opened it, and her hands
began to tremble. On the first page, which recorded
her first six lessons, Freddie had printed in pencil in
large, ragged letters:
FREDD FREDDIE F.S. MAMA BILL NO SMOKIG
NO SMOKING FREDIE STREETER ABCDEEEFG

108

He likes the letter E, Vicki observed bitterly.

And he likes to copy the No Smoking sign. Look
at the finger marksgrease!
Look at the next couple of pages, Ginny said
very low, and Vicki saw fear in her sisters face.
Vicki turned to where this weeks lessons and flying
time were recorded. This smeared page read:
FREDDIE MAMA SPIN SPIN NO SMOK SPIN

He had also attempted drawings of airplanes. Go

on, said Ginny. On a page blank of her own records
Vicki found, crude but clear:
YENOM EROME SUDLU OCGNI YRTPE EKLLI
WYAWE HTNIS ILRIG NOOSE CNAHC ONCXX

But what is it? Vicki said in astonishment.

Something Freddie copied, Ginny muttered.
Yes, probably, butbut He must have copied
it incorrectly.
I dont know but well soon see. I have the
original. Come around the side of the officeout of
sight. They walked around the corner of the shack.
Ginny handed Vicki a crumpled wad of paper.
Here. I found this.
Vicki smoothed out the paper. It was ordinary,
109

lined notebook paper and typed on it was the same

meaningless jumble which Freddie had completely
copied. Vicki checked it very carefully and saw that
the little boy had made only one error: the last word
was ONXXX. She turned over the paper. There were
a few figures and mathematical symbolsfiguring
winds, speeds, wing stress. Nothing unusual. Not a
finger mark except Freddies small smudges. The
edges of the paper were torn and one spot was
charred.
I found it, Ginny explained, near the wiremesh trash basket which Spin set afire. This must
have blown awayblown through those big open
meshes when Spin had the propellers turned on for
testing. That makes quite a suction.
Ginny, do you think this is a message?
It seems to be a letter in code.
Could it be a technical codeair termssome
sort of mathematical shorthand? Maybe Spin was
figuring wind and speed and
You believe Spin wrote it, then.
Who else was around this morning? While Bill
and I were gone
Ginny stopped to recollect. Dwight Mueller
drove over with a truckload of orchids. But you
know Dwight doesnt think Spins so wonderful. He
didnt even come near the hangar. Lets see. The
mailman was here. A man came to reserve the Cub
110

for a flying lesson. Ruth Streeter came over for a

while, too.
I dont honestly think any of those people wrote
thisthis note or equation or whatever it is, Vicki
said slowly. But its crazy and weird enough to be
Spins doing.
Should she show it to Bill? If she did, then what?
Bill would forthrightly talk to Spin about itit
would come out that the note had come into Vickis
possession and Spin probably would resent that.
Hed say she was a prying female, and worse,
hed convince Bill of that, too. Absent-mindedly
Vicki folded the paper and stuffed it into her deep
slacks pocket. If the note turned out to mean nothing
unusual, she would appear unduly suspicious
unfair to Spin. No, it was more tactful to keep quiet.
But Vicki did wish that Spin had not come inbetween Bill and herself, even to this small extent.
Should she say anything to Spin? After all, he
must have seen Freddie playing with her logbook.
Spin could have taken it away from the child and
given him something less valuable for drawing
paper. Still, he may not have seen Freddie . . .
Gently she took Freddie aside and told the little
boy it wasnt a very good idea to draw pictures in
other peoples logbooks.
But Spin said, Heres a book to draw in,
Freddie said, puzzled. He said, can youI mean,
111

can Iprint my name and I showed him I could

print it and his name, too. I even, the child finished
proudly, could copy that sign that says no smokin.
Didja see it?
Its very good printing, dear.
Its copyin, Freddie corrected her. I copied a
long, long thing, too. Took me the whole mornin
and three whole pencils.
Nope, I dont think so. I was sittin on the floor
behind the big trash basket and Spin was workin
way up high somewheres on a ladder, and when I
said, Hey, come look! he only said, Shut up. That
wasnt nice, was it? So just for that, I didnt show
him my good copyin.
No, it wasnt very nice. Spin was mean to make
use of a child. Hed played a mean joke to take her
logbook. Freddie, I tell you what. Next time you
want to print or draw, youll find lots of blank paper
on Bills desk. Now lets forget about logbooks and
not talk about this any more. Not to anyone.
Okay, Vicki. Shake hands on it?
Absolutely. She shook Freddies grimy little
hand and reassured him by giving him a stick of
chewing gum.
Later that day Spin came into the office. As usual,
he was neat in his long-sleeved blue coveralls, and
coldly self-possessed. When Spin saw Vicki
scrubbing with an eraser at her logbook he laughed.
112

Lookit our stewardess with her own logbook! Say,

Freddie played a good joke on you!
Vicki pressed her lips tightly together. She would
not fight with him. Let him provoke her. Let him try
and try. She refused to get upset as Spin wanted her
to. Im not intimidated that easily, Mr. Spin, Vicki
silently said as she continued erasing. Finally she
had cleaned up the logbook as best she could and
put it back on the shelf. She didnt think Spin would
dare touch it again.
Presently Bill tore in and asked Vicki to write a
letter to a supply house, and order certain tools and
aircraft parts. Heres the list, he said, tossing it to
her. Spin says we need the stuff in a hurry, so tell
em to rush our order. Thanks, beautiful.
Vicki studied the list. It included some of the
same symbols she had found on the back of the code
letter. It was written on the same lined notebook
paper as that of the code letter. So Spin had almost
certainly written that curious code. Except for this
circumstance, the note was typed and Vicki had seen
no typewriterexcept her own, on loan to Billin
the hangar nor anywhere on the field. This list had
definitely not been typed on her own typewriter.
Bills dilapidated portable had been thrown out.
Did Spin have a typewriter of his own
somewhere? Vicki knew he roomed at a
boardinghouse downtown. But Spin would scarcely
113

be the kind of person to own, or even borrow, a

typewriter. Now it looked possible to Vicki that
someone other than Spin had typed the code letter.
Had someone sent it to Spin? Who would that be? A
jokester? Ormore likelyhad one of the fields
many visitors happened to bring it here, days ago,
and finally today it had landed in the trash basket. In
the meantime, Spin could easily have picked up this
scrap of paper for figuring what supplies they
needed. As for both note and list being on the same
lined paper, lots of persons used that same
inexpensive paper. I use it myself, for that matter.
With Bill out of the office, Vicki took the
crumpled note out of her pocket and tried to
decipher it. YENOM EROME SUDLU OCGNI YRTPE
EKLLI WYAWE HTNIS ILRIG NOOSE CNAHC ONXXX.
She read it over and over, she read it backward.
Suddenly Vicki saw that the first word yenom was
moneyif she were reading correctly. But no
other backward-spelled word emerged. She read the
note vertically instead of on horizontal lines but that
effort yielded no meaning. Shed have to analyze it
minutely. There must be a key or a rule!
Ginny was calling her. Vicki shook her silveryblond head, pushed the wad of paper deep into her
slacks pocket, and put it out of her mindfor the
time being.
114

CHAPTER IX

The Tattoo

Ready! All aboard! Leaving on track one for

Chicago! Bill sang out. He gave Vicki a boost and
she clambered into the cargo plane. Hey, Spin, rev
the propellers, will you? Golly, Vic, what a beautiful
mornin! Youre in luck so far as the weather goes.
Ginny and Cookie and Jo-Ann Chesley, three
little maids in a row, watched wistfully, wishing for
a ride. The payload was light today, so Bill had
invited Vicki along for the flight to Chicago and
back.
Luck, nothing, she scoffed, tying a silk
bandanna around her bright, blowing hair. Who
figured out a better way to package the orchids?
Who arranged the farm couples trip and return last
week? Thats why theres room for me today.
William! Did you check this plane?
Will you stop nagging at me, madam? If it was
anybody but you, Id be sore. I just looked at the
magnetos and did a line check, didnt you see me?
115

My dear old DC-3 was thoroughly checked just last

night.
Bill made a face at her. He pulled himself up into
the big craft as Spin whirled the propellers. Spin
backed off a bit and Bill turned on the left engine,
then the right engine; the ship started to vibrate.
Spin and the three young girls, their hair and
garments whipping in the wind the props stirred up,
backed cautiously off the runways. Bill held the
noisy, straining plane in one spot as the oil warmed
through and the motors accumulated power. Then
they taxied a long way down the field, turned
around, and taxied back. Vicki did not even feel
their wheels leave the ground.
Oh, what a beau-ti-ful mornin, Bill sang. The
cabin was full of sun.
What did you taxi such a long distance for?
Vicki asked in his ear.
Nothing. Just felt like it. Youre the pestiest
Why dont you sit down and enjoy yourself? I left
one seat in for you.
This plane was not riding right. Vicki could feel
an offbeat, a vibration thatwell, just pulled against
the main, soaring rhythm of the ship. If Bill felt it,
he was not going to admit it.
You just never rode in my DC-3 before, Vicki,
he shouted over the two roaring engines. You dont
know how fast I got this old crate tuned up.
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But now she could hear a whining note from

somewhere in the motors to her left. As if the plane
were almost alive, and in pain.
Bill, do you hear that whine?
Aw, Susie here always complains when we take
off and climb. Shes lazy. You know planes have
different personalities, like cars or people. I had a
Cessna once that couldnt wait to go. She almost
slipped out from under you. But Susie
Listen! Vicki thumped him on the arm in real
alarm. Dont you hear and feel that knock?
The long dimple in Bills cheek faded. He flew
on in silence for one or two minutes, his narrowed
eyes checking over the dashboard instruments. The
whine rose to a shriller note and the whole, big,
heavy plane began to shiver. Vicki felt sick with
apprehension.
Well turn back. Bills lips were a tight line.
Vicki hoped theyd be able to turn back. Bill said
loudly, Im annoyedbut not alarmed, you
understand? That was said only for her benefit. He
swung the protesting plane around on a steep angle.
In the distance they could see Avery Airport.
Vicki sat quietly. This was the first time she had
ever been badly frightened in the air. She tried to tell
herself that the planes whine and strange shiver
were nothingmechanical failures were always part
of ones advance calculations. But this risk was so
117

unnecessary! Bill should have checked the plane

himself. Not leave it chiefly to Spin.
With difficulty Bill eased the plane home into his
own traffic pattern, cut the throttle, and tried to glide
down. But Vicki knew enough about piloting by
now to know that he was using every trick in his
experience to achieve this landing. The vibration
grew violent as they came down. They touched
ground and rolled to a stop. Vicki was vaguely
aware that Bill wiped his sweating hands and face,
then just sat there. She leaned back in the seat and
drew a long, shaken breath.
Spin came running. Right after him came Ginny
with her two friends. Vicki waved to Ginny that she
was all right, and focused her attention on Spin. The
mechanic had gone dead white. He was terribly
upset.
For the next half hour Spin and Bill checked over
the DC-3. Vicki stayed right with the two young
men. They hardly spoke, except for grunts and
questions. Here? . . . No. . . . The coil? . . . No.
The mechanic was painfully concerned over the
cause of this near accident. He turned nervously on
Vicki, glancing at her indignant face.
I didnt make this mistake, miss, Spin said. She
had never seen him this respectful. I dont make
mistakes.
Do you mean I made this mistake? Bills dark118

blue eyes flashed.

No. Did we try the oil sump?
The two of them peered and poked. Spin fished
out tiny bits of scrap metal from the oil sump. He
whistled and held the pieces out to Bill in an
appalled way. I bet this happened at Corey Field.
Some of the guys who did the three-thousand
checkup on this plane aint so first rate. Some
mechanic over there forgot to remove this stuff.
Vicki said, But, Bill, youve taken this plane up
safely, several times, since it came back from its
overhaul.
Spin glared at her. Things dont always show up
and make trouble right away. Them pieces of metal
were in another part and got shaken down and
accumulated in the oil sump. I swear, Bill, only last
night in the hangar she was runnin sweet. You saw
it yourself.
Yeah, I saw. But that was just turnin the
engines over, on the ground. WellBill sighed
it only proves that you have to check thoroughly
every time. Beats me, though. Somebody was
careless. Maybe me. He grinned shamefacedly at
Vicki. Guess Im too cocksure.
May I see those little pieces of metal? Vicki
picked up a few of them in a piece of waste material.
Unobtrusively she shoved these in her pocket.
They went off, leaving Spin, who was still
119

shaken, to finish work on the DC-3. When Vicki

asked whether Spin hadnt found the cause of the
trouble with remarkable speed, Bill was nettled.
Spin was turning Bill against Vicki and souring his
usual good nature.
Sure Spin found the pieces of metal fast! That
proves he really knows his job. Are you insinuatin
something about Spin? See here, Vicki, this was an
honest-to-gosh mistake, due to somebodys sloppy
work, and that lets out Spin. For all I know, I could
have let that dirt and scrap get into the sump
myself.
Only, chances are you didnt. And Spin knew
exactly where to look
Vicki, will you please stop worryin about stuff
you dont understand? Be fair. You dont know
enough about plane mechanisms to talk about it.
So that was that! They walked the rest of the way
back to the office without talking. Probably Bill was
right. Accidents did occur occasionally because of
carelessness. If Bill had really checked the plane
before going upa matter requiring five minutes or
lessthe planes whine and shiver could have been
detected on the ground. You couldnt really blame
Spin for Bills negligence.
Darn it, Bill muttered over her head. This
means more expense and a delay in deliverin
Dwights orchids.
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Bill was obliged to telephone Dwight and tell him

of the near accident. Dwight Mueller drove over
within the hour, extremely annoyed. Vicki was in
the office but she couldnt help hearing Dwight and
Bill in the road. Their voices rose as they came close
to a quarrel. Even in anger, Dwight was quiet and
firm. Vicki heard him say:
Either you take better care of my cargo, Bill, or
youll force me to transfer my business elsewhere. I
cant afford delays and rough treatment with a cargo
of perishable orchids.
Aw, youre insured. But okay. Ill watch it.
Insurance doesnt mend my reputation for
sending flowers to market lateand withered at
that.
Vicki wished she could tell Dwight how much
Bill missed him. She would be sorry to see their
friendship strained, or Bills business imperiled, as it
would be if Dwight withdrew Bills one vital cargo
job. Of course it was Bills fault but even so
Vicki smiled ruefully to herself. I certainly am
on Bills side, dirty face or cocksure or not. Hes
such a fine boy, basicallyhe just has too much for
one person to do!
The near accident had another and curious result.
Except for this Vicki might never have made the
discovery.
For the first time Spin shed his aloof, indifferent
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air and rolled up his sleeves and slaved all afternoon

over the DC-3. It was as if the failure of the DC-3
were a blow to him personallyto his pride in his
work or his reputation, and Vicki ventured in to
speak to him.
Spin scrutinized her in alarm. Youre all right,
aint you? You got a shakin up this mornin but
youre okay, huh?
Oh, Im fine. Dont brood over it, Spin. Once I
had to turn back even with as conservative a pilot as
Dean Fletcher.
Dean Fletcher! Yeah. Avery did say Fletcher
sent you here. The mechanic hastily rolled down
his coverall sleeves. But not fast enough. Vicki saw
the blur on his right forearm and the guarded
expression on his face. Well, as long as youre
okay, why dont you run along now?
Vicki was so excited she could hardly swallow or
speak. Come on, dont be so unfriendly, Spin,
Vicki said in a coaxing voice. Show me your
tattoo.
What tattoo! he shouted. I havent got any
tattoo!
Vicki was dismayedbits of Deans frightening
story flashed back to herbut she kept to her light,
teasing tone. She even managed a friendly smile.
Why, I saw it just now. Come on, Spin. Let me see
it.
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Youre crazy! You didnt see nothin!

Vicki teased and coaxed and insisted. Maybe he
was merely temperamental, as Bill said, but she
wasnt giving up so soon. She called Freddie! and
a small, mussed-up figure crawled out of the DC-3
cabin, rubbing his eyes and yawning.
Want to see Spins tattoo? Vicki asked, as if all
this were a joke on Spin.
Whats a tattoo? the child asked. Vicki
explained briefly. Spin moved uncertainly toward
the hangars open wall. Oh, that funny old picture
on his arm. I saw it lots of times.
All right, you win, Spin said with suppressed
fury. As he rolled up his right sleeve he assumed a
joking tone, too. Why are all you dames so full of
curiosity? Didnt you ever see a tattoo before? Here,
take a good look, Miss Nosy. You seen dozens like
this one.
So Spin was trying to tell her what to think
dozens like this one. Nothing of the sort! This was
no ordinary, innocent tattoo mark pierced and
burned and colored into his flesh. Vicki had seen
conventional designsthe Statue of Liberty, a pretty
girl, a flag, or initialsbut nothing like this. The
design consisted of a plane and a blood-red dagger
cutting through what looked like a blurred word, the
whole encircled by a green serpent.
The word, in oddly thick black letterspossibly
123

Gothicwas half-effaced so that it was illegible. It

looked as if Spin had had an operation in an attempt
to remove the tattoo, particularly the telltale word or
name. To Vicki it appeared as if it might be the
name of a German city or a date, for it was long.
The information it concealed was not entirely
destroyed.
Vicki said gently, Oh, German lettering, I see.
I never was in Germany! I already told you that
once.
My error. That broken, mutilated tattoo on his
arm! How was she to interpret it? Could even Dean
do that?
Satisfied? Spin squeezed out a smile. See, its
nothin.
Thanks, Spin. Its very interesting.
Okay. You satisfied now? Number one of the
things I hope to see before I diea female without
no curiosity. Youre goin to scram out of here
now?
Going right now. Oh, by the way, whats that
word thats not clear?
Name of an old girl friend of mine. The
mechanics cold eyes flickered. Iuhwas
figurin to marry her but she run off and married
another guy. So I had her name scratched out with
an electric needle.
Vicki shuddered. She did not believe a word of
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his sentimental story. Spin wasnt the sentimental

sort. He certainly had had the unremovable tattoo
partially destroyed, though. Clever of Spin to offer
her an explanation before she had a chance to ask
the question. He was quick as a cat. Abruptly Vicki
wanted to get away from him and the veiled,
unidentifiable expression in his eyes. Something
dark and ugly lay theredeadly
So long, Spin, Freddie, Vicki blurted, and ran
outdoors into the reassuring sunshine. Walking
away, she did not look back.
Vicki headed immediately for Ruth Streeters
cottage. She had to tell Ruth to keep her little boy
away from the mechanic. And she wanted another
look at the photograph album, at the picture of the
flier with the tattoo. Vicki nearly ran down Lincoln
Highway in her anxiety.
Luckily, Ruth was at home. She listened with a
grave face while Vicki said to keep Freddie away
from the mechanic. Not that she could give a
definite reason.
Vicki, Ive done my best to keep Freddie off the
airfield altogether but its impossible. He runs over
there, he loves the planes, and Bill insists hes taught
Freddie always to keep off the runways. As little as
he is, he understands he must keep away from
revolving propellersjust as he mustnt get near a
moving car. Anyway, Ruth said, she and Freddie
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eventually would be going on to San Francisco

where her fellow members in Women Fliers of
America were helping her secure an interesting job
in a control tower. Freddie would start to school
there.
But wherever we are, I wont be able to keep
Freddie away from airfields and planes. Id have no
right to, really.
But, Ruth, Im talking about Spin
What about Spin? My brother has only good to
say of him. Hes pretty nice to Freddieplays with
him, watches out for him.
Vicki saw it was useless. Well, shed said what
she could. She changed the subject and asked for
another look at the photograph album. Ruth
willingly went to the bookshelf for it, but the album
was not there.
Oh, I remember, Ruth said. Bill lent it to Spin.
Spin heard Bill and Dwight talking about the album,
and was awfully interested in seeing the pictures.
Vicki pricked up her ears. Why hadnt she seen
the album anywhere at the airport? Youll get it
back, wont you, Ruth?
Honestly, Vicki, youre a great little worrier.
Certainly Ill get the photo album back! Youre
welcome to have a look at it any time. Whats on
your mind, anyway?
Vicki hesitated. You recall one photo taken in
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Germany, with an AAF boy in it who has a tattoo on

his forearm, dont you? Well, Spin has a tattoo and I
just wanted to check if he was the same boy as in the
photo. Can you remember?
Ruth closed her eyes, concentrating. I know
those pictures almost by heart. It seems to me that
the boy in the picture had rather light or sandy hair.
Spins hair is black. Of course the hair color might
be a trick of photography. As for the face, I dont
recall exactly, but how can you tell from a blown-up
snapshot whether theres a true likeness to Spin or
not? Do your snapshots ever look like you in real
life? Mine always make me look like somebodys
idiot aunt. Ruth laughed and shrugged. Vicki was
obliged to agree that a snapshot might not identify
anyone conclusively. Besides, Vicki, suppose
Corporal Tattoo in the photo did resemble Spin?
What of it? It might be only a coincidence.
Spins tattoo Vicki hesitated. Did you ever
see one with a dagger and serpent?
No, but ignorant persons who insist on
disfiguring themselves usually choose romantic
symbols. Ruth Streeter smiled her detached smile.
A tattoo is scarcely a matter to let yourself get
agitated about.
That photo might prove Spin was in Germany,
like Darnell But Vicki stopped. Ruth had said on
an earlier occasion that she knew nothing of Darnell,
127

and Vicki had never repeated to her the story Dean

Fletcher had told. What use was there in relating it
to her along with todays possibly dangerous
discovery? Better to leave Ruth safely out of this.
The doorbell rang. Speak of the devil: Spin was
standing there, holding Freddies hand. Over Ruths
shoulder, his and Vickis eyes met. Ruth asked him
to come in.
I brought your kid home, maam. Hes got a
bellyache.
Can Spin stay awhile, please, can he, huh?
Vicki left in a hurry. She would discuss the photo
album and Spins eagerness to see it another time
but not in the presence of the mechanic. This was as
much as she could take for one day.
Her sharpest fear, Vicki reluctantly admitted, was
of Spin Voight. She could take in stride a forced
landing. But Spin Voight disliked her and was no
one to antagonize too far. She looked forward with
relief to going back to her job in Chicago tonight.
She needed time to think, she needed to talk to Dean
Fletcher, and she had a clue to follow in the city.

128

CHAPTER X

Who Is Land and Sky, Inc.?

Chicago! It meant a chance to track down the

mysterious Land and Sky, Inc., who wanted to buy
Bills land. Vicki impatiently worked on her Federal
Airlines job from Friday night straight through
Monday. The prize was two days rest in Chicago.
Vicki awoke early Tuesday morning in her hotel
room, dressed quickly, and went out to the corner
drugstore for breakfast. Her first concern was to
locate the man, named Gerald Hood, who had
traveled down to Fairview to make Land and Skys
secretive offer. Not one of the many telephone
directoriescity, suburbs, classified Red Book
listed any Gerald Hood. Not even a G. Hood.
Thats dandy, Vicki sighed, munching a piece
of toast. She started all over again, searching for
Land and Sky, Inc. They were not listed, either. Oh,
well, she had expected hard digging. Vicki jammed
her pink linen cap on her blond hair and started off
with a determined stride.
129

The instant the doors of the public library opened,

Vicki was asking the librarian for the Dun and
Bradstreet book, which contains the financial ratings
of all reputable American business firms. The name
of Land and Sky, Inc., did not appear. Gerald Hood
was not listed, either. It certainly was a poor start.
What next? As the daughter of a well-known
economist she ought to be able to knock on certain
doors and ask for information. Vicki coolly figured
that a likely door in this case would be a business
publication. Her dad had stacks of such magazines
around the house; Vicki reviewed their names in her
mind. And then she remembered a Mr. Harris, a
lawyer, who was on the staff of Business News
Monthly, and who sometimes corresponded with her
father. She could easily ask Mr. Harris. Shucks,
even a perfect stranger neednt be timid about
asking a magazine or newspaper for information. In
the telephone book she located the address of
Business News Monthly.
Mr. Harris turned out to be a kind and helpful
man. He made Vicki welcome in his small, booklittered office, and sent his secretary to one of the
editors to inquire about Land and Sky, Inc.
Now Im beginning to get some place, Vicki
thought.
The secretary returned after an interval to report
that she had queried all the editors and had also
130

looked through several of the magazines files on

airports and on real estate, but Land and Sky was an
unknown quantity.
Are you quite certain they exist? Mr. Harris
asked Vicki.
I think the name may be a blind, Mr. Harris.
Ah! In that case Still He lifted down a
heavy loose-leaf volume. If they have
Incorporated after their name, someone must have
paid a fee to the Government for the legal right to
set themselves up as a corporation.
Mr. Harris searched through the loose-leaf pages
but again no luck. Never mind, Mr. Harris
encouraged Vicki and his puzzled secretary. The
firm may be so new that it isnt listed on any printed
sheet yet. He reached for his telephone and asked
for the Chicago branch of a government agency.
Hello? Mr. Jessup, please. This is Mr. Harris of
Business News. . . . Jessup? . . . How are you? . . .
Can you help us out? . . . Were trying to trace a
firm that calls itself Land and Sky, Inc. There was a
long, long wait. Mr. Harris held on to the phone,
reading some memorandums meanwhile. Vickis
hopes began to waver. What? . . . Nothing else? . . .
Spell it, please. Mr. Harris wrote rapidly. Thanks
very much, sir. He hung up.
Mr. Harris handed the slip of paper to Vicki. It
read: J. R. Smithson. Below it was a downtown
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Chicago business address.

Mr. Jessup said their incorporation papers were
drawn up scarcely a month ago.
Vicki rose, clutching the precious slip of paper.
She was excited now. Youve been very kind, Mr.
Harris. I certainly do thank you. She grinned. I
uhdidnt know business people were so
approachable.
We help each other out, Mr. Harris smiled back
at her. Remember me to your father, wont you?
One hundred and four Wacker Drive North was a
tall business building. Vicki found, on the lobby
wall, the directory of offices in this building and
read through it twice. No Smithson, no Land and
Sky, Inc.! The elevator starter came up to her.
Are you lookin for someone, miss? Vicki
showed him her slip of paper. He frowned and said,
Never heard of em, but why dont you try Room
1013?
A woman receptionist in Room 1013, sitting
behind stacks of letters, informed Vicki that Room
1013 was a service only. It provided a mailing
address and answered telephone calls for persons
who had no business offices of their own.
Yes, Land and Sky, Inc., receive their mail here.
Do you want to leave a message?
I want some information about them, please.
We dont hand out information! We protect our
132

subscribers or the Post Office Department would put

us out of business.
Vicki sighed. I am here on confidential business.
May I see the manager?
It took a lot of persuasion before the receptionist
led Vicki into an inner office. The manager was a
shrewd-eyed older woman. She looked at Vicki in
amusement and asked her to sit down. She must
think Im about fifteen and helpless, the way most
people do, Vicki thought in disgust, because Im
blond and little. With all the dignity she could
muster, Vicki stated her question.
Ill tell you what I can, the manager said. Lets
see. She opened a ledger and read: Land and Sky,
Inc., A Chain of American Airports. Chairman, J. R.
Smithson. They came to us about a month ago.
Vicki perched on the edge of her chair. A chain of
American airports! How grandiose. Who was J. R.
Smithson?
I dont know any Smithson, the manager
declared blandly.
But Im sure you know your subscribers.
Not in this case, young lady. Messengers or
hotel bellboys come for the Smithson mail. They
also bring the fee for our service, in cash. Ive never
seen Smithson.
Butbut Vicki sputtered. The whole story
sounded unlikely. Yet everything else about Land
133

and Sky was unlikely, too. Forgive me if I sound

insistent, but could you give me Smithsons home
address? Or other business address?
We are not permitted to do that. Besides, the
woman said vaguely, I dont have any other
address for him. Now, if you dont mind, Im quite
busy
Oh! Of course. Vicki thanked the manager and
left in a hurry. Was the manager lying? If she were,
it meant that Land and Sky and this modest mail
service were in cahoots together. That didnt make
much sense! Even a sizable bribe from Land and
Sky, Inc., would not make it worth while for this
service to risk its good reputationto risk being put
out of business by the United States Post Office
Department. No, probably the woman was telling
the truth. It was Land and Sky, Inc., and J. R.
Smithson who were evasive and concealing
something.
By this time it was almost noon. Vicki ducked
into a restaurant before the crowd arrived and
puzzled as she lunched. Not one, not twobut a
chain of airports! The very name, Land and Sky,
Inc., sounded as if it masked someone who intended
to own heaven and earth itself! Sounded grandiose
enough to be a promoter on the style of Andrew
Corey. Was Land and Sky, Inc., a cover name for
Corey himself? Vicki sat frozen with her fork poised
134

in mid-air. Corey wanted to buy Bills land, and

Land and Sky wanted to buy Bills land. They might
just possibly be the same person. If not, how could
she find out the identity of Coreys competitor? An
idea struck her.
She seized her check and fled to the cashier, then
taxied back to the hotel. There she purchased some
plain paper and a plain envelope at the stationery
stand, and all but ran into the deserted writing room.
This letter had to go into the mail quickly. Vicki
wrote:
Land and Sky, Inc.
104 Wacker Drive North
Chicago, Illinois
Dear Sirs:
I should like to be considered for future
employment at your airport in or nearest to the
Chicago area. My background includes air
stewardess work, training as a private pilot, and
some secretarial skills. May I please have an
interview at your convenience? . . .
Vicki signed her name and home address. It was
the only sure way to get a reply, if any reply
materialized. If this letter tipped off anybody that
135

Vicki Barr was suspicious, so much the better! Let

them know their shenanigans were not going
unnoticed. She had nothing to hide or to fear. This
was a perfectly bona fide application for
employment, and if Land and Sky, Inc., were a bona
fide firm, she would receive an acknowledgment. Of
course her letter might produce no results at all. It
was worth a try, though. What if she received an
answer signed J. R. Smithson, setting a date and
place for an appointment!
Wow, said Vicki to herself. Go on, mail it.
Before you lose your nerve. She did mail it. Now
she could only wait.
After a much-needed nap, Vicki turned her
attention to other clues. That code letterYENOM.
That was all she could remember of it. Vicki
searched her purse, suitcase, and all pockets.
Apparently she had left the code letter at home.
Shed have to wait on that lead, too.
Another free day in Chicago produced no new
clues, nothing at all. So Vicki was doubly glad to be
flying the night run, east to New York, with Dean
Fletcher. She had things to ask the tall young
copilot. Vicki got an opportunity to talk with him
when he emerged from the pilots cabin at two A.M.,
yawning, and came down the darkened aisle
between dozing passengers. He asked Vicki for hot,
black coffee; she had it ready and steaming in her
136

sky kitchen. The flying was smooth tonight and

there were millions of stars.
Fix a pot of coffee to take to Captain Jordan,
Dean said, taking his own cup. Whats on your
mind, Vic?
Darnell or Purnellthat AAF boy with the
tattoo.
Vicki confided to Dean the things she had
discovered at and around Bill Averys airport, and
Deans calm face grew taut as he listened. He was
particularly troubled when Vicki told of the DC-3s
near accident. About Darnell, she insisted.
About Darnell. Dean answered Vickis
questions. Im positive he had fair or light-brown
hair. Not black hair, at any rate. He was rather short.
Rather spare
Do you think Bills mechanic may have dyed his
hair black? Just an idea. Please go on, Dean.
I know only one more thing. I heard it
rumoredId been transferredthat Darnell did
something in addition to deserting. Something
serious. He had good reason for running off. He got
into trouble. Dean shrugged. Never learned the
story.
Desertion. Doesnt that mean hes wanted for
court-martial? Vicki asked.
Sure. If they can ever find him. Darnell probably
is hiding out, in one way or another.
137

Suppose, Vicki said slowly, someone

recognized Darnell?
And tried to turn him in? Say, Vic, you be
careful! All right, all right! Ill tell you about
Darnells tattoo. It had a regimental serpent
In green, Vicki interrupted, and a dripping red
dagger superimposed on a plane.
Yes! Dean was startled. You saw that? Good
grief!
Waitwait, Dean Did many men have tattoos
like that? And what are the dagger and plane
connected with? What happened at the same time
that the tattoos were applied? She remembered the
blurred word.
Dean scowlingly sipped the last of his coffee,
trying to remember. On both questions, Vic, I just
dont know. Im awfully sorry. Tell you what,
though. Dean picked up the key to the pilots steel
door. Ill write to two men who knew Darnell and
ask them to write you whatever they know about
him. Hows that?
Thats wonderful! Thanks, friend. Please tell
em to write to my home address. More letters she
would have to wait for!
In New York, Vicki found her fellow
stewardesses at home, Mrs. Duff, and letters.
Quickly Vicki tore open the fat envelope addressed
in her mothers hand. It had come air mailit might
138

contain a letter from Land and Sky, Inc. But it was

one of the usual welcome newsy letters from home.
It was far too soon for a reply from Land and Sky.
Betty Barr wrote something interesting, though.
Ginny, assisted by five other girls, was performing a
genuine community service. Following CAA
regulations and directions, they paired off in twos
with their bicycles loaded with paints, brushes, and
stencils, and were peppering the flat roofs of the
countryside with air markers pointing toward Bills
field. Avery Airport is going to become a haven for
private fliers, Ginny swears, with those markers and
no tie-down fee. Dad says what the kids are doing
should bring new business to many Fairview people
besides your friend Bills field. Privately I think,
dear, her mother wrote, that you are going to have
your hands full. Ginny collects a new girl every day
or so, and all of them are bent on learning to fly.
Vicki smiled. She had a wonderful scheme for
Ginny and her palsthe more, the merrier. Just wait
till she got home again! She noticed a P.S. on her
mothers letter. Need I add that Ginny and
Company are getting paid?
A letter in a large scrawling handwriting was
from Bill. It contained exactly three lines. Took the
DC-3 up several times this week and its in A-1
repair, so stop worrying. Spin says please charge
and send us a wing tripod jack. Costs about a
139

hundred dollars. Hard to find one here. I miss you

like heck around here. Love, Bill.
Vicki laughed out loud. The other girls wanted to
hear all about Bill. They cheered Vicki for her flying
lessons.
Charmion Wilson took her that evening to a
dinner meeting of the Women Fliers of America, at
a New York hotel. All of the smiling women seated
at the long, festive dinner table held pilots licenses
except Vicki. She was astonished at their variety: a
handsome and lively teacher; a world-traveled lady
famous for her hospitality and her tennis; a pleasant
grandmother; a pink-cheeked secretary just turned
eighteen; a young woman scientist whose hobby was
flying and who had ferried ATC bombers; a cleareyed young woman pilot from the Far West,
formerly a WASP, who was a doctors wife and
mother of two small children; a tall, beautiful girl
who during wartime came from New England to be
an A&E mechanic for the Air Force and now did
personnel work for a big airline; another beauty who
was a stewardess on still another airlineand more,
all wearing small silver wings pinned to their
dresses. And this was just the New York chapter.
They seemed to be old friends, and welcomed Vicki.
All this was strictly for sport, but Vicki did hear
much serious, informed talk about aviation. The
WFA members had not heard of Land and Sky,
140

Inc.what was it? One remark particularly struck

her:
Andrew Corey is in New York now. Hes
terribly Maybe Id better discreetly change the
subject. My husband contributes this twenty-fivedollar check and wants us to issue him one of our
famous Back-Seat Pilots licenses.
That broken-off remark about Corey stuck in
Vickis mind. She telephoned her newspaperman
friend, Pete Carmody, next day. Pete, rakish but
reliable, reported aviation news for one of New
Yorks leading newspapers.
How are you, Goldilocks? Yes, Im fine but
Bernard Shaw has a cold. Bernard Shaw was Petes
small pet monkey. Pete listened seriously as Vicki
asked whether he had any news about Andrew
Corey. No, Vic, nothing.
If anything develops, will you let me know?
Pronto, Pete! No matter where I am, send me a
wire.
My, my, how serious you sound. Okay, sweetie,
will do.
Vickis heart was not in her job when she flew
the New York-to-Washington runs on Friday and
Saturday. It was only on Sunday morning at
LaGuardia Airport, when Ruth Benson put her back
on the New York-Chicago flight, on one of the huge
ships requiring two stewardesses, that Vickis
141

attention was fully engaged.

Andrew Corey was among the fifty-eight
passengers waiting to board her plane.
Vicki went immediately to Charmion Wilson who
was the other stewardess on this run and whispered,
Will you do the galley job today and let me serve
all the breakfasts? Please! Charmion nodded, busy
checking the names of the passengers on her
manifest as they filed aboard one by one. Andrew
Corey took a seat near the rear. Vicki saw the portly
man fussing with his brief case, as she went up and
down the aisle helping people strap in for the takeoff. This was a luxury flight, with a red-velvet carpet
unrolled to the plane, gladioli and tall roses in silver
vases fastened in the wall corners, photo murals
decorating the walls of the long, double cabin. There
was music, piped in softlybut Vicki could not
enjoy it, nor this sunny July Sunday morning. As the
plane roared and taxied, then lifted and began to
climb, Vicki sat in her jump seat and watched
Corey. He seemed tense and guarded, and his lap
was already full of business papers.
Twenty minutes later Vicki came up to him,
swaying a little with the motion of the plane, to offer
Corey a tray of breakfast. He recognized the
stewardess in the pert blue uniform but merely
accepted the tray with a curt Thanks.
She finished serving endless trays and trays of
142

breakfasts. The passengers were mostly vacationers,

in high spirits, and no one wanted any special
service from the stewardesses, thank goodness.
Armed with a fresh cup and pot of coffee, Vicki
returned to Andrew Corey. He was working over his
papershe was in a sweat, upset and tired.
More coffee, Mr. Corey? She smiled. Im
Vicki Barr, from Fairview, you know. Were
complimented to have you ride with Federal, sir.
She said it so winningly that the gray-haired
promoter, tense as he was, smiled too. He accepted
another cup of coffee.
Beautiful plane. Beautiful! Good breakfast. You
enjoy your work, dont you, Miss Barr?
I love it. Im learning to fly, too, at Bill Averys
field. Vicki chatted on briefly and pleasantly,
steering the conversation toward the subject of Spin
Voight. Mr. Corey fingered the papers on his knees,
remarked what a fine boy Bill was and how his field
was growing. Vicki quickly picked up that opening.
His new mechanic is a great help to him. Bill
hopes you dont mind losing that A&E mechanic,
Mr. Corey.
Which boy was that? Vicki furnished Spins
name. Oh, yes, capable mechanic. You tell Bill
hes very welcome to him. I have plenty of other
good workers.
Bill is proud to have someone you handpicked,
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Mr. Corey. I heard that you originally brought Spin

down to Fairview from Chicago with you, along
with some other specialists.
You know, Id forgotten that! Corey frowned at
her. My personnel man did the actual hiring.
Now Vicki came to the point, trying to sound
casual. Oh, Id thought you chose those people first
because you knew all about them and their
backgroundsto be certain they were qualified
Corey grasped her point instantly. He stiffened. I
employ dozens of people. You cant expect me to
know the personal life of each one. None of an
employers business, anyhow.
Someone buzzed for the stewardess but Vicki
ignored it. Charmion would answer. She said in a
disarming tone to Corey, I can understand that, sir.
Its just that someone in town asked Bill and me
about Spins background, and we couldnt answer.
We dont know. She gazed at Andrew Corey
inquiringly.
Well, you tell Bill I dont know either. The
promoter was indifferent. I never asked Spin. Hes
a good mechanic. Always did what he was told, and
beyond that I asked no questions. I didnt care to
know any more than that. Corey irritably picked up
a sheaf of letters. Vicki realized he was dismissing
her.
Vicki collected the last of the trays and passed out
144

magazines, meanwhile trying to evaluate Coreys

remarks. He certainly appeared uninterested in Spin,
at the present time, and unconcerned about what
Spins past might have been. I asked no
questions. But didnt an employer want to know if
his employee was of good character? I didnt care
to know . . . Because Corey didnt care whether he
dealt with shady people or not? Not too scrupulous
of Corey. An odd, vague idea popped into Vickis
mind: Birds of a feather flock together.
When the plane landed and discharged its
passengers in Chicago, Vicki and Charmion
remained behind in the empty cabin to pick up any
lost belongings. In the aisle near the exit door,
trampled and soiled, Vicki found an empty
envelope. It was addressed in her own handwriting
to Land and Sky, Inc. The letter she had mailed in
Chicago last Tuesday! She caught her breath. One of
the fifty-eight passengers aboard was connected
with Land and Sky, Inc.! Could it be Corey? Or was
the person who dropped this empty envelope one of
the fifty-seven other passengers?
On Thursday evening the WFA woman had said
that Corey was in New York. To get from Fairview
to New York by plane he would have had to go first
to Chicago.
Vicki figured dates. Wrote and mailed her letter
last Tuesdayit was delivered to 104 Wacker Drive
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North on WednesdayCorey was in New York on

Thursday. Well, Corey could have been in Chicago
on Wednesday, or Thursday, or both. He could have
picked up the Land and Sky mail then.
And what had become of the letter she had
written?
Vicki arrived back in Fairview late Sunday night
to learn two dispiriting pieces of information from
Ginny: Ruth Streeter and Freddie had gone to
California, earlier than planned. Bill was now
unrestrained in his happy Sloppy Joe style.
The other news, Ginny reported, was that Spin
had returned Ruth Streeters photograph album to
her before she and Freddie left. As a souvenir, Ruth
had let Spin keep one photo from the album. Spin
wanted the picture as a souvenir because, he had
said, it showed a fine B-39. Vicki could guess which
photo it was! Also, when out of curiosity, Bill had
asked to see the photo, Spin had said he had lost it.
Lost or hidden or destroyed? Vicki wondered.

146

CHAPTER XI

O Solo Me-O

Vicki returned to Bills airfield feeling low in spirits.

She was discouraged to find the office again looking
as if a cyclone had struck it. Spin was pleased at the
destruction of Vickis efforts. To add to Vickis
exasperation she could not locate the code note
which she was so anxious to decipher.
However, a sudden spurt of progress with her
flying lessons helped to raise her spirits. It was as if,
during the interval when she was away and not
piloting, her mind and muscles had had time and rest
to digest all she had learned so far. When she took
Bill up in the Cubdoing take-off, climb, turns, and
landing all by herselfit suddenly was easy and
natural. Almost effortless.
I told you it would come to you all at once, one
fine day! Bill climbed out of the plane and beamed
at her.
I doubt if Ill ever learn to navigate crosscountry, though. Vicki grasped his outstretched
147

hand and jumped down.

Youll learn to navigate, too, Bill said
cheerfully. He had already taught her, earlier this
week, what to do in emergenciesstall or simulated
forced landingwhen to recognize the stall point of
the plane and how to recover the planeand had her
practice, practice, practice. You made only two
minor mistakes today, Vicki. Now listen
In the hot sunshine they held their usual tenminute post-mortem discussion, reviewing the
lesson. Today was the third half-hour lesson Vicki
had had since she came home. Nine hours in the air,
so far.
All right, get in, said Bill, and try it again. The
air is calm. Its a perfect morning.
Vicki climbed in, but Bill didnt. He slammed the
plane door on her, grinned, and shouted: Take er
around yourself! You know what to do! Before
Vicki could protest, he spun the propeller, and then
backing off the runway, Bill sat down
unconcernedly in the grass. He waved her ahead.
Solo! He expected her to solo! Vicki shook from
head to toes, but her hands and feet went
automatically to the controls and before she knew
what was happening, she was taxiing shallow Sturns. She stopped to check her magnetos, then,
heading the ship into the wind, gave it full throttle.
With the runway seeming to rush past her, the little
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plane lifted. She was going up, climbingalone!

Her heart pounded but her muscles were doing their
job perfectly. Her brain clearly ticked off the altitude
of five hundred feet and the ninety-degree angle of
bank as she turned.
She was alone in the sunny blue, flying smoothly
along at eight hundred feet, as easy and happy as a
bird! She tingled with exhilaration. Presently it
dawned on Vicki that that sound was herself singing,
out of sheer joy.
She looked down and picked out the tiny figure
that was Bill. Beside him were Spin and Ginny, the
three of them looking up, watching her and cheering
her on! In her delight Vicki managed to remember
that she must make her best landing ever. She was
soloing! Three take-offs and landings were required
to solo, so Vicki came down, landed, took off,
circled Bills field, and repeated, smoothly and with
only one small prayer. Thenjust to show Bill she
could do itVicki executed a steep climbing turn
and flew the plane on its side, recovering neatly.
Im so excited I can hardly stand it! Her mouth
felt stretched. She must be grinning from ear to ear.
Looking down again past the wing, she saw Bill on
his feet, waving her in. Vicki cut the throttle,
pointed the nose gently down, below the horizon
line, and put the ship into an earthbound glide. The
wind was with her and she landed as softly as a
149

butterfly.
As she taxied up to the apron, Bill tore across the
grass to her, opened the plane door, and hugged her.
Good girl! I knew you could do it! He kissed
her enthusiastically and the kiss landed on her chin.
Vicki sat there in a happy daze. Good for you! I
told Spin you could do it!
Only then did Vicki see a stretcher and a first-aid
kit waiting at the edge of the runway, and Bills car
with its motor left running, and Ginnys face dead
white. How ridiculous of them to have been so
worried! As a matter of fact, it was Ginny and not
Vicki who needed to have a bottle of spirits of
ammonia held under her nose.
Bill wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.
Just one thing, honey. Dont flirt with stalls, please,
until youre a more experienced pigeon. You nearly
gave us all heart failure.
Pooh, said Vicki. It was nothing. She was
fibbing slightly; her fears were almost but not quite
effaced.
Ginny came over and gravely shook Vickis
hand. Youre a pilot, Ginny said, aviationese for
praise.
Vicki pulled off her long-billed cotton cap and
her curls tumbled onto her neck. Whew! This is the
biggest day of my life! Unexpectedly Ginny
grabbed her by her shirttails. With Bills big office
150

scissors, she snipped off Vickis shirttailsGinny

must have learned of that ceremony in one of the
aviation books shed been reading. Ginny was as
elated as Vicki herself about her first solo flight.
For all her glee, intense concentration had gone
into her solo and abruptly she felt spent. Not too
tired, though, to be alert to the fact that Spin alone
did not congratulate her. She lightly remarked on it.
Spin picked up his tools, preparatory to returning
to the hangar. Okay, now you can fly. So what?
Whats it good for?
Bill, who had been making notations in Vickis
logbook, looked up. Jeepers, are you a sour apple
sometimes. The trouble with you, Spin, is you like
to make out flyins something mysterious and hard,
for heroes only. Why dont you give credit where
its due?
Okay, okay. So the stewardess number can fly. I
even say, all right, women can fly as good as men. I
mean, in these light planes. Men can learn to knit,
too, but they dont declare a legal holiday when they
do!
Bill laughed. That laugh marred Vickis pleasure
in todays achievement in the air.
ListenSpin grinned full at BillI used to
enjoy bein around an airport. But not since the
women invaded em! A man aint got a place he can
call his own any more.
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When Bill chuckled, Vickis heart sank. Teasing

always discouraged her, especially Bills.
Why does Spin have to spoil everything? she
complained as the mechanic walked away.
Now, now, Bill cautioned. Cant you take a
joke?
Why was Spin so nasty to her? While Bill wrote
her solo into her logbook and officially signed her
license, Vicki tried to think the problem through.
Why? The last time she saw Spin, when she teased
him into showing her his tattoo, they had joked a bit.
But now Spin was more hostile than ever.
Apparently his joking about the tattoo had been
merely a pretense of friendliness and he resented
intensely her discovery. Spins insults were constant
and deliberate enough to drive a person off the field.
Was that what he wantedto get rid of her? Vicki
took a deep breath. If Spin were Darnell, and if he
suspected that she recognized him, he would think
what? That Vicki might turn him in for that courtmartial! Of course he would want her out of the
way! If Spin were Darnell . . .
The letters from Deans two AAF friends had
reached her, but one wrote that he remembered
Darnell as short and fair, while the other recalled
him as rather tall and rather dark. Two opposite
descriptions! Tricks of the mind, and tricks of
memory, too. Both men wrote frankly that they
152

might not recognize Darnell face to face, out of the

hundreds of servicemen they met, and after all these
years. If, if, if. She had not a shred of proof against
Spin, only strong reasons for suspicion.
Vicki decided to drown her worries in good, hard
work. They were busy at Avery Airport. Bill said
Fairview had had a stretch of rain while she was
away on her job. It had even rained on the Fourth of
July and they had been weathered out. This week
Bill was trying to catch up on several flying lessons
and cargo jobs. As usual, Dwight Muellers
perishable orchids took priority. Vicki came out to
the field to fly and to help load the delicate blossoms
onto the DC-3.
Have you room for a free rider? Vicki asked
hopefully, when she had loaded the orchids as usual
on Friday morning. Orchids dont weigh very
much.
Neither do you and thats it, Bill said. Sure,
hop in. Want a boost? Hey, Ginny! Tell your folks
Vicki wont be back till suppertime.
Ginny looked exceedingly disappointed that she
could not go, too. Because she was not yet sixteen,
Bill would not take her flying unless he had written
permission from Professor and Mrs. Barrfrom
both parents. Not much chance of getting that,
unfortunately.
Did you ch Vicki began.
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Yes, Spin checked. I see that schoolmarm look

on your beautiful face! Spin checked fuel, fuel
valves, oilsatisfied? I checked mags. Bill
virtuously wiggled the stick around a bit himself.
All right?
Vicki would have preferred a more complete
check, right on the minute before take-off instead of
an hour ago or last nightand by Bill. But
inasmuch as the DC-3 had been functioning
perfectly all along, she didnt want to nag.
Shes old, but she climbs like a youngster, Bill
shouted as they gained altitude.
Dont boast! Vicki shouted back.
Bill leveled off, banked rather jerkily, and turned
left out of his fields traffic pattern. The big twinengined ship roared straight ahead. They flew high
above Corey Field, avoiding its traffic pattern, and
not seeing much from way up there, either. Vicki
was admiring the easy way Bill kept the DC-3s
nose level on the horizon line when Bill banked
again for a turn. He frowned and righted the ship to
level.
Vicki, come up here! Bill called.
She made her way forward from a passengers
seat to the pilots seat before the instrument panel.
Put your hand on the controls, Bill ordered. She
complied. How does it feel to you?
She hesitated. Limp. Like when the plane is at
154

rest on the ground.

Bank and tell me how it feels to you. Brace your
hand on the dashboard.
Banking a big ship was almost more than Vicki
could do at her present stage of skillparticularly
since the stick didnt seem to take hold very well.
She pulled hard but her pressure yielded only a
sloppy, loose movement. The plane did not bank
properly. Anyone who could ride a bicycle could
feel it was wrong.
Bill watched. Does something feel loose? No
catchinnot meshin?
I guess I havent enough strength, Bill, she said
above the noise of the roaring engines. They, at
least, were humming smoothly without missing a
beat.
Its not you, pigeon; its the ship. Bill turned
his head back and forth from one wing to another,
watching closely. He straightened out with his
rudders and tried again to bank. Again the same
weak response. Bill squinted his dark-blue eyes.
Look at the ailerons!
Out there on the wings the movable ailerons were
not moving. They remained in neutral position
which was for level, straight-ahead flying, but when
Bill banked and banked again, Vicki saw the
ailerons were still in neutral.
The only thing Ive got left to enable me to
155

change direction is my rudder control, Bill shouted.

I dont like this. Im turnin back.
He turned the ship clumsily, headed her home,
and awkwardly jockeyed the plane into line with the
runway. He called to Vicki, Heres a lesson for
you! What sort of landing shall we make?
Just get us down!
Bill made a long, fast approach instead of his
usual short gliding landing. As soon as their wheels
touched and the plane slowed down, Bill and Vicki
peered again at the ailerons on the wings. To their
horror they saw both the ailerons were drooping.
Spin came strolling out of the hangar to see why
Bill was back so soon. Some transient fliers, who
had landed to gas up, ran over curiously.
Hey, Spin! Bill inspected the wings in a
puzzled way. Come here and look at these ailerons!
Theyre loose.
Is that the only reason you came back? Spin
said. Gee, Bill, I never thought you scared that
easy.
Bill flushed and Vicki said angrily to the
mechanic, We nearly had to make an emergency
landing! The ship wouldnt bank properly!
Quiet, pigeon. This is strictly between Spin and
me.
Spin flipped one loose aileron. Yeah, I see. So?
Why didnt you see it yourself before you went up?
156

Bill turned on his mechanic sternly. How did

this occur?
You know as well as I do. We removed the
fabric ailerons yesterday, so we could carry those
special installations on the underside of the wing.
Naturally, if you remove the ailerons, you got to
remove the control cables. I told you that, Bill, why
cant you remember? Im sorry if you forgot to
fasten em properly. Spin was talking fast and his
eyes spat sparks. You took this ship out of the
hangar yourself this mornin without a word to
mebefore I had a chance;
Why didnt you remind me? Where were you all
the time we were loadin?
Okay, okay, youre the boss. I said Im sorry!
Its an old ship and you can expect an old
secondhand ship to get loose and break down
sometimes. If you want me to leave, good-bye! I
aint stayin where people suspect me!
Nobody wants you to leave, Spin. Bills voice
softened. Im not sore and dont you be sore, either.
Somebodys been darn careless, thats all.
Well, boss, excuse me, but maybe it was you.
Ill tow her back and fix her. Spin marched off, his
back stiff with fury.
Beside Vicki, Bill was breathing hard. I dont
want to lose my A&E mechanic, he muttered.
Might not be able to get another one in a hurry
157

and Spin is tops.

Tops! Vicki could restrain herself no longer.
She was shaking with repressed fright and anger,
and she burst out, The loose ailerons are Spins
fault! Its Spins responsibility, not yours, to keep
the ship in repair! Hes falling down on his job.
Now dont you criticize Spin
Or maybe we slurred over that last near accident
entirely too lightly! Weve nearly crashed two times.
Im beginning to think its sabotage!
That will do, Vicki. Thats enough!
Are you sure these are accidents, Bill? she
pleaded. I wonder if Spin isnt deliberately risking
our necks.
Youd better be careful about accusin anyone,
Bill got out through tight lips. Spins my mechanic;
hes tops with me, and whats more, hes my
friend.
Dwights your friend but Spin isnt. Youve
substituted Spin for Dwight, but youre making a
dangerous mistake.
What kind of silly talk is that? I dont want to
hear another word against Spin! Bill shouted at her
indignantly. I dont need a hysterical flight
stewardess to tell me how to run my airfield!
Vicki retreated to the office. It was no use trying
to say anything furtherthe more she attacked Spin,
the more Bill defended him. He had a blind loyalty
158

for Spin. Vicki would have left Bill and his airfield
then and there, except that she hated to walk out on
Bill when he was under the influence of someone as
dubious as Spin Voight. Maybe she could open
Bills eyes. For Vicki was convinced that todays
accident was no accident at all. Spin had
deliberately tampered with Bills cargo plane.
What a coincidence that the DC-3 should
conveniently break down just on the particular
morning that the orchids were flown to Chicago
and Spin knew the orchids were always packed on
Monday and Friday, that Vicki always helped pack
them, and that on Friday Bill usually took her along.
What Spins motives were she did not knowunless
it were to get rid of herself. She knew too much. Just
by the way, Spin could have killed Bill, too. That
was Bills my friend Spin!
An hour later Bill stomped into the office and
said to Vicki in a deadly still voice:
Did you telephone Dwight Mueller that his
orchids are still sitting here on my field?
Certainly not!
Well, someone did. Always a few busybodies
hangin around an airfield! I dont care which one of
our visitors it was, what I mind isDwight just
drove over here, mad as a hornet, and told me he
thinks Im a rotten careless flier. My friend
Dwight! Hes withdrawin his orchid cargo from this
159

field and transferrin it to Corey Field. Some

friend!
But Dwight canthe mustnt! Vicki gasped.
She could see Dwights point of view and it was
justified, but to deprive Bill of the backbone of his
business! Why, that will
practically put me out of business. Bill ran
his hands through his thick hair. Dwight told me he
was sorry to do it. Huh! Sorry! Thank heavens I
have Spin to depend on in this pinch.
Vicki was too appalled to be able to speak.
Dwights breaking his contract would not be the
only bad repercussion. That very day Dwight drove
over to Corey Field. People noticed it, and Corey
would be publicity-minded enough to call the
newspaper and tell them Dwight Mueller had
transferred his orchid cargo from Avery Airport to
Corey Field. The CAA man would hear of it
promptly. This might be the beginning of the end of
Bills reputation, and of his very business existence.
As Vicki was trudging off the field, Spin stepped
out from behind a shed. No one else was around.
Just a minute, you. I hear you were askin Mr.
Corey a lot of questions about me. Now I figure
thats unfriendly, see? Spin bent hatefully close.
Also none of your business. Dont pry!
Youre the one who telephoned Dwight Mueller,
arent you? she said shakily.
160

Dont pry, I told you!

Vicki moved off feeling frightened. So Corey had
told Spinor told someone who told Spinabout
her questions. She had not foreseen this; it stunned
her. It began to lookfantastic as it soundedas if
the promoter and the mechanic might be linked in
some way.

161

CHAPTER XII

The Other Tattoo Mark

Vicki learned the bad news from a headline in the

Fairview newspaper:
SEEK INJUNCTION TO CLOSE
AVERY AIRPORT
NEIGHBORS CLAIM IT A NUISANCE AND HAZARD
A civic group in an unexpected move applied
late yesterday to the County Court to force the
stoppage of all flights at Avery Airport.
Interviewed by this newspaper last night, Mr.
James Parker, spokesman for the complainants,
declared they may seek damages from William
Avery. Details and photos on page 4.
Vicki raced over to Bills airfield. Mr. Corey had
stopped by and was offering to supply Bill with
advice or a loan or even offering to buy Bill out
162

whatever the young man needed in his unlucky

circumstances. Corey looked genuinely sorry for
Bill.
Its a shame, Bill. If you want a job to tide you
over, just say the word.
Thank you, sir, but Im stayin right here. I still
have a fightin chance. Ill prepare a defense.
Vicki cheered him silently. Spin, she noticed,
stayed quietly out of sight. Mr. Corey was talking to
Bill about avoiding any more of the mistakes hed
already made.
Youve been harebrained, young fellow. All
those gaudy roof signsthey antagonize people
who live around here. Youve been visionary in
hoping to carry air freight with just one worn-out
DC-3. You cant possibly make a go of it.
I can make a go of it, Bill retorted stubbornly.
Ive been makin a go of it, sir, even if you give me
ninety-nine reasons why its impossible.
Mr. Corey motioned for his car to pull up. No
fool like a young fool. Take your policy of no tiedown fee, for example. Even I, who can afford not
to charge fliers, wouldnt do that.
It makes more gas and service sales for me, sir.
It makes me new friends.
Vicki stepped forward. She had an idea. Mr.
Corey, Im going to circulate a petition to call off
this injunction. Will you sign it?
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Certainly. The promoter reached in his pocket

for his fountain pen. On second thought, however,
my signature might do you more harm than good.
Lets just tell the public Im neutral.
A terrible noise from overhead deafened them.
Vicki looked up and saw two old Army trainers
buzzing Bills fieldstunt flyingflying so low
that she could see the pilots laughing faces. As if
buzzing were a joke! Roaring down in power dives,
their wings almost grazed the hangar roof.
Tell your wild friends to cut that out! Corey
cried above the noise and wind and dust stirred up
by the diving planes. He angrily jumped into his car.
The two planes swooped low again and Vicki
could clearly see the license numbers painted on
their wings. Then they climbed, screaming, and
streaked away. Frightened as she was, Vicki noted
their direction.
Bill ran to Andrew Coreys car. Theyre not my
friends. I never saw those planes or those fellows
before!
Corey, as the chauffeur drove off, looked as if he
did not believe Bill. Who in Fairview would? Bill
despairingly turned to Vicki. Thats the truth.
Those fliers are strangers to me.
I believe you, Bill, Vicki said gently. Im
going to find out who they are. And why theyre
pestering you.
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First, though, Bill needed all her help to fight this

move to abolish his field. Later in the day the CAA
man, Mr. MacDonald, came both to investigate
Bills field and to offer Bill guidance. Mr.
MacDonald agreed on the first step.
Certainly Miss Barr can do it. Shed be a very
good person and she can report her findings in
writing to me. Ill turn them over to the State
Aviation Commission as well as CAA.
Vicki set out in the family car. She needed
courage, for the complainants against Bill were
among the most eminent persons in the community.
Mrs. Crane, the first person Vicki interviewed,
was mistress of a country estate. She had barely two
minutes to spare for anyone associated with that
wild boy. Vicki asked, in her most tactful manner,
what it was the lady objected to.
Those noisy planes! I raise thoroughbred horses,
and the planes frighten them.
Vicki silently estimated the distance of this estate
from Bills airfield, then said, But, Mrs. Crane, by
the time planes fly over your house they have gained
too much altitude to make much noise. Just then
Vicki heard a truck backfiring on the highway, and
then a car starting in Mrs. Cranes driveway. She
waited a minute for Bill to circle over and over Mrs.
Cranes house, as prearranged, and he did, exactly
on schedule. Vicki said, Dont you agree that the
165

hum of that plane makes less noise than the truck or

the car?
Mrs. Crane said haughtily, Lets not quibble. Its
enough that the shadows of Mr. Averys planes
badly frighten my horses!
Vicki wrote shadows on her CAA report
knowing Mr. MacDonald would interview these
complainants himself, anyway. She drove to visit
other complainants. Dr. Wentworth insisted that the
planes interrupted his telephone conversations.
Some planes did go by, and Vicki was able to
identify them by their size as belonging to Corey
Field. Mr. James Parker refused absolutely to see
Vicki. At the Di Salvis, Mrs. Di Salvi at first
refused to see the caller, then protested against the
dust that Bills planes stirred up on take-off. Why,
Ill have to move if that airport isnt closed. It ruins
our enjoyment of our gardens! Since her house was
a mile away from Avery Airport, her argument was
supported by nothing but stubbornness. One after
another, Vicki found, had no real argument.
However, they all stuck together against Bill Avery.
They all complained about the planes that buzzed
the field that morning. To this Vicki had no valid
answer. Shed have to trace them. At home, after
writing a report of her interviews, Vicki wrote a
letter to the CAA requesting the names and home
airport of the owners of the planes.
166

Next day Bill told her those crazy fools just

buzzed him again. The entire neighborhood was
terrified, and with reason. The two jokester pilots
had knocked down the windsock and blown the
hangar full of dust. Spin was swearing.
On the more hopeful side, Dwight Mueller drove
over and rather stiffly asked if he could help Bill in
this emergency. The two young men looked at each
other unhappily, antagonistic still.
Yes, thanks, you can help, Vicki said to Bills
old friend. We have to show this townwe have to
educate people to the factthat Avery Airport is not
a nuisance or a danger! Its a community asset.
I see where your stewardess experience is going
to come in handy, Dwight said. He smiled at Vicki.
Hows Barbara? Bill said gruffly.
Shes much better. Thanks for asking, Dwight
got out.
Vicki saw a new light of respect for herself in
Bills eyes. It never had occurred to him before that
though a stewardess might not know all about oil
gauges she had to know how to deal with people.
Perhaps now Bill would also listen to her when she
warned him about Spin.
But Bill continued to rely on his mechanic, who
went about his regular work as coolly as if Bill were
not in trouble. Quit talkin against Spin, Bill told
Vicki crossly. Gosh, Vicki, I dont want to quarrel
167

with you about Spin. I like you too much to argue

with you.
I like you too, Bill, thats exactly why But
Vicki stopped. She didnt want to let Spin, or her
own foolishness, spoil their friendship. So she kept
quiet and went on with her plans, but she did
considerable thinking.
Why was it that only the cargo plane broke
down? Was the old ship defective? Vicki doubted
that, for on purchasing it Bill had replaced any worn
parts. It was a coincidence that the cargo plane,
which was the backbone of Bills business, should
be the only plane out of all the planes on Avery
Airport to break down. Spin serviced every one of
those twenty-five or thirty planes.
Vicki also wondered whether anyone profited as a
result of Bills cargo plane breaking down. Well,
Dwight had transferred his orchid cargo to Corey
Field, so Mr. Corey had profited for one. Not that
that one small cargo contract would mean much to
the huge, rich airport.
On the other hand, if Spin and Corey were
connected in some way, and if Spin had deliberately
tampered with Bills plane, then what was Coreys
part in it? What was Coreys motivewhat did he
want? Vicki racked her brains.
The code note might hold some key to the riddle.
She went through all her pockets, the desk, and
168

bureau drawers in the blue room she shared with

Ginny, but the note eluded her.
For respite from these worries, Vicki took up the
Cub. She had to grit her teeth to go up solo,
especially after that bad experience in the DC-3. But
at every opportunity, Vicki flew, piling up hours in
her logbook toward her license, demonstrating to
Fairview her faith in Avery Airport.
Vicki flew into a pure, isolated region from where
she looked down with a new perspective on the earth
and its troubles. In the sky, all by herself, she
became aware of deeper and more lasting values.
Her problems shrank to their proper size, and Vicki
felt serene and refreshed. This was a special
experience which all pilots had, Vicki realized; fliers
were a brotherhood, no matter what languages they
spoke. She remembered reading somewhere that this
world fraternity of fliers, instead of flying bombers
and fighter planes, would eventually be a force to
achieve and keep world peace. She hoped so, and
educating people to flying, in an air age, started right
here with the citizens of her home town.
It was heartening to see how many people had the
good sense to be interested. People traveled out to
Bills airportlawyers, carpenters, housewives,
department store owners, high school students,
farmerswith names from a dozen different
national backgroundsto sign Bills petition; some
169

signed up for flight lessons with him. Young men

living around here who had served in the Air Force
rallied to Bills defense, forming a veterans club to
promote flying.
Ginny sounded out her fellow high school
students. Several young people wanted a flying club.
If enough of them aged sixteen and over signed up
for lessons, Bill could give them sharply reduced
rates. Ginny wasnt sixteen yet herself but she had
an eye to the future. Bill said happily, Ill have to
get another Cub trainer for em. And if this Fairview
Junior Flying Club goes through, Ill be able to buy
one. Ginny and her croniesseven of them by this
timewere still too junior to fly. Vicki announced
the idea she had been nursing for them. The answer
was for them to become Wing Scouts. So many of
the girls belonged to the Girl Scouts and had
finished their other badge work that they were
eligible for this most glamorous, senior activity.
Already Wing Scouts, about nine girls to a group,
were busy in forty states, Washington, D.C., Hawaii,
and Alaska. (Not every Wing Scout wished to ride
in or pilot planes but did want to be well equipped
for todays flying world.)
Ginnys friends loved the idea. One afternoon
they approached Vicki and said, Will you be our
troop leader?
Surely, if Im here. Otherwise, Ill be your
170

counselor. When Im away, any adultflier or

notcan be your leader.
Vicki wrote, with Ginny breathing down the back
of her neck, to New York, to the main Girl Scout
office, for information on how to start a Wing Scout
troop in Fairview. Until the charter and book of
rules came, this new adventure was something to
dream of. But the girls clamored to begin at once.
I havent the time to start you off, in the middle
of the airport fight, Vicki protested. As it was,
Vicki was spending her two-week vacation right
here in Fairview helping Bill. Councils of war were
held between herself and Bill and a lot of people
who approved Vickis publicity preparations. The
newspaper promised to give Vickis story full
coverage.
As if to spite the neighbors who had
complainedas if to disprove Mr. CoreyBills
business picked up. Owners of private planes, lured
by the free tie-down and Ginnys markers, landed in
droves at Avery Airport. A giant DC-6 freighter
roared in one day, nonscheduled, and set down quite
comfortably in Bills many acres. A man from
Pittsburgh who flew his own plane on frequent
business trips stopped off on his way to Little Rock.
A young woman, hostess on another airline, flew in
in her own P-39. All the private pilots said: Corey
Field is too ritzy and expensive for us. Even at
171

night, transient planes landed. Bill was obliged to

buy portable landing lights and brilliant reflectors.
Daily, Guy English came out with several other
young men and gave Bill a hand at his active airport.
The boys would take no pay. In exchange for their
services, they suggested that Bill give them flying
lessons at his convenience. One day Guy revealed
something interesting about Mr. Corey:
Corey knew how he loved dogs and had
presented him with a fine setter. The promoter had
remarked that he had no boy of his own to give a
dog to. But Guys father had not let him accept the
gift. I did feel funny about it, Guy admitted, with
my dad acting as the judge in this airport case. He
added, in some embarrassment, that when he
returned the setter, Janet Corey had remarked
sarcastically on the Judges fondness for Bill.
Never mind, said Vicki. Everyone in the
whole county knows Judge English is impartial and
just.
Betty Barr told Vicki something everyone in the
whole county decidedly did not know. She had
learned it by accident. The Coreys cook told our
Emma, and while I hate backstairs gossip, I think
youd better know this, dear. Discreetly, very
privately, Andrew and Janet Corey had been
entertaining with a series of dinners and small
parties. Among their guests were Mr. and Mrs.
172

Crane, Mr. and Mrs. Di Salvi, Dr. Wentworth, and

Mr. James Parker.
Despite Bills many supporters, the other side of
the picture continued to be black. More business
meant nothing if the Di Salvis, Cranes, and Parkers
were soon to put him out of existence. People now
complained that Avery Airport was noisier than
everthat it was ruining real-estate values. Too
many planes landing and taking off! was a cry that
spread. Vicki wondered whether that complaint
didnt come from investors in Corey Field. Talk
circulated about a certain kind of airport and
Professor Barr had an argument with Vicki to get
her to stop flying, especially out at Bills. You heard
the same words everywhereThat wild boy!
Someone dubbed his yellow car The Yellow Peril
because of the way Bill drove.
Do you have to go lickety-split? Vicki scolded
him. I know why you do it, Bill. Youre used to
hitting one hundred miles an hour in the air, like
nothing at all, and down on the ground youve lost
your sense of speed. Slo-o-ow down, William!
Yesm, he said meekly, his dark-blue eyes
wandering over her head to a new Boeing.
Bill! Will you pay attention? How can we
convince public opinion that youre a sane person
who runs his airport responsibly if youif you
Darn it, every time she got excited and sputtered,
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Bill laughed. Mr. Avery, if the public is to take you

seriously, youve got to slow down, wash your face,
and behave yourself on our publicity day!
Already there were undisguised remarks about
pilots who were flying foolspilots who knew
flying and nothing else. Why, openly in the
newspaper Vicki unfolded her copy and showed
Bill a statement by Mr. James Parker: Such pilots
love flying, and only flying, but in a narrow sense.
Such a pilot drives down the street at eighty miles an
hour from his house to the airfield, nearly killing a
child on the way but not stopping to notice, flies all
day, talks flying with other pilots in the evening, and
drives at eighty miles an hour back to bed. What can
such a flier know of what flying can mean to the
community as a whole? What does he know of the
value of flying to students, to commerce, to national
wealth, to national defense? Vicki had to refute
that, which meant happy-go-lucky Bill had to
behave. Otherwise, theyd lose the anti-injunction
fight and/or the CAA might revoke Bills airport
permit.
Especially since those two planes buzzed them
again . . .
The big day, at the end of July, started out blazing
hot at eight A.M. Vicki brushed her silvery-gold hair
to make it shine, then slipped on her navy pleated
174

skirt and tailored white jacket, an outfit she liked to

wear for its crisp look. Vicki loathed low heels,
more appropriate or not, and put on high-heeled
white linen shoes. She ran down The Castle stairs in
high spirits, unafraid of what the day would bring.
Her spirits wobbled as her father handed over her
share of the morning mail. One envelope bore a
Civil Aeronautics Board address; she was almost
scared to open it. It came from Mr. MacDonald,
advising her about the two unknown planes which
had buzzed Avery Airport. They were traced, via
license numbers, to the Greensville airport and were
registered in the name of George Brown, the airport
owner there.
George Brown wasnt flying either of those
planes, Vicki thought. He rented them out to
somebody, thats what. Wish I could fly over there
right away! But I cant.
Vicki had a lively day ahead of her. She was well
prepared and the programVics circus, Ginny
called itstarted off with a bang, and amazed
Fairview. With police permission, Vicki taxied a
small Ercoupe in regular traffic, with its wings
folded back out of the way, and presently parked it
in a parking lot. Bill, meanwhile, sold rides to the
public: Half-Hour Hops for Half a Dollar, tickets
redeemable any clear day. Four hundred and fiftysix people subscribed. Bill offered free flights to
175

town citizens who wouldin a dual-control plane

take off, land, and manipulate controls themselves in
flight. Eighty men and women agreed to try it. The
university sent a speaker from its college flying
club; Civil Defense sent a speaker on the role of air
spotters. Vicki saw her father in the sidewalk crowd,
listening. Word spread and visitors poured into
town, all the sweltering afternoon. Mr. MacDonald
was there.
At the corner of Main and Vermilion, equipped
with a police permit, Ginny and her friends ran the
regular ticket counter. No reservations or
schedules, said Ginny to one and all. Just come
out to the field and get aboard.
Bill behaved like an angel all day. He washed his
perspiring face several times, even changed his
soaked shirts for fresh ones, and remembered not to
whistle or runall this for his public appearance.
The strain is killin me, he groaned to Vicki.
Dickie Brown and both Kramer boys, with
microphones borrowed from the Fairview radio
station, acted as roving speakers. They pointed out
to the people on the street that Avery Airport was
located a good safe distance out of town; that
Fairview needed more than one or even two airports.
Bill demonstrated, at the corner of Vermilion and
Lincoln, a neat agricultural plane which did spraying
and crop dusting. Backing up Bills talk was a red176

cheeked six-footer, a member of Flying Farmers of

America, which was started at Oklahoma A. & M.
Always check my cattle by plane and feed em
from the aira planes good for checkin pipe lines,
too. Mr. Corey was one of his interested audience.
Andrew Coreys presence brought back Vickis
worries with a rush. About half-past four she
decided that she had done her full duty, that she was
melted, and anyway she could wait no longer to
trace those two stunt fliers.
She drove over to Greensville alone, using the
family car, relaxing and cooling off as she drove.
The crude Greensville airport came into view.
Several planes were flying over itnot the stunters.
Vicki hoped they would be around. At least she
would speak to George Brown.
That old-time flier did not remember Vicki and
had no use for females around airports, anyway.
Im a student of Bill Averys, Vicki insisted for
the third time, and I wish youd tell me who those
wild fliers are whove been pestering him.
George Browns wind-burned face puckered into
a smile. Pretty good joke on Avery, hey? Je-hos-aphat, how those fellows can fly.
What fellows? See here, Mr. Brown, who hired
those fellows? Vicki said, making a bold guess.
I hired em. Yes, sir, I hired em. For a joke on
Bill Avery. The man was patently lying. He
177

pointed to two young men. Thats them over in the

T hangar.
Why, Mr. Brown! Why should you want to play
a mean joke on a nice boy like Bill? The man
floundered. Fliers usually stick together. You
know, I dont think you did it. I think someone else
got you to hire those boys.
Well. Could be.
Someone whos done you favorsshe was
thinking of Coreysomeone you cant afford to
offend by refusing.
Sort of, miss. Youre a good guesser.
Someone like, for instance, Mr. Corey or
Now, I didnt say it was Mr. Corey! You didnt
hear me mention any names, did you?
I only said for instance, Vicki soothed him.
But she thought: it may well have been Corey who
hired these stunt fliers to give Bills field a bad
name. Especially at this critical time. Mr. Brown,
Id appreciate it very much, if youd introduce those
two fliers to me.
Aw, they dont want to meet anybodyexcuse
me, but the big boss wouldnt like it Brown
clapped a large hand over his mouth, but Vicki
serenely showed no sign of having heard. Why,
sure, miss, Brown muttered.
He led over two young men. They seemed rough
and closemouthed. The taller boy stared at Vicki,
178

mumbled an excuse, and bolted. The other boy, Dick

Le Fort, seemed more of a solid citizen. He thawed
out as Vicki chattered about their aviation show
todaybut she could scarcely talk for excitement.
On this strangers right forearm was a tattoo
moreover, a tattoo similar to Spins except that this
one was not half effaced. Vicki tried not to stare at
Dick Le Forts arm, and tried to keep her voice from
trembling.
Now, honestly, what have you got against my
friend, Bill Avery?
Why, nothin. Ol George hired Jack and me to
buzz Avery Airport for a joke. Gave us good pay,
and that was that. And no questions asked, Vicki
silently added. Dick Le Fort seemed to be on the
level, though. Dont be sore, he said. How about
a nice cold coke, Miss Barr? I guess you worked
plenty hard today and I dont think this day is ever
goin to cool off.
They went into the office shack and Dick Le Fort
reached into the cooler for cokes. That gave Vicki
another look at his tattoo. It had the name of a
German town, in thick black Gothic letters, and
below it was a datea year not so long ago.
Vicki chattered about her recent solo flight, and
Dick Le Fort responded with the tale of his own
never-to-be-forgotten solo. After this hangar
flying, Vicki dared to express interest in his odd
179

tattoo.
Yeah, its sort of unusual. He held out his arm
under the electric light so Vicki could have a good
look. How different from that cagey Spin! He was
flattered at a pretty girls interest, and with Vickis
adroit questioning, he poured out the entire story.
I guess youll think I was pretty wild, but we got
so pent-up in wartime that we had to have some fun,
or wed bust. Le Fort smiled apologetically at
Vicki. Most of us didnt do anything really bad, not
like a fellow like Darnell, we only
Darnell!
Yeah. Ray Darnell. Ill never forget him. He was
a bad one. But as I said, we did a lot of crazy stuff
when we got leaves. One time we went explorin an
old wreck of a castle in the woods. Another time we
had a heck of a good time in the local village. Some
fellows wed thought were missin came back safe
and we celebrated. Anyhow, all of us marched into a
tattoo shop and told the man to fix us up with a
a
A souvenir, a design, Vicki supplied.
Thats it. Took the man so long, only three of us
waited around and had it done. Darnell and a fellow
named Curtis and me. Now look here at my arm.
The plane stands for the Air Force, the serpent was
the insignia of our outfit, and see, heres the town
and the year.
180

But the dagger? Vicki asked.

Dick Le Fort frowned. The dagger was strictly
Darnells idea. Ray was a crackpot. Secretive,
sullen, always brooding by himselfthat guy didnt
like nobody. I figured the dagger was just a crackpot
idea of his. But I found out different.
Awful bloody dagger, Vicki murmured. What
does it mean?
Hey, Miss Barr, what are you so curious for? Do
you know Ray Darnell?
Vicki swallowed. She didnt like to fib to this
accommodating young man, but she still couldnt
prove that Spin was Darnell. Spin might be the third
man, Curtis. UhIve heard about Darnell, she
said.
Mmmm. I dont think you or anybodyd know
Darnell by that name any more. Hes been missin
for a long time.
Vicki asked, What did Curtis look like?
Dick Le Fort stared out the window. Just a guy.
A nice guy. Curtis is dead.
Im sorry. Vicki hesitated. Isis Darnell
wanted for something?
And how! Hell do about ninety-nine years if the
military police ever catch him. The flier shoved
aside their empty coke bottles and stood up, ready to
leave.
Youve told me this much, you might as well tell
181

me the rest, Vicki coaxed. Come on. Please.

All right, but its not a very nice story. Thats
one reason I didnt want to tell it to a girl like you.
The young man sat down beside her but wouldnt
look at her. The other reason is its dangerous to
inform on Darnell. I got to be careful. How do I
know maybemaybe, you dont come from him?
I dont! I swear I dont!
Le Fort studied her. I believe you. All right.
Ysee, Ray Darnell is wanted for murder.
Oh, nono
What do you mean, no? I tell you, hes killed
three people. It wasnt no accident, either, young
Le Fort said somberly. There was this Air Force
major who was always disciplinin Darnell. It was
his job. Darnell sure hated that major. Second time
the major threw him in the clink Darnell swore hed
get even and talked sort of crazy. Said he didnt care
what happened to him himself, he was goin to get
the major. Major wasnt a bad guy at all, but even
the Army couldnt make Darnell act right. So he
stoleI didnt find this out for a long time after we
had our tattoos doneRay Darnell stole an Air
Force plane, a real heavy one, and picked a dark
night. I remember we heard guns, and later we heard
fire engines. That was the rescue squad. Next
mornin we found out a plane had fired incendiary
bullets point-blank through the thatched roof of the
182

majors house, and in the upstairs windows, and the

major and his wife and their kid were burned to
death in the wreck. The young man sighed.
And the plane? The pilot? Vicki breathed.
Got away. Ysee, it was a heavy bomber he
stole, and the major was billeted in a pretty flimsy
local cottage. Off by itself on a hilloh, Ray had it
all figured out! Ray Darnell can fly like a monkey
can climb a tree, he can do anything with a plane.
They found the bomber parked at the edge of the
forest but the pilot who stole er got away. Darnell
went A.W.O.L. on exactly the same night and never
came back. Draw your own conclusions.
Vicki stared again at the tattoo on Dick Le Forts
arm. So that bloody dagger cutting through the
plane meant Darnells secret dream of revenge, she
murmured.
Yep. Darnell told Curtis and me the dagger
stood for some nice-soundin cock-and-bull story.
But later we found out what I told you. Now you
know everything.
This was why Spin had destroyed the name of the
town, and the date, in the evidence he carried on his
arm. No wonder Spin-Darnell hated her. He knew
she suspected him and that she stood between
freedom and standing trial for desertion, theft, and
murder!
Thanks an awful lot, Mr. Le Fort. Maybe youll
183

come over and visit Bill Avery and me at Avery

Airport?
No, I expect not. Bill Avery dont want to see
the guy who made trouble for him. But you tell him
I honestly thought it was strictly a joke. Besides, I
got me a job in Canada, so I wont be around.
Thanks just the same.
Vicki drove home in the red sunset. The sky
seemed to her smeared with blood. That Spin and
Corey were in league against Bill Averyand
against herwas horrifyingly clear to Vicki by now.
She shivered in the July heat. She had to find out
certain factshad to prove with undeniable
evidence that these men were involved in an evil
conspiracy to put Bill out of business. The court
would not hand down its verdict on the injunction
for several days yet.
She had to find that code note.

184

CHAPTER XIII

One Mans Lie

The telephone rang in Bills office and Vicki

jumped to answer it. They were all tense, awaiting
word on the injunction suit. This was a womans
voice, though, asking for Spin Voight.
He isnt on the field, Vicki said. Spin had
driven downtown to the hardware store. May I take
a message?
Mr. Voight said I should always let him know if
he gets a special-delivery letter, the woman said
importantly.
He isnt here just now, Vicki repeated. Do you
wish to leave a message?
Well, this is Mrs. Keene, his landlady. Spin lives
at my boardinghouse. The woman cleared her
throat. You tell Spin a special-delivery letter came
for him just now. Fromwait till I put on my
glassesfrom Chicago, and up in the corner of the
envelope it says Land and Sky, Incorporated. Will
you tell him, miss?
185

I certainly will!
Wha-a-at? came out of the telephone.
I said Spin will receive your message, Mrs.
Keene. . . . Youre welcome.
When Spin returned to the field, Vicki relayed the
message as matter-of-factly as if shed never heard
of Land and Sky, Inc. Nor ever connected it with
Corey. The mechanic glared at Vicki and stalked
into the hangar without saying a word.
But if looks could kill, Id say Spin just
murdered me! Vicki told Bill.
Bill said coldly, Nobodys forcin you to
continue at Avery Airport if you dont like the
people here.
But dont you see? If Land and Sky is Corey,
then heres signs of collusion between Spin and
Corey! She had not yet ventured to tell Bill of a
connection between Spin and Darnell.
No, I dont see, Bill said shortly. Your
imagination is runnin wild.
Vicki was at her wits end. She didnt want to
desert Bill; anyone as blind and pigheaded as that
needed a friend despite himself. She didnt want to
change to a new flight instructor, now that she
neared the date for taking the license examination.
Daily she soloed within the practice area.
Bill was teaching her to read a pilots air chart as
they flew overland in the trainer. He warned her
186

always to be alert for other planes in the airthey

appeared so suddenly and came so fast. Bill
particularly warned her to watch out, when flying
cross-country, for air road hogs and smart-alecky
pilots who flew tight formations with youto fly a
good, safe distance out of their way. Bill and Vicki
made two short hops, to Greensville and back, with
Vicki acting as both pilot and navigator. They were
working up to the three-hour, three-hundred-mile
cross-country flight which Vicki would have to
perform, first dual with Bill and then solo for her
CAA exam. Vicki was sorry when she had to break
off her lessons again in order to return to her job.
One wonderful thing happened just as she was
packing to leave for her job. Bill drove over to The
Castle, and he was so excited that Vicki could
hardly make out what he was saying.
The Judge said inasmuchand in view of the
factwhy, honestly, Vicki those people you visited
were grumblin over little or nothin. So inasmuch

Inasmuch, therefore what?

Im tryin to tell you! Therefore considerin that
those two fliers who buzzed me didnt belong on my
fieldand inasmuch as pretty near the whole town
signed our petitionthanks to your publicity stuff,
Vicki! Gee, a lot of people didnt sign, too, I guess.
Ill expire if you dont reach the point.
187

Therefore the Judge ruled for my airport. See?

Refuses to grant the injunction! Yippee!
Vicki let out a sigh of relief. Smiling, she joggled
Bills elbow.
Wait a moment, she cautioned. She knew his
happy-go-lucky habit of assuming that everything
was dandy. Thats fine news, but are you telling me
all there is to tell? Bills handsome face went
blank. Vicki wanted to shake him. You know, I
mean Corey.
Oh, that. Bill admitted Corey did annoy him in
one way. Mr. Corey congratulated me on still bein
in business and doggone him, he said, Youre a
lucky kid that the Judge favored you. Huh, favored
me! How do you like Coreys nerve? Favoritism. I
told him Judge English didnt favor anybodyhim
or me or anybody. And Im not just a kid.
Good for you, Vicki encouraged him. Corey
needs to be told a thing or two, and not be allowed
to hide behind those high and mighty airs he gives
himself.
Favoritism, indeed! Was Corey going to start a
whispering campaign next against Bill? She fully
expected more troublethe promoter was too
aggressive and egotistical a man ever to admit
defeat, even a fair defeat.
Now, Vicki, Bill said placatingly. Maybe
youll be angry but I saw Mr. Coreys name
188

signed on the request for an injunction, along with

Parker and Crane and Di Salvi and the rest. But he
told meI saw Mr. Corey for a minute after the
court decision was announced
So Andrew Coreys name was on the injunction
plea. Vicki tugged at a strand of her fair hair. I
knew it.
Now listen! Mr. Corey told me he was only
incidentally involved. Incidentally, you see? He
really was neutral. Why, he even congratulated me
on winnin. Bill still spoke of Corey in the same
respectful and trusting tone he had always used.
Vicki at this point could cheerfully have drawn and
quartered William Avery. Blind! A great boy for
taking people at face value! Mr. Corey told me he
had to go along with his friends, but he spoke up for
us.
Excuse me, Bill, Vicki said in a kind of
hopeless, affectionate disgust. I have to catch the
train to Chicago in half an hour. Good-bye for now,
Bill. Ill do what I can for you in New York. Just
because youre honest yourself, you mustnt assume
everyone else is honest.
What in heck do you have to do for me? In New
York, of all places? Im doin fine, Bill said
blithely. Everythings fine now.
Thats what you think, Vicki muttered, and
went off to Chicago and her job.
189

Her job went pleasantly, even in the heat of

August, but uneventfully. Riding in commercial air
liners felt flat compared to the thrill of learning to
master a small plane. Then Vicki flew from Chicago
to New York, on flights originating out of New
York, for the next several days. After plenty of hard
work, Ruth Benson, the Chief Flight Stewardess,
placed Vicki on reserve. On her first free day in
New York, things began to happen.
Pete Carmody, the young newspaperman, called
her up and took her to lunch at a restaurant famous
for its steaks and its clientele of newspaper people.
Everybody in the restaurant, Vicki noticed, greeted
Pete with respect, in spite of his rakish clothes and
zany grin. He grinned chiefly at Vicki.
Of course you know Im still deliriously in love
with you, with those big, big eyes and that luscious
yaller hair.
I thought it was Jean Cox, Vicki teased back.
Sure, Jean too. Love you all. Democratic, thats
me.
Pete, lets be serious for once. I think I have a
news story for you. Of course its the business end
of aviation
Pete lifted his eyes interestedly. Whats up?
Thats no pun.
Vicki said something which was the fruit of a
weeks ruminating. Its about Andrew Corey. Big
190

name Corey, you know? I really think there may be

a scoop in this for you.
Just call me Scoop. Corey? Now youre
kidding.
Absolutely not. This is what I want us to do.
Now listen to me
Over chocolate ice cream Vicki outlined to Pete
Carmody a new suspicion and her plan. Pete glanced
at his wrist watch. He went to a telephone booth and
came back to say that they could get Vickis plan
into action the next afternoon at two oclock. Ill
say yourewhat? A cub reporter, otherwise youd
have no right to be present and hear confidential
information.
We-ell. I dont like to fib. Say this is my first
interviewat least thats true, as far as it goes. And
I promise you, Pete, I wont breathe a word of what
we learn.
The next morning Vicki received two letters. She
had been away from Fairview for almost two weeks,
and in her absence things had been brewing. First, as
always, Vicki opened the letter in her mothers
dashing handwriting. She absorbed the news that the
Wing Scout packet had arrived, containing flight
manuals, charter, and information for the brand-new
Wing Scouts, and Ginny and seven other girls were
wild for Vicki to start them offthen came to this:
Everyone Ive spoken with is somewhat
191

surprised at Andrew Coreys change of heart. He has

gotten one leg down off his high horse and is now
wooing small business. Dad remarked that Corey
Field must have incurred a large debt for all its
buildings, equipment, and salaries, and it still is not
officially open for full-time operations. Dad said
some other things but that is just too much
economics for me. To be specific, dear, Mr. Corey is
inviting small local business people and local
farmers to Corey Field, and offering lower,
attractive rates. I thought you might be interested in
this news.
It was bad newsfor Bill. It simply meant that
Corey was trying to lure Bills clients away from
him. It could put Avery Airport out of existence, for
the only business Bill had was small business. Vicki
realized now that Corey had not only disapproved
in that fatherly manner!of Bills lower service,
cargo rates, faster nonsked flights and no tie-down
fee but had strongly resented them. Why? Must be
because they ate into the business of his own field,
big and rich as it was. Well, Coreys new move
merely confirmed Vickis new suspicion. With
Petes help, she would either disprove itor clinch
it.
A P.S. at the end of her mothers letter was
scrawled in Ginnys hand in pencil. Vicki guessed
that Ginny had added it in haste, so that their mother
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would not read these words:

Found your code note in your blue slacks
pocket. Buried in the back of your closet under a
garment bag which Mother wanted. Am keeping
note safe for you in my own pocket, day and night
with my hand on it. Dad says, small business or not,
Mr. Corey is putting most of his eggs in the one
basket of that one contract with Trans-America
Airlines. Love, G.
Vicki breathed blessings on her dependable
young sister. She tore open Bills letter and read, or
rather deciphered:
Dear FussbudgetSure miss you around here.
Mr. Corey is giving me a lot of competition all of a
sudden. He even slashed his prices below mine and
thats not good. Corey says people complained he
was a bandit, his prices were too high, so hes
accommodating them. But I think its peculiar,
because Corey has bigger overhead expenses than I
have. How can he afford to match my low rates
based on one hangar and one mechanic? And me the
one pilot. Now I ask you, Vicki.
Mr. MacDonald was around yesterday and he
said dont worry, because CAA regulations and rate
rules will keep Mr. Corey within fair trade practices.
Seems CAA will limit Mr. Corey in certain things.
Mr. Mac also said CAA wont stand for monopoly.
Vicki was mighty glad that Mr. MacDonald and
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the CAA were on the job in Fairview. Here in New

York she had her own plan for helping Bill.
That afternoon at two Vicki and Pete Carmody
began their interview with Mr. Bateson. Mr. Bateson
was a quiet, gray, easy-mannered man; he was
public-relations head of Trans-America Airlines. His
office at the top of a skyscraper, with its hazy blue
view of all New York and its rivers, was plastered
with photos of planes and fliers. Mr. Bateson
listened as attentively to Vicki as to Pete, though
Vicki was glad to let Pete do most of the talking.
The newspaperman was skilled at these sometimes
ticklish question-and-answer interviews and also he
knew Mr. Bateson fairly well.
I understand, sir, and in fact its general public
knowledge that Trans-America Airlines has planned
to reroute its long-hop passenger planes, avoiding
crowded Chicago airports and using Corey Field in
Fairview instead. Is that right, Mr. Bateson?
Thats right, Pete.
Is it still true, sir?
The airline official looked quizzical. Ahno.
Its no longer true. We do not plan to use Corey
Field. How did you learn that?
This young lady told methat is, Miss Barr
lives in Fairview and flies, and shes an observant
girl. She put two and two together.
Mr. Bateson grinned like a youngster. So two
194

and two yielded you a big piece of news, Miss Barr.

This really is big news, you understand, but its not
for release, not yet. Keep it under your hats. Pete
nodded and Vicki saw him mark his notes Not for
Release and underlined that. Vicki felt stunned by
the news that Corey did not have the vaunted
contracthis field was not to be used by the big
airline. Why, he had staked his entire airport on this
contract!
May I ask a question, Mr. Bateson? she said.
You see, Mr. Corey told everyone in Fairview that
he has a contract with Trans-America. Thats why
people invested with him, she added silently.
Corey shouldnt have said that. We had a
tentative, verbal understanding. But at no time did
we have a written contract. Mr. Bateson frowned.
I dont wish to sling mud at Andrew Corey. Hes a
man of enormous energy, he accomplishes big
projects, he tramples down obstacles like a
bulldozer. For a man like that, a verbal or a written
contract may seem merely a quibble. Corey has
tremendous enthusiasm and confidence, you know. I
suppose he was positive he could talk us into a
written, a definite and binding, contract.
But you are not giving Mr. Corey any contract,
Pete said. Can you tell us why, sir?
Very simple. Coreys runways are too short for
our big ships to land and take off safely. He assured
195

us that hed obtain more land and lengthen those

runways to forty-five hundred feet but he hasnt
done soso far. Corey cant even give us threethousand-foot runways. All he has done is promise
andwell, stall for time. Mr. Bateson shrugged.
Pete asked, What is Trans-America doing in
respect to Corey Field?
We cant wait for Andrew Corey indefinitely.
We pressed him as to how soon he could furnish
extra acreage. Our president was obliged to tell Mr.
Corey that unless he can show usnot paved
runways, mind you just the additional land thats
required, by September fifteenth, a month from now,
we will have to take our business elsewhere.
When did Corey learn this? Vicki managed to
ask.
It wasahat least a month ago, Id say. About
the beginning or middle of July.
Vicki hastily counted back. That would be about
the time Mr. Corey had been a passenger on her
Federal plane flying back from New York to
Chicago. Hed been so tense and upsetso this was
why! Trans-America had just warned him that he
would lose his all-important chance for a contract
unless he obtained more land. Bills land! Right
after that had come the injunction attempt to force
Bill out of business. Oh, it was clear now! . . . All
Coreys advice to Bill not to offer such low prices
196

to sell out to him at a tantalizing profitto come

take a pilots job at Corey Fieldacting as if Bill
were an incompetent kid and he himself a wise,
adult benefactor. The hypocrisy of the man!
Vicki thought of a puzzling angle. How did
Corey happen to choose such a limited site for his
airport in the first place, Mr. Bateson? Mr. Corey is
experienced in airports; he knows any airport needs
long-range planning and space to expand for years
ahead.
A good question. I asked Andrew Corey the
same thing. He felt that this location was the only
practical one and especially the one safe one for the
residents of Fairview. It was true, Vicki thought to
herself. Besides, as I told you, Corey never
recognizes obstacles. Consider the mans past
successes! Corey is accustomed to accomplishing
what he wants by sheer force and drive of
personality. Corey never anticipated any difficulty in
buying adjoining land, never dreamed anything or
anyone could stop him.
Pete and Vicki exchanged glances. So Corey
wasnt primarily a crookhed started out at a
gallop, careless of telling the exact truth, became
desperate, and now he was driven to dishonesty.
Not that that excused Corey for trying to ruin and
wipe out Bill! That was gangster tactics. It didnt
excuse him for soliciting and taking Fairview
197

investors money on the basis of misrepresentation

and windy promises, either. Vicki thought of the
troubles that had dogged Bill ever since Spin had
taken the job as mechanic at Avery Airport. Had
Corey hired Spin towhat? And how much did
Corey know of Spin-Darnells dark past? Vicki
swallowed her horror and indignation; she must not
let herself be sidetracked but stick to the subject, for
she might not get another chance to talk with this
executive of Trans-America. She must keep
absolutely unemotional and think clearly if she were
to help Bill.
Another thing, Mr. Bateson, Vicki said with an
effort. What do you know of a company called
Land and Sky, Inc.? I believe its registering officer
is J. R. Smithson.
The Trans-America officials eyebrows went up.
You certainly are an alert young woman! How
did you know about them?
Iummdug em up.
Mr. Bateson laughed at her reply, but Pete looked
sober.
Yes, I can tell you a little about Land and Sky,
Mr. Bateson said to Vicki. They sent me a man
called Gerald Hoodbut I cant tell you much.
Gerald Hood said he was acting as agent for J. R.
Smithson, but Id never heard of either person.
Pete suggested that Gerald Hood and J. R.
198

Smithson might be the same man.

My guess is not, Pete. We checked on Hood
through the Better Business Bureau and he does act
as a kind of freelance business agentmaintains a
small office here in New York. Works on a
commission basis. A small catch-as-catch-can
operator.
Has he a good reputation? Vicki murmured.
Ahfair. Perhaps not too particular about his
jobs. Never mind Hood. Hes simply a paid gobetween, almost a messenger, you see. Hood does
what hes told and doesnt know much.
Vicki relaxed for a moment in her chair, satisfied
to accept Mr. Batesons word on Gerald Hood. The
message Hood carried from J. R. Smithson to TransAmerica was what mattered.
Gerald Hood came to us here at Trans-America
about two or three weeks agowhen Bill was in
imminent danger of being wiped out by injunction,
Vicki figuredand made a tentative offer to sell us
Corey Field and also a large, undeveloped field
adjoining Coreys. I believe its called Avery
Airport. By purchasing both fields, we would have
sufficiently long, in fact, very long runways.
Butbuthow could he? He had no right!
Vicki struggled to recover her poise. Mr. Bateson, I
know William Avery who owns Avery Airport. I
can tell you that it is not and never has been for
199

sale!
The airline official sat back and stared for several
minutes out the high window. Vicki felt sick. Who
was this man Hood? Who was his employer
Smithson of Land and Sky, who privately offered
Bills field for sale? Without authority! She had long
suspected Corey of being connected with Land and
Sky, but she never had been completely certain.
Whoever Hood and Smithson were, they must know
Avery Airport wasnt for sale or could easily find it
out. Otherwise, they were plainly crooks. Another
alternativean ugly onewas that Corey and
Smithson were connectedthat Corey had told
Smithson hed soon put Bill out of business with the
injunction, so lets go ahead and sell Avery Airport
to Trans-America for a fat price. As for wanting to
sell Corey Field as well, that made sense. Corey
would be eager to unload his own airfield which was
losing money. If she knew Corey, he probably had
some devious scheme in the back of his mind to
regain control, sold or not sold, once Trans-America
acted to throw the two airports together.
I see. I see, Mr. Bateson was muttering. Not
very pleasant, is it? Well, Miss Barr, Im glad we
sent Hood packing. I felt no confidence in the man.
What he didnt seem to realize is that TransAmerica is an airline and it does not buy or operate
airfields.
200

Vicki sighed in relief. Pete scribbled away as fast

as he could in his reporters notebook. What about
this Land and Sky, sir?
I dont know, Pete. Hood said he represented
Land and Sky, but Id never heard of them before
or since. Odd thing. After I refused Hoods offer, he
simply faded away and Ive never received any
further word from Hood, Land and Sky, or this
Smithson. Thats not businesslike. In fact, nobodys
heard of them. Whoever Land and Sky are, theyve
faded out of the picture.
Vicki wasnt so sure. Only last week Spin had
received that special-delivery letter from Land and
Sky, hadnt he? Spin and Land and Sky . . . Spin and
Corey . . . Corey and Land and Sky. How were the
three related? Suppose this: Corey secretly sent Spin
to Bills field to wreck Bills business and throw it
into Coreys ownership . . . Land and Sky offered
Bills business for sale as if it owned Bills land . . .
both Corey and Land and Sky aimed to own Bills
land. Then Corey and Land and Sky were the same!
She still had no idea who J. R. Smithson was but
that could wait for the moment. Corey had dropped
her envelope, addressed to Land and Sky, on the
planeit was no one else! The law of averages was
with her. It was inarguable now to Vicki that Corey,
acting in part through Spin, was out to destroy Bill.
As if from a long distance she heard Pete protesting
201

to the Trans-America official.

But this is important news. You just said its
final enough to print, Mr. Bateson. Then why cant
my newspaper print it?
Pete, I didnt say your paper cant print it. I said
to be discreet, go slowly, watch out for libel suits.
Ask your editor to consider whether he wants to
reveal a scandal which might resolve itself.
How can what Coreys done blow over? Vicki
asked indignantly.
Mr. Bateson smiled, a thin-lipped smile.
Powerful men like Corey often get off scot free.
Im not defending him, by any means. But you want
to be careful about destroying reputationsnot only
Coreys but his fields. Remember that a lot of your
fellow citizens have put their savings into Corey
Field. We dont want to hurt the reputation of the
aviation industry as a whole, either. There are less
destructive ways to bring Andrew Corey to heel,
Miss Barr.
Less sure ways, Vicki thought anxiously. Andrew
Corey and Spin-Darnell might wriggle out of their
guilt and destroy Bill yet.
The newspaper editor, when Pete consulted him
with Vicki listening, repeated the same thing Mr.
Bateson had said. The editor, Mr. Fernandez, was a
tired-looking man of long experience, hard-bitten
but fair. He pointed out that out-of-town papers
202

would reprint their story and the scandal would

become nationwide.
Dont be a hothead, Pete. Ill tell you what. You,
too, Miss Barr. Well call up Corey long-distance.
Tell him weve got the dope on him and see what
the man has to say for himself. All right? Fair
enough?
Pete picked up a telephone and put the call
through to Fairview. Vicki waited tensely. John
Fernandez switched a key control, putting two other
telephones onto the open wire to Fairview. He
handed one phone to Vicki, and she and the editor
listened while Pete talked.
The reporter scarcely stated his question when
Corey lost his temper at the other end of the wire.
His voice sounded loud and explosive.
What do you mean, you pupprying into my
confidential business affairs! Ill sue you! Ill sue
you and your paper for this!
Sorry, sir, but this is a matter in the public
interest, and we would like you to confirm or deny
this story, Pete said on a warning note, before we
print it.
Youre not going to print it! I will not confirm
any such smear story! You squash that story! Do
you hear me? I order you to
Do you deny it, then, Mr. Corey? Pete asked.
Vicki heard an electric silence at the promoters
203

end of the wire. When Corey spoke again, his voice

was choked and low. Dont crowd me. Im not
ready to make any statement at this time.
Then you deny Trans-Americas statement?
Pete repeated evenly.
Ill neither affirm nor deny! Coreys voice
shouted. Again silence. I dont deny there is some
truth in Mr. Batesons statements. But the facts
arent the way you put them. Youre interpreting
them incorrectly! Youre placing me in a bada
false light!
Fernandez, listening, made a gesture with his
hand. Pete nodded. Well, Mr. Corey, were
telephoning you to learn your side of the story.
Were trying to be fair. What would you like to say
for publication?
Not now! No publication now! Why, itll ruin
meruin my airport and my investors! Corey was
beginning to plead. I admit theres some truth in it
and I swear Ill give you, or my lawyer will give
you, the complete story the minute its possible. But
be fair, man! Dont force me into the headlines
while the situation is fluid and touchy! Give me a
fighting chance to work things outI can still sell
my field or its services and recoup my losses. But
only if you dont jeopardize me and all those
investors! Im not licked, I tell you!
The editor switched off Petes phone and
204

switched on his own, to speak. Very well, Mr.

Corey. This is John Fernandez, city editor, speaking.
Well respect your privacy while the situation is still
indecisive. We dont want to print anything
prematurely. . . . Yes, yes, were giving you a
fighting chance. . . . All right, sir, well be in touch
with you again on this. Good-bye.
The situation was not a bit indecisive to Vickis
mind. Still, she must abide by the newspapers
decision, and by her pledge of silence given to the
airline. Corey had won his demands again.
She was back in Fairview two mornings later.
The first thing her family told her was that Corey
Field was having its formal opening for full
operations that afternoon. Corey had announced it
rather suddenly. His field was draped in colorful
bunting, and if Vicki listened, she could faintly hear
a brass band playing way out there. Corey had
promised a gala affair and had invited Fairviews
forty thousand citizens and those from surrounding
towns. Shops were closing for the afternoon so
everyone could attend.
Bill called up. He was going, Corey had promised
him a seat on the platform for the ceremonies. Corey
had very charmingly included Vicki in Bills
invitation.
Vicki declined the invitation. She knew only too
205

well why Corey was hastily opening his airport and

putting on such a big show. Andrew Corey was
trying to cover up the truth. Sheer bluff and lies. She
didnt care to be on hand to applaud his deception.
When her parents and Ginny set off, all dressed
up for the big gala opening, Vicki took out paper
and pencil and the code note. The Castle was
deserted and quiet; even Freckles was dozing out on
the terrace. Now was her chance, at last, to decipher
this maddening, typed code:
YENOM EROME SUDLU OCGNI YRTPE
WYAWE HTNIS ILRIG NOOSE CNAHC ONXXX.

EKLLI

Vicki stared at it, remembering how YENOM

turned around spelled the word money. Shed try
turning every word around. Patiently she wrote it
out, thus:
MONEY EMORE ULDUS INGCO EPTRY
EWAYW SINTH GIRLI ESOON CHANC XXXNO.

ILLKE

She stared and stared at it until her eyes ached.

Here and there a word seemed to pop out at her
GIRL, CHANCE, NOor was it illusory? Was it in
another language? The distant sound of the brass
band upset her so much that she could not think. Try
another tacksomething easier.
206

Vicki studied the note for the physical appearance

of its typing. The L dropped below the line and the S
was broken.
If she could find the typewriter on which this
code note had been written, it might lead her to the
person who had written the note.
The only way to stop Corey from getting away
with his swindlethe only way to safeguard Bills
fieldwas to prove the truth about Corey. She was
convinced that the proof she sought was contained
in the code note which she held in her hand.

207

CHAPTER XIV

The Masked Flier

Every time Vicki looked at bill these days she

longed to tell him Corey lied about having the
Trans-America contract. Bill was in danger. Corey
still had until September fifteenth to furnish the
extra land for Trans-America, and Corey was not a
man to be stopped easily. If he was blocked in one
path, a man as determined as Corey would find
another way. Oh, Bill, if I could only tell you!
Vicki thought. But she could not. She had given her
word. The best she could do was to drop hints and
warnings. As usual, Bill was too carefree to listen.
The tension between Spin and herself had grown
almost unbearable. Vicki was at Avery Airport
daily, flying in the murky, lowering skies of late
August. She saw thunderheads off in the distance
but (when Bill wasnt around to forbid it) went up in
order to be ready for her flight test on September
first. She had already taken her preliminary flight
test, to qualify her for cross-country flying. With her
208

instructor Bill riding with her, she flew the long,

triangular, cross-country triangle, including two
airports besides her home field, as CAA required.
The trip was no fun, with Bill prattling away about
the great gala opening of Corey Field, and Vicki
heavyhearted and silent. Technically she did well at
the controls, and not too badly in charting her flight
plan and staying on course. Bill praised her when
they landed at home field. Spin, as usual, was
indifferent and hateful.
Spin resented, each morning, towing a trainer
plane out of the hangar to the main strip for Vickis
use. It was part of Spins job and Bill blithely said,
striding away, Spin will take care of you, pigeon.
It infuriated Spin, too, that Vicki wouldnt take her
plane up, or even out of the hangar, until shed
checked it over herself, meticulously. First, she
unfastened the cowling and checked the Cubs
engine. Machinery wasnt hard to handle once youd
learned how; it worked so logically and reasonably.
Just sense. Next, she checked over the cockpit
controls, then circled the plane on foot checking the
control fittings, tires, fabric, and tail wheel. Just a
customary line check.
Spin muttered, Gee, what fussbudgets dames
are!
Im not fussy, Im only using common sense. I
dont want to fall out of the sky.
209

Well, hurry up. I got other things to do and

places to go today besides towin this plane out for
you.
Wherere you going, Spin? Vicki asked
casually. He didnt answer. She felt satisfied with
the plane but not with Spin. She didnt dare provoke
him too far. She could feel his hatred for her as
palpably as a hot breath on the back of her neck.
At least her flights went well. Since her free time
was limited by her job, Bill consented to Vickis
flying her cross-country solo rather sooner than
planned. She was ready. On a clear, burning-hot
morning Vicki rose just after dawn. Her mother
insisted on getting up, too, to pack a lunch for her.
Her father and Ginny were up, yawning, to give her
a send-off.
Did you know, Ginny said brightly, that a
pilot ten thousand feet in the air can see sunrise ten
minutes before people on the ground below him see
it?
Well, youre not going to see it, young lady!
said Professor Barr. One pilot in the family is
nerve-racking enough.
No more nerve-racking, said Vickis mother,
than driving a car. Do you want mayonnaise or
mustard on these ham sandwiches, dear?
Ah, Vic, take me along? Please? Why wont
you? Ginny pleaded.
210

Vicki chanted, I would if I could but I cant.

She did not feel as untroubled as she sounded.
Ginny, Im still a student pilot, and in order to
carry you, youd have to have a private pilot license
at least. Or youd have to be a piece of luggage. But
as soon as I get my privates license
I absolutely forbid their father started
sleepily. I will not tolerate But the others had an
attack of giggles, and rushed Vicki out the front
door and on her way.
The cross-country solo was a long flight in
triangular formation. Home airfield was one point,
Deer Park Airport way across the state was the
second, and Greensville Airport was the third. Vicki
screwed up her courage; she had never before flown
so far on her own. The trip out was wonderful.
Looking down for the landmarks which her chart
indicated (and which shed sighted while on this
route with Bill) was like playing a game. Keeping
on the alert for other planes was wearing, though.
The little plane needed only the gentlest nudging of
the pedals and the slightest touch on the stick. The
ship stayed at exactly fifteen hundred feet for almost
twenty minutes. However, Vicki found it was quite a
different thing to land and take off at a strange
airport, all by herself, than to do that on home base.
Landing and taking off again at Greensville Airport
went easily. Vicki didnt exactly have trouble
211

coming down at Deer Park Airport, where she had

landed only once before, with Bill, but it took fast,
straight thinking to manage in a strange flight
pattern. There she rested a bit and visited with the
airport ownerfliers custom. At noon she took off
again. The air was smooth despite midday and a
twelve-mile-per-hour wind blowing. She looked
down on green woods already turning rusty from the
drought. Once she mistook an intersection below
and nearly lost her way. Bills markers steered her
back on course. In another moment Greensville
Airport showed up on the horizon.
The afternoon sun was in Vickis eyes as she
came in for a landing, so that at first she didnt
recognize the two men. Andrew Corey and Spin
Voight! The promoter and the mechanic seemed to
be arguing. Spin was white-faced with anger. He
was aggressively doing the talking. Vicki climbed
out of her plane in time to see Corey reluctantly
hand Spin a slip of paper. As she walked toward the
operations shack, to speak to the airport owner,
Corey and Spin saw her.
She hurried, wanting to get out of their sight. The
expressions on their faces as she passed them
frightened her. Were they following her? Breathless,
she ducked into the shack where she had talked with
Dick Le Fort. George Brown glanced up from his
desk in surprise.
212

Whats the trouble with you, Miss Barr? You

sick or something?
She ventured to turn around. Looking out through
the open door to the field, she saw Coreys private
plane taxi for a take-off. She heard the familiar
noisy rattle of Bills yellow car. So they had traveled
here separatelythat meant secretly. And they
certainly were leaving in a hurry!
Vicki commented on their hurry to George
Brown, with a little laugh. Do they come over here
often?
I aint seen the mechanic here before. I know
who he is, works for Bill Avery. Never around here
before this.
What, never? Or hardly ever?
Wait a sec. The old flier wrinkled up his
leathery face, pondering. I did see em together one
time before and I says to myself, Boy, are they a
funny combination! But they aint been here since
around the time Mr. Corey sent me some new
business. Bout the time I heard Bill got himself this
real good mechanic.
Oh, yes, well Vicki pretended a lack of
interest. Do you happen to know a Mr. J. R.
Smithson? No? Not important Say, Mr. Brown,
do you know Im making my cross-country solo
today!
Good for you, girlie. I seen you land and take off
213

this morning, but I didnt know this was your big

day. Good luck to you the rest of the way!
A simple-minded, trusting man, Vicki thought,
without a spark of curiosity in his head. She stood
beside her plane trying to put together what she
knew and what she had unpleasantly discovered just
now. Corey and Spin had met here once before
and those two were not likely to meet by accident,
for Spin had no business here. They had met shortly
after Spin started to work at Avery Airport. Why
had they met? To communicate, obviously. Why
hadnt they used the telephone or the mail or met in
Fairview? Was their business together so private that
they couldnt risk public communications? Unless
they used a code note . . . They and possibly J. R.
Smithson. Vickis heart seemed to flop over. Why
hadnt they met at Greensville Airport again? Too
public probably. Why had they met here today?
Discouraged, Vicki clambered back into the
plane, slammed its door, and waved for a man on the
field to spin her propeller. Up she went again,
concentrating too hard on flying to get the puzzle
about Corey figured out. What were the two men
arguing about? What had Corey handed Spin on that
slip of paper?
At Avery Airport she made a neat three-point
landing. Bill came running and cheering. He hugged
her, and wrote this newest victory into Vickis
214

logbook.
With a little polishin off youre qualified to take
your privates test! What are you lookin so glum
about? You ought to be proud and happy!
Vicki told him of seeing Spin and Corey together
at Greensville Airport.
What of it? Spin took my car to go over to
Bloomington, to borrow a piece of farm machinery
for Dwight. Weve been tryin to get over there and
pick it up all week. I spose Spin figured hed drive
a little further and take a look at Greensville Airport.
He never saw it before.
I suppose Spins meeting Corey over there was a
coincidence? They had an awful lot to say to each
other.
You cant prove anything just because you saw
em together.
After that day, Vicki worked in dead earnest on
the code letter. She showed it, in their blue room, to
Ginny who could not make sense out of it, either.
Vicki studied what she had so far. First, the original
message:
YENOM EROME SUDLU OCGNI YRTPE
WYAWE HTNIS ILRIG NOOSE CNAHC ONXXX.

EKLLI

Then she had worked out the message in reverse,

because the word YENOM, reversed, spelled
215

money.
MONEY EMORE ULDUS INGCO EPTRY
EWAYW SINTH GIRLI ESOON CHANC XXXNO.

ILLKE

Reverse . . . reverse . . . Money was the first word

of the messagereverse itmoney was the last
word. Maybe not just the individual word but the
entire message should be reversed! Vicki worked it
out, dropping the three Xs which were surely nulls
or special symbols. It spelled:
NOCHA NCESO ONGIR LISIN THEWA YWILL KEEPT
RYING COULD USEMO REMON EY.

Where did she go from here? There was

something odd. Every word was five letters long.
Why, that alone was artificial! It meant thatthat
Suddenly it dawned upon her that the message
probably had been run together, then arbitrarily
chopped into five-letter units. It also had been run
backward. For instance, if you took the sentence
XXXXY ADSEN DEWSI YADOT, reversed and chopped
it that way, youd get TODAY ISWED NESDAY, and
finally, today is Wednesday. She had the key now
and could pick out words here and there in the
message.
As Ginny watched over her shoulder, Vicki
216

deciphered the coded message. In a few minutes she

had the complete message. Vicki was horrified. The
message read:
No chance soon. Girl is in the way. Will keep
trying. Could use more money.
Ill show this to Bill as soon as he comes back
from his three-day trip to St. Louis. Now hell
believe me!
Vicki had a written examination to go through
and pass before she could take her flight test.
Vicki studied the Flight Instruction Manual, and
Questions and Answers for Private Pilots.
Wind directions in weather report broadcasts are
directions from which the wind is blowing. True.
In flight, air speed is decreased by any
headwind. False. Winds affect ground speed only.
If, while waiting for take-off clearance, you
receive a flashing white light, you should return to
the starting point on the airport. True.
On September first Malcolm MacDonald gave
Vicki her flight test. With eleven hours of solo
flying, plus twenty-five more with Bill, she had the
required thirty-six hours in the air. Vicki was a little
nervousbut did everything smoothly and
correctly. The regional CAA inspector told her at
once that she had passed her flight test, though he
personally had no authority to issue a license. Then
Mr. Mac gave Vicki a verbal test; he was friendly
217

but strict.
Corey and Spin-Darnell were in her thoughts
constantly. She kept the code note, and its
deciphering, in her pocket for safekeeping. She was
only waiting for Bills return to show it to him.
As for the impatient Wing Scouts, Vicki simply
could not give them any time now. Ginny
sympathized and held a preliminary meeting at The
Castle. Vicki often spent her lunch hour out on the
flight line, munching a sandwich while giving her
student Ginny a cockpit check-out.
Vicki still felt she needed to practice in the air.
She still had a few precious days free from her job,
so she flew every day she could. Her purse grew
thin, but Vicki figured it was worth it.
She took the Cub out alone one overcast morning.
Bill, who had returned just an hour ago, spun the
prop for her. It was Spins day off. The mechanic
could not be spared on Sundays or even Saturdays,
when the airport was busiest.
Watch the weather, Vicki, Bill warned her.
Before it starts to storm, you turn around and sit
down. I mean sit down on the earth, you landlubber!
Thats a dirty-lookin sky.
Okay, boss. Vicki smiled, waved, taxied, and
up she went, rising into the sky.
The air felt surprisingly cool this morning, and a
little rough. Autumn was on its way, all right. She
218

banked and turned, heading out of the flight pattern.

After reaching proper altitude over the open practice
area, she executed a steep climbing turn. Then she
glided back down and practiced stalls and spins. The
parachute harness felt a bit clumsy but she was
required to wear it for spins. She was skillful by
now, and confident.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a plane came shooting
and humming toward her. Vicki remembered Bills
warning about spook planes materializing in mid-air
like this and flying too close. The other plane turned
sharply behind her and rose, flying just above her
right wing tip, exposing its license number. It dived
and then roared up under her left wing. She couldnt
see its crazy pilot. What was he doing? Playing with
her? Tormenting her? It was a pretty dangerous
joke!
Vicki sent her little planes nose upward and
climbed as fast as she could to escape. He climbed
right after her. Her trainer was smaller and lighter
than the sizable Bellanca, which the other pilot
handled as deftly as if it were a childs spinning top.
Vicki angrily dipped her wings at him to signal Let
me alone! The other pilot mockingly dipped his
wings back at her and increased his speed. Vicki
didnt scare easily, but she wasnt foolhardy enough
to stay upstairs with this madman pursuing her. She
turned to head back to the home field.
219

As she turned in a steep bank, Vicki looked for

the spook in the overcast sky but could not see him.
He must be near. She sensed a vibration, heard a
grinding roar. He must be somewhere below,
climbing up fast directly under her ship. Theyd
collide! Vicki again banked her plane to look below
and had a stunned split-second glimpse into the
other cockpit. Under the fliers cap there was no
face, only a long weird black mask. Then she
experienced a spine-tingling shock.
A terrific blinding force almost twisted her trainer
over on its back. In a panic she fought to put the
plane back into level flightthen saw that her right
wing was chewed and badly mangled. The Bellanca,
undamaged, streaked away. The pilot hadnt
estimated wrong! Hed seen her, overcast or not!
The damage to the wing had been done deliberately.
Vicki fought to keep her plane from falling into a
spin. The controls out there on the right wing were
almost completely broken. She used all her strength
to keep the stick to the left, holding up the crippled
right wing, bracing her arms and legs together to
hold the stick. She needed help. But Bill was on the
ground and home base was five minutes away!
She lowered the nose and delicately edged into a
slow turning glide toward home. Her heart pounded
so hard that she gasped for breath. If the right wing
collapsed, she would be thrown into a violent fatal
220

spin. Small chance to bail out in a spin. She wore a

parachute but shed never jumped before. Should
she bail now while she still had a chance? Vicki
looked down eight hundred feeta long distance to
jump with only a handful of silk. Was eight hundred
feet enough altitude to give the parachute time to
open? In her terror she couldnt remember for
certain. Better try to land. Her eyes were fixed on
the crumpled right wing. She prayed that it wouldnt
collapse. . . .
She limped in above Avery Airport, disregarding
any semblance of flight pattern, and saw Bill
running, clearing the runways for her. If she could
get down without cracking upif she could land
without the ship bursting into flames Must keep
my head. Must think straightIm finished if I
dont, she told herself over and over again.
Easing the throttle back, she maneuvered and
prayed, and nosed the crippled plane down still
further to maintain her glide. The damaged wing
buckled back several inches. She held the stick
tightly to keep the plane as level as possible. The
ground rose up ominously to meet her. She
maneuvered. The wheels jarred as they touched.
Then everything was unbelievably motionless. Vicki
crept out of the plane, shaking and crying.
Bill grabbed her and with his other hand turned
off the ignition.
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Vicki! Pigeon! Are you all right? Who hit you?

SpinSpin Voightin a Bellanca. He wore a
mask butbut it was Spin! Who else would want to
kill me?
Bill half carried her back to the office shack. He
sat her down and gave her some water. When Vicki
could speak she pulled the code note out of her
pocket and snowed it to Bill. She told him why
Spin-Darnell wanted her out of his way. She was the
one person who could turn him in to stand trial for
murder. Murder by the same technique he had used
on Vicki just now. No, Corey had no part in this, she
insisted. Corey wanted Bills land, but Corey wanted
nothing from Vicki Barr.
Bill looked at her with an entirely changed
expression in his eyes. It was as if he saw her clearly
for the first time. Bill had finally waked up to the
truth.

222

CHAPTER XV

Vicki Sets a Trap

Vicki tried to minimize and silence the story of her

near accident. She didnt want her parents worried.
Bills field already had too many so-called charges
of carelessness leveled at it. To people who had
seen the plane with the crippled wing limping along
yesterday, Vicki and Bill gave nonchalant answers.
They did not mention the masked flier. There were
two exceptions, their intimates Ginny and Guy
English and the CAA inspector.
Toward Spin, Vicki and Bill managed to behave
exactly as they always did. Spin, too, pretended to
know nothing of what had happened. He grumbled
quite convincingly about having to repair the wing
and told Vicki, Im surprised you got down safe.
Id have bet you couldnt do it.
You never can tell about people, can you, Spin?
What do you mean by a crack like that?
Just a saying. What are you so jumpy for?
Whos jumpy? I aint jumpy. Why dont you
223

beat it, huh?

Mr. MacDonald called Vicki downtown to Judge
Englishs chambers, to talk to her about the Bellanca
which struck her. Of course Vicki and Bill had
reported the accident at once, and identified the
plane by description and license number. The CAA
man immediately inspected the injured trainer. Vicki
was worried lest this accident delay her license,
and Bill was worried, too.
The Judge said little, but he was grave and
thoughtful as Mr. MacDonald talked.
Miss Barr, we traced that Bellanca and it
belongs to John Chesley. Vicki knew Jo-Anns
uncle, who was a thoroughly kind man who
wouldnt harm a fly. Mr. Chesley was at work
yesterday morning at the time of your accident. A
dozen people attest to that.
The Judge leaned forward. Someone borrowed
John Chesleys plane? Or stole it?
Yes, sir. Someone familiar with Corey Field,
say, a mechanic, borrowed the Bellanca by taking
it out without John Chesleys knowledge or
permission. Returned it slightly damaged but fixed it
up. The nicks show where. Miss Vicki, could you
identify that Bellanca if we take you out to Corey
Field?
She could and did. Mr. MacDonald had an
accurate idea of who the masked flier was. The
224

CAA and the Fairview police had begun, very

quietly, Mr. Mac said, to investigate this accident.
Vicki debated whether or not to tell police and CAA
the bigger story, of which yesterdays episode was
only a part. But if she reported that Spin was
Darnell, that could mean instant arrest for Spin
and to take Spin away might permit Andrew Corey
to wriggle out of his association with the mechanic.
No, she would have to set a trap for both of them.
Vicki decided she would not be interfering with
the more limited CAA and police investigation. She
had two or three ideas for catching Corey and Spin
red-handed. These she discussed with Bill when
they returned to Avery Airport. Bill shook his head
at her audacity. You may look like a little goldenhaired angel but actually youre a stick of
dynamite.
When necessary. Vicki smiled but her eyes did
not. Im angry about what Spin did to me
yesterday. Ive been angry, way down deep, all
summer, for what Coreys doing to you. Now
youve finally come to your senses, my dear darling
idiot, so I dont have to keep quiet any longer. She
said with determination, Theres going to be an
explosion
Thats what I say, dynamite.
and proof. Pay attention, Bill. Stop mooning
at me.
225

I just realized Im crazy about you, Vicki.

Thanks, and I like you, too, but with Darnell on
the prowl, couldnt these soft words wait? Bill
sighed and grinned. Vicki dug the precious code
note out of her pocket. They had strolled to the far
end of the airport, well out of Spins range. Now
dont you think, Bill, the first step is to locate the
typewriter on which this code was written? In fact,
Guy Englishhe was over last evening to see if I
was all rightand Ginny both volunteered to hunt
through the typewriter repair shops and the
pawnshops.
Let me see that note, honey. Vicki handed it to
him. I barely glanced at it yesterday when you were
so knocked out. He studied it. Someone used a
busted typewriter. Look at that S and L. Say! You
can tell your sister and Guy to call off their search!
Remember my broken-down portable I threw out?
Well, I could swear this is it. Id recognize its
peculiar busted S and L anywhere.
Bill had thrown the portable out, all right. It was
possible Spin had found it in the junk heap and
repaired it, as well as it could be repaired.
Pigeon, Ill bet you my old typewriter is either in
the hangar or in Spins room at his boardinghouse.
Hes too cautious to keep it in his room. Thats
too incriminating. Out here he could claim its
yours, not his.
226

Bill sent the mechanic, in his long-sleeved

coveralls, on an invented errand downtown. They
searched the hangar. Under a three-foot heap of
hose, tools, and cartons, they dug out the typewriter.
Bill pounded out a replica of the code note on it. The
two notes, original and copy, matched.
I have it! Vicki suddenly shouted. The
typewriter provides the trap! Dont you see? She
rapidly explained to Bill, meanwhile burning his
copy of the code note. Spin must not suspect a thing.
When Spin came back, their plan was settled. An
important prop was concocted. Bill shooed Vicki out
of the hangar. She stayed near enough to hear Bill
say, as they had just arranged he should:
Had a phone call while you were away just now.
A physician in Twin Oaks wants us to fly him and a
patient of his up to Chicago early tomorrow
morning. To St. Lukes Hospital for a consultation.
What you goin to use for an ambulance plane?
Spin asked sarcastically. Your one and only?
Yep, the DC-3. But Im going to fly it to St.
Louis and back today. I wont be back until around
six-thirty and the shipll need a checkup, and some
changes for the patient. Also the doc said early
tomorrow morning. Spin, can you work overtime on
the DC-3 this evening? After you have supper, I
mean.
For Jupiters sweet sake! Work this evenin!
227

Dont I work hard enough around here already?

Vicki heard Bill humor him. Cmon, its an
emergency. Double pay for tonight. Id do it myself,
Spin, honestly, but Vicki and I promised to visit the
Muellers tonight. That means I wont be back here
at the airport until maybe ten or eleven oclock
tonight. Youll have the place to yourself tonight.
Ah, cmon, Spin.
Spin grumbled some more. Bill said, as he and
Vicki had just carefully planned:
Ill even send in a swell supper for you and me,
a big basket of fried chicken from Jacksons, so you
wont have to bother about goin out and back for
supper. Course, if youre too tired, Ill hire
someone else for tonight.
No! Ill do it. Okay, boss, anything for you.
Yes, anything, Vicki thought, up to and including
murder.
Before Bill went out in the DC-3 to St. Louis, he
and Vicki made seemingly innocent preparations.
They set out on the field a portable light and two
portable reflectors. In case Bill gets delayed and
has to make a night landing, they told Spin, when
he gets back from St. Louis. But dont worry, Bills
generally on time. The St. Louis trip was a ruse to
give their trap time to work. As for Bills story of
the doctor and patient wanting the DC-3 tomorrow,
and the tale of going to visit Dwight and Barbara
228

Mueller, those were pure myth.

Next, mainly to impress Spin that she was
unafraid, Bill insisted that Vicki take up another
light trainer plane. Alone. She knew it was for her
own goodif she didnt go up fairly promptly after
an accident, she might lose courage and never go up
again. It wasnt easy to force herself through the
motions but Vicki steeled herself and did it. Ten
minutes aloft was enough, after yesterdays
nightmare. Besides, Bill was waiting to see her
safely on the ground before he left for St. Louis and
back. Spin wouldnt be fooled about what Bill and
Vicki were doing unless the DC-3 showed that much
additional mileage: Bill had to go.
Bill, did you check your plane? Vicki
demanded. Yourself? Right now? This time Bill
didnt laugh her off. He checked thoroughly.
Youll stay here until I get back, Vicki?
Yes. You phoned Ginny while I was flying,
didnt you? You phoned Jacksons to deliver Spins
and your suppers here? Good. Well, happy
landings.
See you around six-thirty, pigeon.
Bill taxied the twin-engined plane down to the far
end of his long airport and took off from there.
About ten minutes later Ginny arrived. She found
Vicki in the office shack, keeping watch on any
telephone calls and any visitors entering from the
229

road.
Ginny, are you willing to do a dangerous
errand?
You know Im not going to say no.
I know! The sisters smiled at each other. First,
I want this note delivered to Mr. Corey, in person, at
once, at Corey Airportnot by you nor by anyone
who knows us. I think a telegraph company
messenger would be best, or theres that messengerand-delivery service on Vermilion Street. Heres a
dollar.
Never mind, thanks. I brought some money with
me. May I see what you want delivered?
For reply Vicki unfolded a code note, on ordinary
lined notebook paper. She and Bill had typed it on
his old typewriter while Spin was downtown. This
faked code note looked very much like the one
Freddie and Ginny had originally found, and it read:
ESLER OEMOC TNEGR UYTRI HTTHG IETHG INOTR
AGNAH YREVA ENOLA EBLLI KCIUQ NOSRE PNIUO
YEESO TTOGX.

Its supposed to be from Spin to Mr. Corey, isnt

it? Ginny said. Translate.
Got to see you in person quick. Ill be alone
Avery hangar tonight eight-thirty. Urgent. Come or
else. Vicki put the note into a plain blank envelope
230

and sealed it securely. Ginnyto Mr. Corey in

person, as quickly as possible.
Are you sure hes in town? And at his airport?
Bills sure, because he talked business to Corey
on the telephone this morning. Now, sweetie, theres
a second errand. It would save valuable time if
youd enlist Guys help. Bill would like to have Mr.
MacDonald and a police officer and, if he can, Judge
English to be presentvery quietlyat the airport
at eight-forty. As witnesses toah
whatever may happen. Will I see you at
supper?
Yes, Ill be home for supper, to make Spin think
everything is as usual. Ill go off the field when Bill
comes on. Then hell leave as soon as he gets Spin
to work on the DC-3. But well be back!
Uh-huh, said Ginny, her blue eyes snapping.
Here
Be careful, baby. And hurry.
With Ginny in charge, Vicki could be certain that
Andrew Corey would receive the faked code note,
probably within the hour. Vicki kept close watch, in
case Corey tried to communicate with Spin by
telephone or messenger before tonight at eightthirty. She also watched to give Spin no chance to
get in touch with Corey. Vicki, busy at Bills desk,
could look across the grass runways and see Spin in
the hangar repairing the Cubs crushed wing. The
231

afternoon dragged on. There were no visitors of

interest, only routine phone calls. Their plan had hit
no snags so far.
At six-thirty Bill came roaring in in the DC-3. He
and Vicki waved to each other. Vicki waited five
minutes more, until she saw the messenger from
Jacksons restaurant bring in the boys supper. Then
she left the field, satisfied that Spin was under Bills
surveillance until the crucial hours of evening.
At home, at the supper table, Vickis father said
people were asking questions. Corey Field was
officially open, but where were the Trans-America
planes? Andrew Corey had just published the
required semiannual report of the airport to its
stockholders, showing a shaky financial status. Mr.
Corey cheerfully admitted that the project had not
yet earned a profit, only the losses to be expected
at the beginning. Vicki thought of September
fifteenth, only about two weeks off; she thought of
Coreys frame of mind. He must be desperate.
Desperate enough to answer Spins note tonight?
Is anything bothering you, dear? her mother
asked.
Vics just daydreaming, Ginny answered
quickly. She has a real dreamy date tonight with
Bill.
It was dreamy in another sense. Bills airport,
dark at night, with Bill a shadowy figure beside her,
232

did not seem quite natural. They noiselessly made

their way through the damp grass toward the hangar.
The moon was big and orange and low, but too
murky to cast much light. It was eight-fifteen.
Perhaps Corey would not come. Spin would tighten
up the DC-3 and go home to his boardinghouse, and
that would be that.
Bill seized her arm and suddenly stopped
walking. Vicki stood still, afraid to move or whisper.
They waited in deep shadow. Ahead of them in the
hangar with its one length open to their view, Spin
worked by just one small lightthe flickering flame
of a Bunsen burner. He must be soldering. He had
turned off the bright ceiling lights. Great, weird
shadows streaked across the parked planes and
dimmed the hangar. It was difficult to see Spin, or
whether anyone was with him, or what he was
doing. Vicki and Bill crept a little closer. Vicki
blinked and her eyes grew accustomed to the halfdarkness in the hangar.
Spin was poking in the engine of the DC-3. He
straightened up, his right hand cupped as if he were
holding something small in his palm, and climbed
down the stepladder. Hand still cupped, he went to
his jacket hanging on a hook on the wall, and
emptied the contents of his hand into his jacket
pocket. Vicki could not believe the testimony of her
own eyes until Bill choked with fury. Spin heard
233

that small sound. He whirled around inquiringly.

Vicki tried to block Bills waylet Spin think hed
imagined that soundBill in a temper would ruin
their plan. But she was not fast enough.
Bill leaped on Spin like a cat. Stop tamperin
with my plane!
So you came back! Youre spyin on me! You
dirty!
Whatd you put in your pocket just now?
Whatd you take out of the engine? Spin struggled
out of his grasp.
Are you accusin me? Spin raised the heavy
steel wrench he had hooked on his coveralls, to
strike Bill on the head. They grappled. Bill was the
taller but Spin was strong and tricky. They dropped,
rolling on the hangar floor, nearly knocking over the
open flame perched on a wooden box. Vicki
abruptly stopped watching them, ran to Spins
jacket, and fumbled in its pocket. Screws! The fine
screws which connected delicate engine wires! Not
all of thembut enough to make terrible trouble
once the plane had risen into mid-air. Spin grunted,
right behind her, and reached out to seize his jacket.
Bill knocked the mechanic sideways, shouting in his
excitement. Spin abandoned his jacket and broke
away from Bills grip. Free, Spin sideswiped to the
burner with its open flame and hurled it into a pile of
greasy cloths. Small flames burst out. The shadows
234

in the hangar leaped fantastically. Spin ran like a

demon onto the dark field.
Vicki pushed the screws deep in her own pocket
and grabbed the fire extinguisher from Bill as he
lifted it down from the wall. Ill do thisyou get
Spin!
Bill ripped the metal head off the extinguisher,
then ran. Vicki trained the rain of chemicals on the
greasy rags. The flames sputtered high and green for
a few seconds, and then died out.
A broad swathe of light cut through the fields
shadows. Bill had turned on the portable light. Vicki
stamped on the rags to be sure that all the fire was
out, then switched on the hangars top lights.
Something white lying beside Spins jacket on the
floor caught her eyea paperno, an envelope.
She scooped it up on the run, glimpsing Spins name
on it. The envelope must have fallen out of his
jacket.
Outdoors in the darkness she could dimly make
out Bill turning the portable landing light in all
directions, like an immense flashlight. The beam cut
across the field again and again, found a running
figure, then lost him as he darted back into shadow.
Vicki started. Didnt Bills sweeping light pick up a
second figure for an instant? If only she had a light,
tooshe did! The reflectors!
Vicki raced to the lightweight reflector, attached
235

to prongs like a croquet wicket, and clumsily

maneuvered it. There! She caught the brilliance of
Bills beam and her reflector shot it back, doubling
the illumination of the airfield. Spin and another
running figure grew visible. Bill caught on at once
to what she was doing, and trained his light so that it
squarely picked out Spin and at another point
Andrew Corey! Both men were running, converging
toward each other and toward the highway. Bill
shouted incoherently. He and Vicki planted their
pronged lights in the earth and ran for the airport
entrance. They made it in time to hear Bills car start
noisily. It screeched off down the highway. Both
men had got away.
Ten minutes later Malcolm MacDonald and two
Fairview police detectives arrived in one car. Judge
English, Guy, and Ginny arrived in a second car.
Dont worry, miss. Well pick up your
mechanic. Well radio every town in the state to be
alert for that yellow car.
Will you pick up Andrew Corey, too?
But we have no charges against Mr. Corey. You
say he was hereif you could be sure in the dark
but thats no crime. Mr. Corey is a leading
businessman. How can we think?
Bill burst out, If youd got here a few minutes
earlier, youd have a case against Corey, all right!
Have you any proof at all? Mr. MacDonald
236

asked patiently.
Vicki produced the envelope Spin had lost. I
think so, she said. Out of the envelope, which was
postmarked Fairview, she drew a check. She
moved in front of the headlights of Judge Englishs
car to read it. It was payable to Spin Voight, drawn
on a South Fairview bank, on a check printed for
Land and Sky, Inc.and it was signed J. R.
Smithson. Yes, Mr. Mac, I believe we have
important proof. If youll give me one more day, Ill
be able toto reveal something pretty astonishing.
Will you all excuse me until then? Come on, Ginny,
lets go home.

237

CHAPTER XVI

The End of J. R. Smithson

At nine-thirty next morning the manager of the

small South Fairview bank did not want to give
Vicki and Bill any information. He examined the
check Vicki brought him, and admitted that J. R.
Smithson of Land and Sky, Inc., had been a
depositor for the last few months.
You can see for yourself, Miss Barr, that this
check is number twelve. . . . Yes, it is for quite a
large sum. But a bank holds its depositors business
in confidence. . . . No, I dont know Mr. Averys
employee, Spin Voight, to whom this check is
payable
Mr. Harris, I think if Mr. Avery and I tell you
the circumstances under which we discovered this
checkVicki glanced at Bill, who nodded
youll be willing to answer our questions. I also
should tell you that Mr. MacDonald of CAA and
Judge English know that we are working on this
problem. I would be happy to have you telephone
238

them and verify my story.

Well, in that case, come into the private office,
said the bank manager, rising.
They went into an inner room. Mr. Harris closed
the door. He listened without a word while Vicki
quickly sketched the entire situation. Then he rang a
buzzer for the chief teller.
Please bring me the ledger for the Land and Sky
account, and also bring the reference cards on file
for J. R. Smithson. Thats quite a different story
from the one we heard, Miss Barr. In the first place,
J. R. Smithson is a woman.
A woman! Here in Fairview? Bill demanded.
Shall we say, with a bank account in South
Fairview, the bank manager corrected. After all,
this section of town is separated by the river and a
considerable distance from Fairview proper. We
really are a small but independent community here
in South Fairview.
I never thought of looking in my own back
yard, Vicki muttered. Mr. Harris, Land and Sky is
a Chicago firm, isnt it? Then why has Mr.I mean
Miss Smithson a checking account in South
Fairview?
Just a minute. The teller brought the account
books and left the room. To answer your question.
Mrs. Smithson came to us in June, the middle of
June, to open this account. She explained that she is
239

an officer of Land and Sky which has its offices in

Chicago. However, she resides in Fairview
Not South Fairview? What Fairview address
have you for her?
None. She gave us only 104 North Wacker
Drive, Chicago. She saw no reason to give her home
address. You see, although the Land and Sky office
is in Chicago, Mrs. Smithson wanted this account
here for her personal convenience. In fact, she
wanted it as a personal checking account, she said,
to pay out for personal expenses.
Bill frowned. Didnt you think all this was
well, unusual?
Ahyes, rather. But Mrs. Smithson made a very
large deposit in cash and as a small bank, frankly,
we were glad to get it. Also she furnished acceptable
personal referencesChicago people. We could not
very well refuse her.
To pay out personal expenses, Vicki repeated
thoughtfully. Sounds as if Land and Sky might be a
dummy firm. A front to hide behindto hide those
personal expenses. What were Mrs. Smithsons
personal expenses for which she had to have this
secret checking account?
The bank manager opened the ledger, inviting
Vicki and Bill to look for themselves. Starting in
June, regularly every week, J. R. Smithson had paid
Spin Voight a check for one hundred dollars.
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Starting two weeks ago, Mrs. Smithson had

increased Spins checks to one hundred and fifty
dollars a week. No other checks had been drawn.
The bank manager said he had not seen Mrs.
Smithson in the bank since the day she opened her
account. Here is J. R. Smithsons signature. Do you
recognize it?
No, sir. Wait What is Mrs. Smithsons first
name?
I dont know. Its signed J. R., nothing more.
J. R. Smithson was connected with Corey. Who
connected with Corey had a first name starting with
J? Or R? Vicki said eagerly, Can you describe
her?
II dont really remember. Average height,
nice-looking. I remember being impressed by her
expensive clothes. She had a big car waiting. She
seemed to be a rich woman.
J . . . J? A rich woman connected with Smithson
and Corey. Corey was rich himself. Mrs. Corey?
Janet Corey? Vicki had an inspiration.
Mr. Harris, may I use your telephone? . . . Thank
you She dialed home. Mother, dont think Ive
gone raving mad, but can you tell me Mrs. Janet
Coreys maiden name? . . . Well, will you call up
your friend Agatha and ask her? Please do it on the
other phone in Dads study. Ill hold on here.
In three minutes Betty Barr was back on Vickis
241

wire. Agatha Miller, who knew everybodys family

history, had said Mrs. Coreys maiden name was
Smithson. Her given names were Janet Ruth. And
Vicki knew it is legal for a married woman to use
her maiden name if she wishes to do so. Thanks,
Mother. That clinches it!
I fail to see that this is conclusive evidence, Mr.
Harris remarked cautiously as Vicki hung up.
Yes, it is, a man said in a decisive manner.
Vicki turned around in surprise. While she was
talking on the telephone, Mr. MacDonald had
quietly come in. With him was the police detective.
Mr. Harris, we came to ask you to let us have
these ledgers, and to answer some questions for us.
The CAA inspector turned to Vicki. Miss Vicki,
Guy English said you might like to know Andrew
Corey called up the Judge and several leading
businessmen this morning. He invited them to lunch
with him today at the country club. Today at noon.
So Mr. Corey is still in Fairview, Vicki
marveled, as cool as if nothing had happened.
Yes, hes here, said Mr. MacDonald wryly.
Corey promised to make a business speech at the
luncheon this noon.
But if Corey is in Fairview, wheres Spin
Voight?
We dont know, miss, answered the police
officer. Hes still missing. The officer opened the
242

door for her.

A luncheon today at noon, Bill figured aloud,
as he and Vicki climbed into the Barrs car. By the
time we drive across the river and then out to the
country club, itll be past elevennearly eleventhirty. We could wait for Mr. Corey at the club.
We certainly could, said Vicki.
They arrived early enough to see, in the clubs
private dining room, the steward and waiters setting
the tables with champagne and flowers for Andrew
Coreys luncheon. Business as usual, in Coreys
usual grandiose style! Vicki and Bill waited on the
veranda.
At a quarter to twelve Coreys big car drove up.
The chauffeur helped Mr. Corey out, and then Judge
English. From the Judges dry half-smile Vicki
understood why he came along with Corey, who
strode up to Bill and Vicki as commanding as ever.
Well, what are you two kids doing here? Why
arent you attending to business at your airport,
Bill?
Bill swallowed hard and could not speak. The
promoters impressive manner still intimidated Bill.
Vicki answered for him:
Bill and I are attending to business, Mr. Corey,
right here. I wonder if we could talk with you
privately?
Now? Certainly not! I have guests coming. The
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portly gray-haired man walked into the clubhouse.

Vicki followed him. She wasnt going to be brushed
off like this. Miss Barr, cant you tell my secretary
whatever it is?
Not very well. You see, its about J. R.
Smithson.
Sm! Oh, all right, all right. Come into this
card-room, no ones in here. So you want to be in on
this, too, Bill? What for? Corey dourly admitted
Bill and pushed the door closed.
Judge English opened the door again. Id like to
listen, too, if you dont mind.
Whyumits nothing but kids foolishness.
Wouldnt you be more comfortable outdoors on the
veranda? Ill order a cigar for you, Judge.
Thanks, but you know quite well I dont smoke.
Ah, this is a fine, comfortable, little room. Close the
door, Andrew, and stop that pacing, will you?
Corey threw his heavy body into the biggest chair in
the room. Very well, Vicki, you had something to
say?
Now listen here, Judge! Corey broke in. Im
not going to sit here while that snip of a girl
Vicki smarted, tried to talk, but Corey drowned out
her voice.
Let her speak, the Judge said calmly.
This isnt a courtroom! Corey exploded. Im
not on trial!
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But you will be. Vicki lost her temper. Ill tell
the truth and nobodys going to silence me! Im
going to tell the whole truth, so help me!
The Judge rose. Perhaps we had better hear this
testimony in my chambers, under oath and in the
presence of a stenographer. The Judge dominated
by moral force. Im sorry, Andrew, but you will
have to ask your guests to enjoy your hospitality
without you. Bill, call the steward. Mr. Corey will
relay the message and his regrets.
The four of them, in strained silence, drove
downtown to the Judges chambers. There Judge
English summoned Mr. MacDonald, the Fairview
police chief, and the court stenographer, assuring
Mr. Corey that his lawyer was welcome to be
present if he could be located by telephone. These
peopleexcepting the lawyer who could not be
found at oncewere no sooner assembled than the
police detective rapped and came in.
Some news, sir. Spin Voight was just picked up.
In Chicago. He abandoned Averys yellow car about
five oclock this morning and was caught around
noon trying to steal another car. The Chicago police
are flying him down here right away. He handed
the Judge a sealed note.
Vicki watched Corey during this announcement.
He changed color but maintained his poise. He even
managed to look indifferent.
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The Judge ordered Vicki to tell what she had

discovered. With Bills help, she recited the
complete story. The room was strangely quiet as she
talkedexcept for her voice, a little trembly, and
the faint tap-tap of the stenotypists machine and the
hoarse sound of Coreys breathing. She named
places and dates and persons. She told the story of
Ray Darnell and the tattoo mark and how Spin had
taken the incriminating photo from Ruth Streeters
album. She produced the bits of metal found in the
DC-3s oil sump the first time Spin had tampered
with the ship, and the screws Spin removed last
night from the DC-3s engine. She showed the
check, stamped Land and Sky, Inc., made out to
Spin Voight by J. R. Smithson. She suggested that a
police search of Spins room at Mrs. Keenes
boardinghouse might reveal a black mask and an old
AAF photograph of Spin with fair, undyed hair and
an unmutilated tattoo mark. Or if Spin had destroyed
mask and photo, the police still might find telltale
remnants. She repeated verbatim her conversation
with Mr. Bateson of Trans-America Airlines. She
identified Smithson as Mrs. Corey. Finally Vicki
produced the original code note. Corey gasped when
he saw it. Vicki translated it aloud:
No chance soon. Girl is in the way. Will keep
trying. Could use more money.
Are you finished, Vicki? said the Judge. Do
246

any of the police staff wish to question her or Bill

Avery? Do you, Mr. MacDonald?
Later will do, Judge, if we find its necessary.
Very well. Andrew, it is your turn to speak.
I wont talk until Ive consulted my lawyer!
That is your privilege, of course. May I advise,
though, the law will be more lenient with you if you
make a clean breast of it, voluntarily. May I further
point out that Vicki Barr has made extraordinarily
well-documented statements.
Shes told a pack of lies! Judge, I thought you
were my friend.
I am advising you as a friend, the Judge said
earnestly. Speak now, Andrew. Or if you prefer,
well take Spin Voights testimony before yours, as
soon as the Chicago police fly him down. Hell talk,
Im sure. In fact, he has talked to some extent
already. He has charged you, Andrew Corey,
according to this note, with employing him at one
hundred dollars a week to tamper with Bill Averys
cargo plane, to act as informer, and to do all he
could to force Bill out of business. Corey turned
crimson and breathed hard.
The police chief spoke. Even without Voights
accusation, Mr. Corey, Miss Barr has furnished
enough evidence to convict you. Why dont you take
the Judges advice and stop holding back?
Corey covered his heavy, flushed face with his
247

hands and muttered. When he took his hands away,

he was pale. He began to talk in a broken voice.
First of all, he wanted it understoodand he said
this under oaththat he had never realized Spin
Voight was a criminal wanted for murder. It was his
policy, as he had once told Vicki, not to inquire into
the private lives of his many employees. Spin had
come to him with good references (he hadnt
checked them) and an A&E license. That seemed
sufficient. Corey had found Spin to be a remarkably
willing employee who would do anything at all that
was asked of him, for a price. He hadnt ever
speculated as to why Spin was so co-operative. He
had engaged Spin to force Bill out of businessbut
not to do murder! Corey swore over and over that
here, today, when Vicki told of it, was the first he
knew that Spin had tried to put Vicki Barr out of the
way. Spin had his own reasons for fearing and
hating Vicki.
I was never concerned with the Barr girl, except
that she noticed too much. She wrote asking for a
job with Land and Sky, and I thought she was just a
naive, eager kid. What I wanted was Avery
Airportwanted its land. I tried to buy it, but when
I couldnt get it that way Corey broke down. I
swear Ive never in my life done anything like this
before! I was forced into it!
Suppose you tell your side of the story from the
248

beginning, said Judge English. His voice was

without sympathy.
Corey said he came to Fairview feeling sure that
Trans-Americas verbal promise could be developed
into a definite contract. Corey was so confident that
he brought Spin and other technicians with him, and
proceeded as if he really had the contract. He
persuaded Fairview people to share his enthusiasm
and to invest; he never considered that he was lying
to them about having the Trans-America contract.
The promoters egotism and confidence were
boundless. He did not put in much money of his
own, but a great deal of work. He was made
president of the big new airport, and won in
exchange for his labors a large block of stock which
gave him voting control.
Trans-America insisted on longer runways and
Corey tried to buy Bills land, at a fair price. But
Bill refused to sell. Corey had privately guaranteed
Trans-America that he could obtain extra landnow
he had to. He dared not openly force Bill out of
business, because the struggling young veteran was
well liked in town and Corey would be disliked for
his action. Therefore, Corey tried to buy up Bills
mortgage secretly. First, he set up a dummy firm in
near-by Chicago, calling it Land and Sky, Inc. He
registered it in his wifes maiden name and
furnished an address for it by subscribing to a mail249

and-telephone service. Second, Corey hired an

agent, Gerald Hood of New York, and sent him to a
Fairview real-estate firm. Walter Davitt was the
real-estate man. Hood made it financially worth
while for Davitt to locate the holder of Bills
mortgage, which was Building and Loan. Then
Davitt went to Building and Loan, at Hoods
request, and tried to buy the mortgage. But Vicki
paid Bills mortgage payment just in time, and the
Judge had persuaded Building and Loan to refuse
this anonymous offer. Corey had to find another way
to get Bills land. He still did not envisage any but
legal methods.
However, when his mechanic Spin slyly
mentioned that Bill wanted Spin to work at his small
field, Corey thought this might be useful. Spin could
keep him informed, at least. Corey agreed to pay
Spin a weekly bonus to go to Avery Airport.
Coreys early contacts with Spin led to a
dangerous slip-up. Spin came to Coreys house to
collect his money. Corey wanted no personal contact
with Spin; he could not risk being seen or overheard
with Spin; could not even risk ordinary letters.
Therefore Corey immediately arranged a safe way to
pay Spin. The bonus would be paid to Spin by mail,
by checks drawn on a small, inconspicuous South
Fairview banksince Corey had all his funds in
Fairviewand paid out by the dummy firm, Land
250

and Sky. Corey sent his wife Janet to South

Fairview where she was not known; at the bank
there she opened a checking account in her maiden
name, J. R. Smithson, for Land and Sky, Inc., giving
only the Chicago mailing address. Now Corey had a
discreet setup for paying Spin.
Corey still lacked a method to convey instructions
to Spin and to receive Spins reports, without
personal contact. They met, only once, early in the
summer at Greensville Airport and agreed on a
simple code for typewriting letters. Corey instructed
Spin that, thereafter, there were to be no more
personal meetings. If, in an emergency, they had to
meet again, they would do so at the Greensville
Airport, where the meeting could seem accidental.
Corey made a friend of the airport owner, George
Brown, by doing some small favors. Corey
experimentally suggested that Bills business could
be damaged if Spin put Bills one cargo plane out of
commission. Spin agreed to everything in his quiet
way, though Corey was not sure how far he could
trust him.
Spins first tampering with Bills DC-3, by
putting bits of metal in its oil sump, did not quite
succeed. Neither he nor Spin realized that Spin
carelessly lost a code note, and that Vicki Barr had
come into possession of it.
Corey received a hurry-up call to go to New York
251

to4 see the Trans-America people. They decided that

giving Corey the contract hinged on his being able
to furnish longer runwaysand wanted to know
how soon he could get the adjoining land? Corey
was in a sweat. In Chicago, on his way to New
York, he picked up his Land and Sky mail by
messenger, found Vickis letter, but did not take it
seriously. On his way back from New York, riding
Vickis Federal plane, he had lost the Land and Sky
envelope. He was disturbed by the questions the girl
asked him about Spin. He was terribly worried about
getting Bills land, and soon.
Corey egged Spin on to tamper with Bills DC-3
a second time. As a result, Bill lost the orchid cargo
and his reputation was hurt, but he was still in there
fighting. So Corey tried the injunction suit and sent
Spin instructions by special-delivery letter. Corey,
meanwhile, was so sure hed win the injunction that
he sent Hood to Trans-America offering them Bills
airport for sale. He had merely made a fool of
himself.
When Vicki discovered directly from TransAmerica that he did not have the contract, after all
even though the story was not made publicCorey
became desperate. He opened his airport at once, for
appearance sake. He ordered Spin to sabotage Bill
again the next chance he got.
But Spin was growing difficult. Shrewd enough
252

to sense that Corey was in trouble, Spin refused to

help unless he was paid more money. In fact, Spin
wanted to pull out of the risky setup altogether. Spin
also hinted at blackmail. In desperation, Corey met
Spin, personally, at Greensville Airport to talk him
into doing the sabotage. Unfortunately Vicki saw
them together at Greensville, but Corey did not take
her seriously. As for Spin, an increase in his weekly
bonus kept him loyal a bit longer.
When Corey received the faked code note asking
him to come to Avery Airport to see Spin, he was
afraid to go and afraid not to go. He never doubted
that the note was genuine. He still was determined to
have Bills land. He arrived at Avery Airport last
night only to see Vicki and Bill catch Spin in the act
of tampering with the DC-3. He himself escaped,
and if Vicki Barr had not found out about the Land
and Sky bank account, he might still be a free man.
That was all. Outwitted by a chit of a girl . . .
Andrew Corey had spoken for a long time. When
he finished, tired, everyone in the room was still.
The Judge murmured, Fraud, sabotage, and
criminal collusion. Vicki heard a door slam outside.
The same police detective came in. We have
Spin Voight here now, sir.
Bring him in.
Spin stumbled in, manacled to a state trooper. He
showed the effects of sleeplessness and a fight with
253

his captors. He still wore the long-sleeved coveralls

of yesterday, but overnight he had grown middleaged. His cold expression had given way to panic.
Spins eyes, fixed on Vicki, burned with hatred.
Ill get you for this
Be quiet, Darnell, the Judge ordered. Youll
get no one. Vicki, you are no longer in danger
from this man. All right, Darnell. We will take your
statement now. The truth, this time!
Spin-Darnell muttered bits of the story of the
tattoo mark and of his conspiracy with Corey. He
tried vainly to throw all the blame on Corey. Vicki
sat listening, not vengeful but horrified. Spin had
fled the AAF, dyed his hair, assumed another name,
learned in a civilian schoolnot in the AAF as he
had lied to herto become an A&E mechanic, and
then hidden out in a respectable profession where no
one would think to look for him. But the tattoo
mark, even mutilated, and his own nature, had been
his undoing.
Corey was taken to jail. Perhaps later he might
raise bail, more likely not. Spin was held in another
part of jail, pending his pickup by military police.
Neither of them, Judge English assured the others,
would get off lightly.
JudgeMr. Mac Bill said as they all started
for the street. I feel awful about all this. Mr. Corey
never told me I was holdin up the Trans-America
254

contract, and all it means to this town. If Id

known Well, I know now. Maybe my little twopenny business shouldnt have all that land.
You have a right to your land, the Judge
assured Bill.
Corey had no right to attempt a monopoly, said
the CAA man.
I mean, I dont want to stand in the way of
Fairviews having a big, fine airport. If it would be
better for the town, and if itd save everybodys
money whos invested in Corey Field, IIll
Well, gosh, I hate to give up my field and go look
for a job, but
You wont have to sacrifice your business, Bill,
said Mr. MacDonald. I appreciate what youre
saying. Surely we can all get together and work out
some equitable arrangement to lengthen the runways
of the big airport. Fairview can have Trans-America
planes stopping here yet, if you mean what you say.
I do mean it, sir.
Vicki said cheerfully, Mr. Bateson at TransAmerica said theyd wait till the fifteenth. It still
isnt the fifteenth.
Bill and Vicki caught the bus to The Castle
together.
Bill groaned. Gee, Vicki, even in all this
excitement, you managed to keep your head.
If I didnt, youd be in a fine pickle. What Im
255

really proudest of, thoughVicki chuckledis

that I won you over to washing your face and
wearing clean shirts.
Cant say I enjoy it. Comb my hair these days,
too.
Well, Ill be going back to my job now, and
youll soon be rid of your pest.
Im goin to miss you somethin terrible, Bill
said, looking woebegone already. Anyhow, Ill
walk you to your door.
Ginny greeted them at The Castles oak door by
waving a CAA envelope for Vicki. Inside was
Vickis pilots license! Her family congratulated her
and Bill declared, This calls for a celebration!
All right, young man, Professor Barr said goodhumoredly. How shall we celebrate?
Bill sheepishly jammed his hands in his pockets.
I just remembered. Dwights givin me back his
orchid cargo as of today and I have to beat it back to
the airport to load the fool things. Aw, Vicki, Im
sorry I havent time to celebrate with you. He
brightened. Unless you want to come out to the
field with me? You and Ginny and Guy, huh? We
could have a picnic supper while I load and Ill take
you all flyin afterward. Okay?
Mr. Barr held one hand to his forehead and even
Ginny made a small face. Betty Barr laughed.
Im afraid Vicki hasnt the time to celebrate
256

either, Bill. This telegram just arrived, dear. She

handed Vicki the familiar yellow envelope. Whats
it going to be next time?
I dont know, Mother. I never know where
Federal is going to send me. But Ruth Benson
promises Here, look at it yourself!
SUPERSPECIAL NEW ASSIGNMENT FOR YOU NOW
THAT YOU ARE A PILOT. COME AS FAST AS YOU CAN !

Bill looked down at Vicki and said, I almost

wish Id never taught you to fly, if its goin to take
you away.
I, too, wish youd never taught her, her father
said, but he smiled with pride.
Vicki shook her silvery-gold head. This isnt the
end, she said happily. Its the beginning of
something newand wonderful.

257