Plane Jane

Author of “Haunted Hangars,” “Ordeal By Air,” etc.

Don’t go wonderin’ if I’m a expert on the subject, but ain’t there a kind of girl that looks her prettiest when she’s wearin’ a kitchen dress and rollin’ out biscuits? And ain’t there another sort of girl who transforms herself into the most beautiful when she appears in a filmy evenin’ gown and waits for you to waft her out into the moonlight? Then there’s another that becomes the one and only when she is wool from head to toe and cuddlin’ beside you on a toboggan. And there’s one who is a shade above Venus when she comes slashin’ out of the surf glistenin’ and lithe and fresh.

Jane Alton wasn’t any of these kinds, but, oh, what a dream she was in a flyin’ suit! Jane was born to ornament the air. With a stick in her hand and flyin’ joy in her eyes, she was an angel--and, of course, bein’ an angel, she belonged in the sky. She put herself there every chance she got!

It was a mornin’ full of smooth air and high visibility when Jane came rompin’ around the hangars, shinin’ leather all over and, seein’ us, smiled brighter ’n the sun and ran straight for our plane.

Ned Knight was in the fore cubby, jazzin’ the motor, ready for a take-off. He grinned and remarked over his shoulder:

“Benny, ol’ nut-twister, here’s where you lose your seat, back there. Jane’s all set to take another trip to her home port, Heaven, and there’s no use tryin’ to stop her. Better start gettin’ out.”

I’d already begun startin’, and I was all the way out when Jane came up laughin’.

“Thank you, you ol’ darlin’,” she said to me, and I ain’t so old, either. “I can’t wait another minute to get up into all that glorious sky. Ned, would you mind changin’ back to Benny’s seat?”

“What!” barked Ned. “Listen, Jane. I’m takin’ this little Alton up for a check-ride. Your Dad is waitin’ for the data on it. Just this time won’t you ride in back, just this once, and lemme--”

“Ned Knight,” came back Jane, “am I not the holder of a pilot’s license?”

“Yes, but--”

“Haven’t you, my only instructor, pronounced me to be a flyer equal to any other you know?”

“You sure are, Jane, but--”

“Can’t I handle that stick and do a good job of gatherin’ data myself?”

“I’m not sayin’ you can’t, but--”

“Do you want me to go up in another plane, without you, Ned Knight?”

“No!” said Ned, and so he began gettin’ out!

Me, I couldn’t ’ve held out half that long against Jane Alton. I was plenty crazy about that girl, but bein’ only a grease-monkey, and havin’ a map resemblin’ a mauled-up bulldog’s, I confined myself to bein’ just her slave. Ned Knight, however, being the best flyer in the state, and the handsomest in six, got a lot of time from her. I suspected maybe that there was some kind of romance goin’ on there, between the flyer and the daughter of the plant owner, ’cause they flew a lot together, those two.

So, with Ned back in the rear pit, Jane climbed into the front one, settled to the controls, jazzed the motor, and waved one tiny gloved hand to me. I socked the blocks; she stepped on the gas; and the Alton was off. It trundled to the other edge of the sand, and Jane pulled it up neatly; she circled twice, got herself a nice lot of altitude, rode a few air waves in sheer joy, and then deadheaded across the blue.

Now and then she cut the motor. Say, there wasn’t any tellin’ what went on between them two, all alone up there, so close to Heaven! I know they didn’t exactly dislike the open solitude of that sky! I remember once, when Jane hopped out of the Alton, after a spell of hootin’ with Ned, she said to him: “I love to be all alone with you up there!” And Ned was never quite the same when he came down from a flit with Jane, anyhow!

Well, while the Alton was banking and skimming at about a thousand, Robert Bennett Alton himself came out onto the field. He was owner of the field, and of the factory where the Altons were made. He was manufacturing a sturdy, speedy, almost foolproof plane that was just about the ultimate in aviation on a small scale. A man dissatisfied with anything short of perfection--that was Alton. And a fine man, in and out from the heart. He stood beside me, watching his little moth weave across the sky.

“What a ship!” I said. “What a joy of a ship!”

“It seems to handle well, Benny,” was all Alton said. “What--what’s that?”

Starin’, I went cold. From the front of the plane some black smoke spouted out; and then came the flashin’ of fire. Fire it was! The nose of that plane was bein’ licked by the flames leapin’ back from the engine. One second it had been all o. k., and the next it was pushin’ a bonfire through the sky! If the fire reached the gasoline lines and the tank--if it kindled the linen--it meant disaster! And I, myself, I had inspected that ship to make sure it was o. k. All but passin’ out, I continued to stare, and Mr. Alton got as white as the clouds.

“Benny, who’s pilotin’ that ship?”

“Jane!”

“What!”

Now the plane was sideslippin’ away from the flames; it tore off them, and they disappeared.

“And Jane knows her stuff!” I shouted.

Once havin’ snapped away from the danger, Jane dove at full throttle, but the fire flashed out again, worse than before. As soon as it did, Jane sideslipped again, and the wind put the fire out. This time when she recovered she banked steep, gradually losin’ altitude and made for the T. Mushin’ out, she cut the gun, and the Alton glided for the sand. The fire popped out again, not so bad this time, but bad enough!

The burnin’ ship trundled in, and before it stopped Ned Knight was out of it. Jane jumped right behind him. Ned scooped up sand and threw it on the fire, and Jane worked just as fast. Mr. Alton and me and some of the other boys ran for the ship, but by the time we got there, the fire was all out.

Ned Knight, plenty mad, stepped up to me chin first. “Benny, your job is to keep these ships in trim, ain’t it--’specially this one, that’s goin’ to fly the race--or was! Then how come the timin’ is off, and fire got sucked back into the carburetor? I’ll bet my hat that the screen and drain is in bad shape, too, you--. Good gosh!”

“Well, I got it out all right, didn’t I?” inquired Jane, who seemed to think that any scrape wasn’t very bad if she got out of it alive.

“You sure did! You got us out like a veteran. Jane, you’re all right. Benny, dang you--”

I wasn’t wastin’ time standin’ there and bein’ bawled out. I put my head into that motor, and it took only a minute for me to find out that some monkey business had been goin on--grease-monkey business! The engine had been tampered with. Our pet Alton! The ship we were dressin’ for the race! And with Jane in it! Lord!

I whirled around and barked out my troubles. And then there was plenty of quiet for a minute.