Airplane Boys at Platinum River

by E. J. Craine

“You needn’t be afeard, lady, not of the noisy ones. Tigers and them other cats don’t make a sound, but if you see one watching you, then you got cause to shiver.” The Admiral threw the light of his flash around cautiously and soon Jim saw the wheels of a large plane. It did not look like any of those that had taken part in the attack, but he couldn’t be sure. As they drew closer he did not see any sign of a machine gun or a pilot, so he guessed that their captors were airmen.

“All aboard,” the General ordered softly, and presently they were in the small cabin of what looked like a transportation machine. There was plenty of room for the six of them, besides two extra seats. Behind the passenger section was a compartment evidently meant for baggage and into this the rolls were tossed carelessly.

“Show your tickets,” the Admiral invited quite as if he was conducting a party of tourists, instead of taking the group decidedly against their will to parts unknown. Jim thought of inquiring what their destination was to be, but changed his mind because he could hardly expect to be given an honest answer.

The Admiral took the pilot’s seat, while the General perched watchfully in the rear so that any move made by one of the prisoners could be instantly observed and stopped. His rifle stood near at hand and a business-like six-gun was in his belt. There was the usual “trying,” then the huge plane moved through the darkness, and as soon as its wheel lifted, all but a very small light was switched off in the cabin.

“You been real peaceful up to now,” the Admiral reminded them, “En here’s hoping your good judgment don’t lead you astray while we’re flyin’. There ain’t no tigers, but the guns is fer use, pronto.” He turned his attention to his job, and soon they were roaring through space.

The plane seemed to climb steeply, then curve, and Austin wished that his place was not in the center. If he could get a glimpse of the control board he could calculate something about the direction they were taking. Thinking about the huge plane he realized that with little light people on the ground would not observe that it was a big one, and unless there were other lights on the tail or underneath, the dim glow would make it appear as if it were a small machine. It seemed to the Flying Buddy as if they were making very good speed, and in a few minutes they were tearing along in a thick mist. They climbed again, and once they rushed into a storm. The wind blew furiously and rain beat on the fuselage. Mrs. Gonzalas, who was seated close to her husband, sunk her head wearily on his shoulder, and was soon asleep.

It was a mighty good thing that she could sleep, Jim thought. He would have liked taking a nap himself but he felt that he had to keep wide awake for an opportunity to escape might present itself and they would want to grab it while the grabbing was good. He could see Arto huddled low in his coat collar and although the man looked as if he were dozing, the boy was positive that the former aviator was doing nothing of the kind. He too would be alert for a slip on the part of their captors which would change their present position, making the captors the captives. A flash of lightning cut through the blackness and then Austin was not sorry that he did not have the place at the controls as they tore through the storm. The plane climbed heavily and leveled off above the rain, then shot forward at an amazing speed.

The Flying Buddy made up his mind that this was no ordinary plane but a specially built machine with extra engine power. Probably it was the property of one of the chiefs of the gang, perhaps the leader or Boss himself, but glancing about, Jim changed his mind on that last score, for the Boss would be sure to have his personal machine more luxuriously furnished, with curtains, cushions, and shiny trimmings. He had no idea why he thought the Boss would do that but he had never read of a leader of gangdom who didn’t have a great deal of show and super-comfort in his surroundings. Once he closed his eyes, he couldn’t help it, and as he dozed he thought that the General in the rear was creeping up on them with a glistening knife, but when his eyes popped open he saw that his imagination was playing tricks on him, for the guard was exactly where he had taken his place at the start.

As well as the boy could tell they had traveled nearly half an hour when the speed was decreased somewhat, and then he realized they were circling in wide loops. Perhaps they had reached their destination, and a few minutes later he was sure they had, for the motor was throttled and the plane began to glide. They had either passed through the storm, or it was over, for there was no sign of it. Glancing through the nearest window he noticed that they were descending in what looked like a rugged section of the country. They must be in one of the spurs of the Andes. He thought he glimpsed something that might be a lake, then he could see nothing more and decided that they were coming down close to the earth and on both sides of them were steep wall-like cliffs.

Jim yawned and stretched high in his seat trying to get a look at the control board, but the Admiral, in making the landing, completely obscured it from his sight. Arto too indulged in a prodigious fit of deep breathing but he was no luckier than Austin in reading their location.