The unaccustomed load made Her Highness’ management quite different from ordinary occasions when she had carried only an extra passenger, but the mail had to go through, regardless of men and machines, and the youthful part-owner of the plane was proud of her performance now, but he hoped hard that they would meet nothing on the way which would add to their difficulties. He thought of the Fentons. They were early birds and probably in bed long ago, but Bob’s aunt was a nervous woman and she might not sleep soundly because of their absence. They could let her know from Albany what was delaying them, but that might only add to her anxiety. Well, they had to make the best of it and it was rather an honor to be entrusted with U. S. mail. He tried to imagine what the bags contained. Probably a great many of the letters were highly important. People would not be sending their communications by the swiftest way if the matters were not urgent.
On, on, and on they soared through the night. The clock on the dial said twelve thirty. It seemed much longer than that since they had left their jolly hosts in Canada. Once the mail pilot touched his arm, then raising his hand as if he were an orchestra leader, he motioned to go higher, Jim nodded that he understood, so began to climb. They were fifteen thousand feet when he got the signal to level off. Then he pointed to the speaking tube, and the pilot nodded that he would use it if he had anything to say. One o’clock came, and one-thirty. They had been going over an hour. Probably the mail was late, for Jim was sure the regular plane was a fast bus. Her Highness could do high speed too, but not with such a load. It was nearly two o’clock when the pilot picked up the tube and gave directions. Later he pointed.
“There’s the field.” It was brilliantly lighted and the boy could see figures moving about the drome. As he glided down he noticed men looking at him curiously. He decided that they expected the mail plane and were surprised at his arrival. When he came to a stop a chap ran to the fuselage.
“Seen anything of Mason—the—”
“Right here, Old Timer,” Mason said quickly.
“Thank the Lord. We got word that a blazing plane was sighted, and we’ve been on pins and needles ever since. A couple of Canadians are out trying to locate you.”
“I’m O. K., and so is the mail, thanks to these youngsters.” Mason prepared to hop out, and he turned to Jim. “You didn’t tell me your name. I’m Phil Mason.”
“Mine’s Jim Austin, and my step-brother is Bob Caldwell. We’ve been visiting relatives in Vermont,” Jim explained. By that time Bob was out of his seat and a couple of men were removing the bags.
“Glad to know you lads. You want to bunk here the rest of the night—”
“Thanks, no, but I should appreciate a supply of gas. I’m not sure I have enough to make the trip back,” Jim answered.