Then the planes crashed. As Tim floated downward, his parachute billowing out above, he heard the scream of breaking wires, the crash of struts, the last wild, defiant roar of speeding motors as his own plane ate its way into the other. To his left Tim could see two other parachutes drifting earthward. The bandits had not been caught in the crash!
CHAPTER TWO
While the parachutes floated down through the night, Tim realized that things were not turning out the way he had expected. He hoped the posse which was supposed to be in readiness at Auburn had seen the battle in the sky and was ready to do its part now.
Tim spilled some of the air from his parachute to speed his descent. He must reach the ground ahead of the bandits. If the posse wasn’t on the job, he might be able to handle the situation alone. Below him a heavy patch of timber loomed in the night. He jerked hard on the chute cords and, kicking desperately with his legs, swung away from the trees and dropped into a small clearing. Over to his right he could see the other two parachutes settling to earth.
The flying reporter unsnapped his parachute harness, made sure that his gun was ready, and then sprinted toward the place where he had last seen the parachutes.
There was a rushing, moaning sound that stopped Tim in his tracks. For the moment he had forgotten the two planes. Locked together, they had swung in great circles in the sky and the flyers, who had leaped in the chutes, had beaten them to the ground. Now, in a last tragic circle, the planes were hovering over the trees. For a moment they hung in the sky. Then, with a final flirt of their tails, stuck their noses down and the next moment struck the ground with terrific impact. There was a flash of fire and the roar of bursting fuel tanks. In a moment both planes were masses of flame.
Tim groaned at the thought of his beloved Lark coming to such an end and he hurried on with renewed determination. A hundred yards on the other side of the burning planes he came to an open field. Two irregular masses of white were laying near the center while on the far side Tim could distinguish the forms of two men, running toward a nearby road.
He heard the sputter of a powerful engine, headlights flashed on and before he was a third of the way across the field a car, with the two aerial bandits in it, was speeding down the valley away from the village of Auburn.
When the posse arrived five minutes later they found Tim waiting for them at the side of the road. Briefly he explained what had happened and then went to Auburn where he telephoned his story to the News office.
It was the next afternoon when Tim reached Atkinson and he half way expected a bawling out from Carson for the loss of his new plane. Instead, he found the managing editor jubilant.