“But this nut almost wrecked us,” he protested as he pointed at Tim.
“Shut up!” cried Hunter and he almost choked with rage, “if anybody here is going to get a licking you’re one of them. You cut in on Murphy. We had given him the right-of-way and you barged down and almost ran him into the ground. As it happens he was on special duty tonight, flying in here from Fort Armstrong. You may have something to explain to Uncle Sam and the least you’ll hear about this will be thirty days on the ground without pay.”
“You can’t get away with that,” protested the second flyer. “Why this kid was trying to beat us in.”
“I’ll get away with it and I may have your skins to boot,” promised Carson. “You’re so all-fired smart, suppose you step over here and take a look at the load Murphy is carrying tonight.”
The pilots of the big transport followed Hunter to the Good News where they peered into the forward cockpit.
“Bombs!” exclaimed one.
“We’d have been blown to pieces if we had met in the air,” gasped the other.
“Which is just exactly the reason Murphy took such a desperate chance to avoid hitting you,” exclaimed Hunter. “Do you still want to beat up on him?”
“Not on your life,” said the transport pilots and they turned to Tim to offer their apologies.
“We are lucky to be here,” said Tim as the tri-motor men stammered their appreciation.