A great light dawned upon Jimmy’s mind. He actually laughed. “That’s a good one,” he exclaimed. “So you took me for a ‘dry’ agent. No, I’m not a government agent. I’m a newspaper reporter. I represent the New York Morning Press. Look at the name on the side of my ship.”
“I can’t read,” said the man. “It makes no difference if you are a newspaper man. You was on my trail.”
“You’ve got another guess,” said Jimmy. “I flew up here to carry medicines to some people on Duck Island who are sick. We just got a newspaper despatch telling about them. There’s a whole family dying over there because they lack medicine. Nobody could get to them because of the ice. My boss used to live up this way, and when he read the despatch he sent me up to help them.”
The bootlegger looked at Jimmy intently. “You don’t look like you was lyin’,” he said.
“Of course I’m not lying,” protested Jimmy.
“Here’s the medicine.” And stepping into the plane, he picked up the bulky package he had been transporting and opened it.
The rum runner looked at it and then at Jimmy. “Say, kid,” he blurted out suddenly, “you’re all right. To think you’d come clean from New York and risk your life flyin’ over the lake just to help some sick folks. By Joe! I’ll look in on them folks myself, next time I go over the island. If they need help, they need it quick I reckon. So you’d better be on your way. I’m much obliged for the ride. Maybe this’ll square things with you.” And he reached into his pocket, pulled out a huge roll of bills, peeled off a one hundred dollar gold certificate and thrust it into Jimmy’s hand. “Now you better hustle,” he said.
Jimmy was too much astonished for words. He did not want to take the man’s money. He wanted less to cross the fellow, for the rum runner was quite evidently a desperate character. Wisely, Jimmy decided to go while the going was good. He handed the bill back to the man.
“Thanks,” he said. “It will be worth more to me if you will look after those people on the island. Spend the money for them. I probably can’t get up here again. Good-bye.” And climbing into his plane, Jimmy was off as soon as he could lift his ship from the snow. He opened his throttle wide. In a minute he was far away, beyond the possible range of any pursuing bullet that might come his way. He breathed freely again, and flew straight as an arrow back toward the island.
Once fairly aloft, Jimmy began to meditate on his adventure. Suddenly an idea came to him. “Gee!” he thought. “I’m sure glad this was such an isolated place we landed in. I don’t believe there was a soul within miles. It was a good thing, too. Nobody could get my license number. If any one had noticed it, I might get into a jam with the Canadian officials for landing on Canadian soil without clearing the customs. Well, I guess I had a good excuse, anyway. But just the same, I’m glad nobody could get my number.”