“I think they will rush my work if I ask them to do it,” said Jimmy. “I am sure they can have the job finished inside of two weeks. Suppose I charter this old ship for that period.”
“Very well, if that is long enough. If it isn’t, make it longer. We mustn’t be caught without a plane. You never can tell when a story will break that will have to be covered by flight.”
Jimmy rented the old Travelair-Whirlwind and had it moved to his hangar. His own ship was rolled away to the shop, where the mechanics could work at it conveniently. Then Jimmy transferred to his new plane all the equipment that he ordinarily carried in his own ship—maps, camera, flash-light, and similar necessary articles. Also, he got out his flying suits, for now he would have to ride in the open.
It was well that Jimmy acted promptly about the old ship; for hardly had he gotten her ready for flight before the managing editor was on the wire again.
“Jimmy,” he said, “I’ll have to ask you to jump right out on another flight. Is everything all right about your new plane?”
“Everything is O. K., Mr. Johnson. I’ve had her rolled into my hangar and serviced. I’ve put all my outfit aboard of her. She’s ready to fly at a minute’s notice, and so am I. Where do I go this time?”
“Jimmy,” said the managing editor, “this is a very serious and important mission which I am about to entrust to you. One of the under secretaries of war from Washington was here to talk to me about certain matters that are to be decided at the peace conference in London, now in session. I cannot tell you what these things are, but they are affairs of great moment. The under secretary left my office to go to Chicago. I have just found that he left some very important papers behind him. These he absolutely must have in Chicago, where he is going for a conference before he starts for Europe. I could stop him by a telegram sent to his train, but it is highly important that he be in Chicago at the earliest possible moment. He must not be delayed a second. At the same time, he absolutely must have these papers. What I want you to do is to get them into his hands. Deliver them to him in person and to no one else.”
“Yes, Mr. Johnson. Have you any suggestions?”
“I’ve been studying maps and time tables, Jimmy, and I think you can do this nicely. If you fly to Bellefonte, which is right on the lighted airway, you can there take a motor car to Tyrone, which is perhaps thirty miles distant. The train on which the under secretary is traveling is due to stop at Tyrone. There you can board his train and put the papers into his hands. I will wire him on the train that the papers he left in my office are going ahead by plane, and will be handed him at Tyrone.”
“You couldn’t possibly have planned the thing out any better, Mr. Johnson,” replied Jimmy. “I know that whole section well. From Bellefonte I shall drive to Milesburg, where I hit the new cement road from Lock Haven to Tyrone. It is as fine a strip of cement as there is in the United States. It runs along the Bald Eagle Creek, and for miles is as level as a floor. A motor car can almost fly along there. But you should have a car at the flying field to meet me. The field is several miles outside of the town of Bellefonte, and I’ll save a lot of time if the car is on hand when I arrive.”