CHAPTER THREE
Fate Laughs Last
They came upon the crashed plane unexpectedly. One moment a solid wall of trees and heavy undergrowth loomed up in front of their paths, and in the next they were bursting through into a small clearing, and there was the wrecked plane. A single flash glance told Dave that his original guess has been correct. The plane was an Air Corps P-Forty. But he wasted just that single glance on the plane. With Freddy Farmer right at his heels, he dashed around to the other side of the crash and dropped to his knees beside the sprawled figure of the injured pilot.
The man’s cries for help had obviously taxed much of his remaining strength. He was in a dead faint, and his face was the color of old parchment, save where it was smeared with blood. As Dave looked down at him he felt his heart turn icy, and then it seemed to loop over in his chest. The pilot was hurt badly, very badly. His chest was horribly crushed, and the fact that he was stretched out on the ground seemed to indicate that crash impact had thrown his body clear. He couldn’t possibly have crawled from the wreck in that condition. That he had summoned up enough strength to call out had been a miracle in itself.
“The poor blighter,” Freddy Farmer said softly. “There isn’t anything we can do for him. I wonder what happened? He’s wearing his 'chute. Why didn’t he bail out?”
Dave started to speak, but he checked himself as the injured man opened his eyes. There was pain and bitter misery in them. And something else, too. Something in their depths. Dave had seen that in the eyes of other men on the far flung battlefields of the world. And he recognized it now as the Shadow of Death.
“Oxygen tank. Something haywire. Smelled funny. Passed out like a light. Woke—up—here.”
The words were spoken in a whisper, and both Dave and Freddy had to strain their ears to catch them. As the man made gurgling sounds in his throat, Dave shook his head.
“Don’t try to talk, old man,” he said gently. “Just try and relax. We’ll do something for you. Just take it easy. We’ll get you out of here and in a nice hospital in no time at all. Just relax and don’t waste your strength.”
Dave knew that he lied as he spoke the words, but the injured pilot’s suffering justified all the lies in the world. But the pilot knew that he was lying. The corners of his mouth twitched in a faint grin, and he shook his head a little.
“It’s okay—know this is it. I don’t mind, but—I must be in Frisco tonight. Urgent. Must see Colonel Welsh—must see Colonel Welsh—must see—him....”