An hour later, wrapped in his eight foot square eiderdown robe, he lay on the floor of the narrow cabin prepared for sleep.
Sleep did not come at once. There were many troubles of the day that must first be put to rest. He thought of his motor, going over it piece by piece. In this land of the North much depends upon the pilot’s care of his motor. Curlie was not neglectful. Even in his hours of repose his thoughts were upon his task.
That his was a position of grave responsibility he knew right well. Until his coming into this land he had thought of aviation as a pleasant luxury, mostly to be indulged in by the rich and the near-rich; a necessity in war, a luxury in time of peace. But in this far-flung land of snow the airplane has come to be a thing of great service. Journeys that required three months of hard mushing after dog teams; of sleeping in rough, uninhabited cabins at night; of facing cold, hunger and darkness, are now accomplished with great comfort in three days. In this land the airplane has made a village a thousand miles from Edmonton one of that city’s suburbs. Curlie had not been slow to sense all this.
“And there’s gold,” he told himself. “‘Gold hunters of the air.’ That’s what Johnny Thompson called them. I wonder how it’s done.”
Yes, Curlie had seen Johnny Thompson. You remember Johnny. He had been Curlie’s pal in more than one strange land and with him had participated in many a mysterious and thrilling adventure.
He had not come upon Johnny this time by accident. Neither was Curlie’s presence in northern Canada an accident. He was here because he had a friend, and that friend was Johnny Thompson.
Curlie, like many another young fellow, had bumped squarely into the regretted “depression” that, sweeping like a tidal wave over the land, had left many a man high and dry, with no home and no place to eat. Having been in the air mail service in America, he was dropped when demand slackened and fewer men were needed. Men who had more flying hours to their credit had been retained.
In time of depression one must often rely upon his friends. Little groups of true friends, drawn closer together by the winds of adversity, stand back to back, fighting the battle together.
So it happened that Johnny, finding himself in the North and learning of a temporary vacancy, spoke a good word for his friend Curlie Carson.
“And now,” thought Curlie, “here I am. And here I stay until my last dollar is spent. A land where airplanes are a real necessity, that’s the land for me!