“Yes, but your plane’s a wreck,” she replied, pointing beyond the north boundary of the field where flames were licking around the remains of the biplane.
“Forget about the plane,” growled Charlie, “just as long as you came out all right.”
Jane entered the field car and Miss Comstock accompanied her, the mechanics remaining to fold up the parachute. While on their way back to the administration building, the camera plane landed. As soon as it reached the hangar, the director leaped out and hurried toward Jane.
Before he could reach her, Charlie, who had taxied his plane across the field, cut in. He was raging mad at the slip-shod work of the movie men who had made the installation of the smoke pot in the ship Jane had flown.
“You ought to be kicked clear off the field,” he shouted at the director. “There wasn’t any danger in the stunt until we had to depend on the work of some of your men and then everything went wrong. I’ve a good notion to sock somebody.”
“It was a regrettable accident,” admitted the director, attempting to placate the angry Charlie, “and the company is willing to pay Miss Cameron handsomely for her work.”
“Fat lot of good that would have done her if she hadn’t got down all right,” snorted Charlie.
“I’m very sorry the smoke pot set the plane on fire,” said the director turning to Jane. “As you know I was hesitant about having you fly at all.”
“I don’t blame you for the accident,” replied Jane. “We did so much twisting and turning up there that the smoke pot was probably dislodged. I hope it didn’t spoil your film.”
The director smiled. “I think we’ve probably the best airplane shots ever made for the cameramen were able to follow your ship until it crashed. Of course we’ll have to cut a few feet where you jumped, but that can be done very easily.”