Miss Comstock nodded.
“See that your chute packs don’t foul. If I signal three times on your light you’ll know we’re in trouble. Four sharp flashes will mean you’ve got to unload.”
“What about yourself?” demanded the chief stewardess.
“I’ll get along all right,” said Slim. “You get out of the cabin if I signal for a jump.”
The radio operator ran out with the final weather report and the tractor rolled the big doors away. The biplane quivered as the full strength of the wind whistled through the hangar. Then the ship rolled ahead, flame spitting from the three long exhausts. The runways had been swept clear of snow by the wind and Slim Bollei opened the throttle. In no time at all they were in the air, turning north for the 160-mile flight to Lytton.
With a quartering wind from the Rockies, the plane pitched badly and Miss Comstock and Jane fastened their safety belts. Even then they were thrown around sharply.
The cabin warmed only slightly, for the older ships had been poorly insulated. Jane beat her hand together to keep the circulation flowing. The air speed indicator hovered around the 90 mile an hour mark. At that rate it would take them nearly two hours to make the trip. The ground disappeared in the drifting haze of snow and Jane knew the pilot was flying blind. She was glad that Slim was rated one of the best flyers on the system, for he would have need of every ounce of the skill in his capable hands.
For an hour they bored through the storm. Then the middle motor started to sputter and the light flashed three times. They unfastened their safety belts and stood in the aisle.
“I’m going ahead to see what’s wrong,” said Miss Comstock.
She hurried forward and Jane listened intently to the uneven firing of the motor.