The flames spread rapidly and by the time they reached the crest of the hill, the wreckage was an inferno of fire with roaring, twisting flames leaping into the heavens. Jane shuddered and closed her eyes and the other girls huddled close together.
“This is no time for anyone to have hysterics,” said the steel-nerved Miss Comstock. She turned to the co-pilot. “Did you get a message out that we were crashing?” she asked.
“Yes, but I don’t know whether it got through. The static has been terrific for the last hour.”
“Where are we?”
“Somewhere between Wood River and Kearney and a little south of the line. The Platte can’t be far south of us.”
“I don’t care where the Platte is. I want to get to a phone and find a doctor for Slim and report to the line,” snapped Miss Comstock. She turned to Sue and Alice.
“You girls take charge here. Do what you can for these men while Jane and I start out to see if we can find a farmhouse with a telephone.”
Leaving the other girls on the hilltop, Miss Comstock and Jane plunged away into the night. The chief stewardess strode rapidly, and Jane found it difficult to keep up with her,
“Perhaps a farmer will be attracted by the flames,” she gasped as they topped another hill.
“It’s not likely. If the co-pilot was right, we’re in a rather desolate spot just north of the river. We’ll keep going and see what we can locate.”