By ARTHUR STRINGER WN.USER.viCt
CHAPTER XIX
Lynn, following after Alan as he
Strode toward the lake-front, real
ized that he was already back in
his man’s world of violence and con
flict That realization grew even
sharper when she saw him abruptly
stop at the cliff edge and stare
across the lake where the evening
wild fowl were feeding in the shal
lows. At the same time that she
saw him drop on one knee and take
aim with his rifle she caught sight of
two figures running down the oppos
ing shore slope to where a plane
of faded blue stood moored against
a spruce-fringed bank.
Slade shot twice, but with no ap
parent effect on the running figures.
Lynn could see them swarming
about the pontoons and throwing off
the mooring gear.
‘‘It’s Tumstead and Frayne,”
Slade cried. “They’re getting away
with your plane. They’re doing what
1—”
But Lynn’s voice rose above the
other.
‘‘There's Father,’’ she cried, “run
ming through the trees, down the
bank. He knows they’ve tricked
him.”
"Come on,” he cried, “we must
head them off.”
“How?” she asked, panting after
him.
“With my plane,” he said over his
shoulder. “If they get away now
they’re gone for good.”
She kept up with him as they
Founded the lake arm and bore down
on the Snow-Ball Baby.
“Keep your eye on ’em,” Slade
called out as he made adjustments
to the tail-control over his head. She
knew, by the feel of the pulsating
Structure enclosing her, that he was
flying with a full-open throttle.
“What do we do,” she demanded,
“when we get up with them?”
Slade indicated the rifle that had
been thrown into the cabin.
She observed, a moment later, that
Slade was climbing a little. She won
dered as to the meaning of this ma
neuver. Then her eyes narrowed
with a new wonder. For against the
0>pal and gold of the northern sky
she saw yet another pair of wings
arrowing out of the distance. Her
hope, at the moment, was that it
might be the official plane from
the Mountie headquarters at Copper
mine, that it was help coming when
help was most needed. But as she
stared out through the paling light
she saw that it wasn’t a plane. It
was a trumpeter swan, breasting the
evening air lanes.
It was like a light going out when
the duller blue wings of the plane in
front of the watching girl veered a
little and came between her and
the arrowing white body.
That moment of obscured vision
left her always in doubt as to how
it happened. It might have been a
split-second error in judgment. It
might have been a final spit of ven
om on Tumstead’s part, a Anal flow
ering of hate for what he could ac
cept as the sign and symbol of his
final defeat. But as the bird
swerved, to avoid its bigger rival,
the plane also swerved. They
swerved in the same direction, at
the same moment, and came to
gether.
Slade banked sharply and turned,
with a repeated shout as he saw
the blue v/ings flounder and twist in
their fall.
"They've lost control,” he cried.
"They’re down.”
He circled blindly, waiting for the
crash. Then he dropped lower,
marking the spot where the tangled
mass of metal and fabric rested on
Its bed of broken limestone.
Lynn knew, at his quick glance
about, that he was looking for open
water on which to land. But she
remained silent until the ship was
set down and they were ashore.
“Is it the end?” she asked.
“That’s what we’ve got to find
out,” he said.
He mounted the bank and started
running through the scrub, without
waiting for her. She followed him,
as best she could.
She found Slade waiting for her
on one of the limestone ridges. He
stood there, staring at the flare that
lighted up the evening sky just over
the next hill.
“You’d better stay here,” he said,
his eyes on the glow above the hill
top. He knew well enough what
that glow meant.
Lynn watched him as he went over
the hill. It seemed a long time
before he came back. He flung him
self down beside her and sat there
silent and dispirited.
“They didn't get away,” he
finally observed in a voice devoid
of all triumph.
Lynn, who had taken her turn at
glancing about at their world of
rock and water and gold-green twi
light, turned back to her tired com
panion.
“There’s nothing to do,” said Slade
as he rose to h>s feet, “except to
head back while there’s still a lit
tle light left.”
Slade, once more hightailing it
homeward from Coppermine,
glanced down at the mottled coun
try crawling under his floats.
He did a little sum on a slide rule,
to check his ground speed, looked at
his watch, and reached for his ear
phones. He smiled at the newness
if the 'phones and the newness of
the compact little radio set. They
—1»—
“They didn't get away," he observed in a voice devoid of all triumph.
made the rest of the Snow-Ball Baby
look old and battered. But Stan
Cruger had insisted on putting them
there. He wanted no more weeks
of silence from either of his bush
planes. And in fifteen minutes, back
at Waterways, Stan was to tune in
and get his report
Slade, while he waited, worked
his dial and heard the silent ether
become busy with its multitudinous
voices. He caught a whiff of or
chestra music from KNX, away off
in Los Angeles. He caught a frag
mentary message going out from
Royal Canadian Signals at Yellow
knife, and the air-gossip of pilots
to ground-points along the Basin. He
picked up snatches of weather re
ports and flying positions.
Slade shut out the ghostly voices
and once more consulted his watch.
After a glance ahead and a second
glance at his instrument panel he
turned back to his radio.
“CF-KCB calling Norland Airways
at Waterways. Slade calling Stan
Cruger at Waterways. CF-KCB call
ing Norland at Waterways . . .
Come in, Stan. What’s my signal
strength? . . . Yes, I hear you fine.
I’m forty-three minutes out of Wolf
Lake Post heading southwest by
south with a pay load of concen
trates that ought to make up for
that lost week. Yes, I’m feeling fit.
But I want to swing in before nine.
I’ve got to.”
Slade’s smile widened as the voice
of his partner took the desolation
out of the emptiness.
“I’ll be here at the port when you
shuffle in,” that voice was saying,
"and I think there’s going to be
somebody else waiting. But I want
ed to tell you the Kovalevka had
been libeled and held off Echo Har
bor . . . The Kovalevka, that Rus
sian icebreaker . . . And our Lock
heed lands at Yellowknife about five
today . . . But wait a minute. Stay
in, CF-KCB. Can you hear me, Lin
dy? There's a lady here waiting to
speak to you.”
The seconds seemed long as Slade
waited.
“Can you hear me, Alan?” a bell
like voice was saying to him. It
was only a voice, winging half a
thousand miles over a water-span
gled wilderness, but it brought a
warming glow to his body.
“Yes, darling, I hear you,” he
answered.
He knew it was Cleaver, working
VBK at Coppermine, who at that
point cooed across the ether: "And
the sugar-lanes will now be open.”
“Are you all right?” the bell-like
voice asked.
“I’ll be better in six hours," Slade
announced. “For then I’ll be see
ing you.”
“It will be the longest six hours In
my life,” Lynn’s voice complained.
But her laugh was a happy one.
“What did the Padre say about
Thursday?” he asked.
“He won’t start east until Friday.
He’s more excited than I am, Alan.
The old dear’s wired to have orchids
and orange blossoms flown in from
California.”
“But why is he starting east?”
questioned Slade.
“He’s decided on a twelve-week
course at McGill,” was Lynn’s an
swer. “He says it’s to brush up on
his surgery. But I’m hoping they’ll
hold him there through the winter.”
“He’s a grand man,” Slade pro
claimed.
“So is Lindy, lady,” a remote and
altogether unplaced voice cut in.
“Alan, are you there?” Lynn’s
softer voice inquired. “There seems
to be interference.”
“There is,” said the unknown.
“But take it from me, lady, he’*
all right. Congratulations!”
Lynn’s laugh came clear.
“Who’s your friend out there?”
she inquired.
“I think it’s Tony Frendall at Fort
Smith. I’ll reckon with that bird
later on.”
“We don’t seem to have much
privacy,” said Lynn.
“You don’t get it on the air, lady,”
announced a newer and deeper
throated intruder.
“Then this will have to be all.
Alan,” the bell-like voice was say
ing. “Good-by, darling,” answered
Slade.
He was about to remove his ear
phones, but a babel of words held
his hand arrested.
“So you’re going to marry the
girl, Lindy!”
He interpreted that as from Cap
Bickell on the Basin's mail plane
heading north to Herschel.
“I’m telling the world.” Slade
found the courage to affirm. There
was even a ring of defiant pride in
his proclamation.
"Perhaps more than you imagine,
big boy,” an unknown and caustic
voice observed through the aerial
chatter.
They meant well, Slade remem
bered as he switched off and re
moved his earphones. But it made
him think of rough high-tops tram
pling through a flower bed. And
he wanted to be alone, under that
lonely sky of robin’s-egg blue, to
think about his happiness.
I THE END]
U. S. Shipbuilders Break
All Records to Break Axis
The United States is
now nearing the peak of
production in the great
est ship-building pro
gram in world history.
It now appears quite
certain that the 8,000 000
deadweight-ton goal set
by President Roosevelt
for 1942 in the directive
he issued at the time of
his “State of the Nation”
address in January of
this year will be reached.
One of the outstanding
accomplishments by
American shipbuilders
in the past year has been
the reduction of building
time they have made,
particularly in the emer
gency cargo vessels of
the Liberty ship type.
These pictures give you
close-ups of our Liberty
fleet in-the-making.
Shoien at right are (top)
the Patrick Henry, first of
the Maritime commission s
Liberty ships. (Below)
Hands upraised in a vic
tory salute, shipyard work
ers at Bethlehem-Fair field,
Baltimore, hold the Mari
time Eagle aloft in the
main mast of a Liberty
ship.
/ * \
Victory
Parade
tv . A
Sidewise launching of an EC-2 Liberty ship at a Gulf Coast port.
Above: A noontime
throng of workers at the
Cal ship yards pose for
their picture. In the
background is n large
pre-fabricated section of
a Liberty ship's prow.
Left: A Liberty ship
goes to swell the ranks
of the Victory Fleet.
Twcnty-four-liour shift prevails as three Liberty ships are pre
pared for launching at a West Coast shipyard.
Sturdy cargo ships fill the sealanes leading to all fronts.
By VIRGINIA VALE
Released by Western Newspaper Union.
MAYBE hearts didn’t
break, but some of them
certainly cracked when Jinx
Falkenburg announced her
engagement to Tex McCrary,
and admitted that the ring
she was wearing had been
given to her by him when she was
in Miami, where he was a candidate
for a commission in the army air
forces. There’d bee* rumors that
she'd wed him, but her other suitors
Just kept hoping.
-*
George Raft finally bought his
contract from Warner Bros., after
being under suspension for most of
the last year. He did get away to
make “Broadway” for Universal,
paying Warners $27,500 in order to
do so. He’s now working in their
“Background to Danger,” his first
picture made at the studio since
he did “Man Power,” back in 1911.
Maybe now we’ll see him more
often. ,
-#
Wasn’t it nice news that an all
girl troupe of American entertain
ers, headed by Kay Francis, Carole
Landis and Martha Raye, had ar
rived safely in Great Britain?
They’ll entertain for our troops
KAY FRANCIS
there, Miss Francis acting as mis
tress of ceremonies. They’ve been
appearing at army and navy train
ing bases here, so they know what
the boys want. USO Camp Shows
sent them.
-*
Orson Welles’ new radio program
for the Aviation Industry Isn’t his
family's first brush with aviation.
His father long ago had the Idea of
attaching a glider by a long rope
to an automobile. He tried It out
with a family retainer in the plane,
and everything worked fine till the
aged flier screamed for help. No
body’d worked out how to land the
plane! Somebody cut the rope and
the plane fell, with slight damage to
the experiment’s victim. A photo
graph of the crash is Orson’s proof
of his family’s contribution to avia
tion.
/T»
Bob Hope and Lenore Aubert were
hit on the head by the White House,
when working in “They Got Me
Covered.” A giant cutout of the
President’s mansion, suspended
from overhead by wires, broke loose
when a wind machine wrenched it
from its moorings and sent it crash
ing to the floor. It just missed
wrecking the career of one of our
best comedians for some time to
come.
-*
George Sanders and Tom Conway,
real life brothers who play brothers
in RKO Radio’s “The Falcon’s
Brother," were born in Russia.
Their father was English, their
mother Russian. George worked in
South America, Tom in Africa, and
Hollywood united them.
-$
Jerry Wald, producer of “Action
in the North Atlantic,” recently be
came the father of a son. Then the
same thing happened to the assist
ant property man. Then to Actor
Paul McWilliams Jr. “Cancel that
order for trained seagulls,” cried
Director Lloyd Bacon. “In this
picture our ship is going to be fol
lowed by storks.”
I
Joan Leslie, star of “The Hard
Way,” danced 675 miles during the
making of the picture, as proved by
a pedometer. But she's now brush
ing up on her jitter-bugging, to cope
with the dancing of the service men
with whom she dances at the Holly
wood Canteen.
_
John Garfield’s four - year - old
daughter, Katherine, gets a chance
to follow in her father’s footsteps in
an acting career; she’ll play her
father’s daughter in “Air Force,”
because Director Howard Hawks
thinks she has talent.
-*
ODDS AND ENDS—Paul Muni will
play Sun Yat-Sen in a biographical film
of the Chinese leader . . . Walter Hus
ton, who plays the f>arl of a Norwegian
in “Edge of Darkness,” devotes much of
his spare time to playing Uncle Sam in
a short subject for the navy . . . Grade
Fields will sing a number of her popu
lar songs in Sol Lesser’s “Stage Door
Canteen”; a share of the film’s British
gross receipts will go to her favorite
charities in England ... Charles Ijiugh
ton and his wife, Elsa Lanchester, are
becoming American citizens; they took
out their first papers about three months
ago. ,
HOUSEHOLD
nirrrass
A tip for pumpkin pie: When
making a pumpkin pie and the pie
is nearly done, carefully draw it
to the edge of the oven and then
sprinkle lightly with grated yellow
cheese mixed with shredded nut
meats. Return to the oven and
when the pie is done it will have a
delicately flavored crusty top.
• • •
To keep cookies and cakes moist
and tasty, store in an airtight
place such as a cake box or stone
jar as soon as they are cool. Do
not merely cover the cake with
cloth or waxed paper and let stand
for several hours.
• * •
When your feet are hot and
tired, bare them and stand in the
bathtub without the stopper being
in the outlet. Let cold water strike
the feet with force for a short
time, then rub them briskly with
olive oil.
• • *
Linoleum is something new in
wall coverings. It is durable and
easily cleaned.
• • •
Candied grapefruit and orange
peels are always tasty additions
to liquid sauces to be used over
baked or steamed puddings.
• • •
Eggs beat up best when allowed
to stand 10 minutes in room tem
perature—about 72 degrees.
• • •
If you do not have game scissors
to help with the carving use a reg
ular heavy kitchen shears to cut
skin, flesh and for disconnecting
the joints.
• • •
When rolling out the last of the
doughnut mixture roll in a few
currants, cut dough in small fancy
shapes and fry in the usual man
ner. These will please the chil
dren and the grown-ups too.
P COLDS'MISERIES
METRO
For colds’ coughs, nasal congestion, muscle
aches get Penetro—modern medication in a
mutton suet base. 25*. double supply 3W.
One-Third Women Average
A recent study of women’s fig
ures revealed that, out of every
thousand, 339 are average, mean
ing that they range proportionate
ly from 110 to 144 pounds in weight
and from five feet one inch to five
feet four inches in height.
Millions of people suffering from simple
Piles, hare found prompt relief wills
PAZO ointment. Here's why: First,
PAZO ointment soothes inflamed areas
— relieves pain and itching. Second,
PAZO ointment lubricates hardened,
dried parts—helps prevent cracking and
soreness. Third. PAZO ointment tends
to reduce swelling and check bleeding.
Fourth, It's easy to use. PAZO oint
ment's perforated Pile Pipe makes ap
plication simple, thorough. Your doctor
can tell you about PAZO ointment.
Inexpensive Luxury
Then let us laugh. It is the
cheapest luxury man enjoys.—Wil
liam Matthews.
For You To Feel Well
{4 hour* every day. 7 day* every
week, never stopping, the kidney* filter
waste matter from the blood.
If more people were aware of bow the
kidney* must constantly remove sur
plus fluid, excess add* and other waste
matter that cannot stay in the blood
without injury to health, there would
be better understanding of why the
whole system is upset when kidney* fail
to function properly.
Burning, scanty or too frequent urina
tion sometimes warns that something
is wrong. You may suffer nagging back
ache, headaches, diaxineas, rheumatic
pains, getting up at n'khts. swelling.
Why not try Doani Ptlls? You will
be using a medicine recommended the
country over. Boon's stimulate the func
tion of the kidneys and help them to
flush out poisonous waste from the
blood. They contain nothing harmful.
Get Boon's today. Use with confidence.
At all drug storea.
WNU—U48—42
For Victory
BUY U.S.BONDS
AND STAMPS