Part 14 (2/2)

”Tuck me in for the night?” asked Mrs. Van Verity Vanness. ”Why, I'll never be able to sleep.”

”I think you will. You can unfasten your safety belt now and I'll see what I can find in the way of magazines.”

Jane returned a minute later with half a dozen copies of the latest magazines. She adjusted the reading light for her companion and Mrs.

Van Verity Vanness, seeing Jane so calm and casual, forced herself to overcome the fear of flying which had sickened her. She selected a magazine from the armful Jane offered and settled herself comfortably in her seat.

”I'm really commencing to enjoy it,” she smiled, ”but there's a bit of a draft around my feet.”

Jane hurried back to the compartment where a supply of warm, woolly blankets were kept. Selecting a pretty grey and pink one she wrapped it around the elderly woman's legs. With Mrs. Van Verity Vanness comfortable and apparently satisfied for some time, Jane opened the Cheyenne paper.

She halfway expected to find a front page story on the dash across country of Mrs. Van Verity Vanness in a special plane for almost any activity of this multi-millionaire widow was worth a half column of s.p.a.ce. Instead, Jane read the alarming news that a mail plane had been robbed early that morning by aerial bandits. The s.h.i.+p, a Bertold single engined plane, had been shot down in southeastern Iowa on the Kansas City to Chicago run and more than a hundred thousand in currency taken from the registered mail pouch which it carried. The pilot had been seriously wounded by the two bandits, who had used a machine gun to force the mail s.h.i.+p down.

Jane resolved right then and there to keep all of the papers away from Mrs. Van Verity Vanness. If aerial bandits were operating, it was entirely within the realm of possibility for them to attack a special chartered by a woman as wealthy as her companion.

The tri-motor hurled through the night, the speed increasing as Charlie Fischer pushed it up another thousand feet to benefit by an even stronger tail wind at that alt.i.tude. They roared along at between 165 and 170 miles an hour, nearly 50 miles above the usual cruising speed of a plane of that type.

Below them winked the revolving beacons which lighted the transcontinental airway at night. Occasionally they sighted the dim gleams from some prairie town.

Mrs. Van Verity Vanness let the magazine drop into her lap as she closed her eyes, now thoroughly relaxed and without fear of anything happening to the plane. It was 11:30 and Jane leaned over and spoke to her companion.

”I'll bring the bouillon and sandwiches right away. Then you can go to sleep.”

Mrs. Van Verity Vanness nodded contentedly and Jane went back to her pantry.

The bouillon, golden brown, smelled delicious as it gurgled out of the thermos jug and the sandwiches were almost paper thin with a tasty filling of olives and salad dressing.

Jane put the lunch on a silver tray and carried it into the cabin where she placed it on a small portable table which she had put between the seats.

”Several hours ago I thought I'd never be able to eat again,” smiled the woman of millions, ”but this actually appeals to me.”

Jane agreed, for Miss Comstock had personally prepared the lunch and it should be delicious. The bouillon was expertly flavored and the sandwiches were the kind that made even the daintiest eaters hunger for more.

When the last sandwich had disappeared and the second cup of bouillon was only a memory, Mrs. Van Verity Vanness leaned back in her chair and smiled happily.

”You're a wonder,” she told Jane. ”I think I'll ask the company to send you clear through to New York with me.”

”Our division only goes to Chicago,” replied Jane, ”but I'd be delighted to go on if the general manager approves.”

”I think he'll approve if I ask it. After all, I'm paying almost enough for this trip to buy one of their planes.”

Jane removed the luncheon dishes, brought another blanket, adjusted the seat at a reclining angle and tucked Mrs. Van Verity Vanness away for the night.

”We'll land at North Platte, Omaha, and Iowa City,” she said, ”but there'll be no need for you to disturb yourself. I'll inquire for messages at each stop and waken you if there is any news.”

In less than five minutes Mrs. Van Verity Vanness was sleeping soundly and Jane went back to her pantry to stow away the dishes she had used for their midnight lunch.

The flasher which signaled that the chief pilot wanted to talk to her came on and Jane walked ahead, careful not to disturb her pa.s.senger.

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