Helen in the Editor's Chair Part 28

Helen nodded in agreement and Tom bolted into the telephone booth, got the long distance operator at Rolfe and put in a collect call for the Cranston bureau of the a.s.sociated Press.

Two minutes later Tom announced that the A.P. was on the line. Helen entered the booth and took the receiver. Tom pulled the door shut and Helen was closeted with her big story in the tiny room, the mouthpiece before her connecting her with the bureau where they were waiting for the story.

"Is Mr. McClintock in the office?" she asked.

"He's busy," replied the voice. "I'll take the message."

"Tell Mr. McClintock that Helen Blair is calling about the Rand story,"

she insisted.

She heard the connection switch and the chief of the Cranston bureau snapped a question at her.

"What's the matter?" he asked. "Rand give you the usual denial?"

The sharpness of the words nettled Helen.

"No he didn't," she replied. "He gave me the whole story. He'll leave New York within the next two weeks on a non-stop refueling flight around the world."

"What!" shouted the A.P. chief.

Helen repeated her statement.

"You've got the biggest story in days," gasped McClintock. "Have you got plenty of substantiation in case he tries to deny it later."

"Two witnesses," replied Helen, "and a map of his route which he drew and signed for me."

"That's enough. Let's go. Give me everything he told you. Spell the names of his foreign refueling points slowly. I'll take it directly on a typewriter and we'll start the bulletins out on the main news wires."

The first excitement of the story worn off, Helen found herself exceedingly calm. In short, clear sentences she related for McClintock all of the information "Speed" Rand had given her.

"Send me the map he drew by the first mail," the A.P. correspondent instructed. "It will make a great feature story. Thanks a lot, Miss Blair. You're a real newspaperwoman."

CHAPTER XIV _The Queen's Last Trip_

When Helen left the close confines of the telephone booth after completing her call to the a.s.sociated Press she suddenly felt very weak and tired.

"What's the matter?" Tom asked.

"I feel just a little faint," confessed Helen. "Guess the excitement of getting the story and sending it in was a little too much."

"Take my arm," her brother commanded. "We'll go back to the restaurant and get a gla.s.s of milk and a sandwich and you'll feel all right in a few minutes."

The food restored Helen's strength and in less than half an hour she was her old self, ready to enjoy the Fourth of July celebration.

Every boat from Rolfe increased the size of the crowd at Sandy Point. The speedboats dashed down the lake carrying their capacity of pa.s.sengers, turned and sped back to the town for another load. The _Queen_ sedately churned its way through the lake, its double decks jammed with humanity.

As they stood on the beach Helen wondered if the old lake boat would come through the day without a mishap. Almost any small accident could throw the pa.s.sengers into a panic and the capsizing of the _Queen_ might follow if they rushed to one side of the flat-bottomed old craft.

The _Queen_ sidled up to the big pier at Sandy Beach and Capt. Billy Tucker stuck his white head out of a window in the pilot house and watched his pa.s.sengers rush for the beach.

"He's in his glory on a day like this," Tom said, "but it's probably the last year for the _Queen_. The boat inspectors won't dare pa.s.s the old tub next year no matter how much they like Captain Billy."

"What will he do if they don't license the _Queen_?" asked Margaret.

"Oh, he'll get along all right," said Tom. "Captain Billy has plenty salted away. It's just that he loves the lake and the _Queen_."

The planes of the air circus were wheeling overhead and they left the beach and started for the air field. The attractions along the midway were gathering their share of the crowd and the mechanical band on the merry-go-round blared with great gusto. The ferris wheel was swinging cars loaded with celebrators into the tree-tops and the whip and other thrill rides were crowded.

Beyond the midway was the large pasture which had been turned into a landing field. A st.u.r.dy wire fence had been thrown across the side toward the summer resort and it was necessary to have a pa.s.s or ticket to get through the gate.

Two small stunt planes were taking off when the members of the _Herald_ staff arrived and the three large cabin planes were being filled with pa.s.sengers. Two of the planes carried eight pa.s.sengers apiece while the largest, a tri-motor, could accommodate 12. They were st.u.r.dy, comfortable looking craft and Helen noticed that they appeared to be in the best possible condition.

They presented their pa.s.ses at the gate and were admitted to the field.

"Speed" Rand, hurrying along toward the largest plane, caught sight of them.

"Want to ride?" he called.

The answer was unanimous and affirmative.

A minute later they were seated in the 12-pa.s.senger plane in comfortable wicker chairs. The door was closed, the motors roared, they b.u.mped over the pasture and then floated away on magic wings.

The ground dropped away from them; the resort and the lake were miniatures bordered by the rich, green lands of the valley and at the far end of the lake, Rolfe, a handful of houses, basked.

It was glorious, thrilling, and Helen enjoyed every minute. They swung over the lake where the speedboats were cutting white swaths through the water. They did not cross to the east side and Helen guessed that the pilots were afraid some pa.s.senger with unusually keen eyes might detect the remains of the plane Rand had damaged that morning.

Then the trip was over. They drifted down to the field, the motor idling as they lost alt.i.tude. Helen sat absolutely rigid for a few seconds, wondering if the plane would land all right. The motors roared again, the nose came up and they settled to earth with little more than a b.u.mp.

Rand greeted them when they stepped out of the plane.

"Like it?" he inquired.

"You bet," said Tom enthusiastically. "Biggest thrill I ever had."

"How about you?" Rand asked Helen.

"I loved every minute until we started to come down," she smiled. "Then I wondered where we were going to stop and how, but everything came out all right and I really did enjoy it."

"Get your story in to the A.P.?" asked the flyer.

"Just as soon as I could reach a telephone," Helen replied. "The bureau chief appeared pleased."

"He should be," chuckled Rand. "It seems like every place I've gone for the last month there's been a reporter waiting to ask me questions about my world flight. Honestly, it got so I used to look under the bed at night for fear I might talk in my sleep and wake up in the morning to find a reporter had been hidden in my room."

Another flyer called Rand and the famous aviator slipped away through the crowd. It was the last they were to see of him and they turned and went back to the attractions of the midway.