Argosy All-Story Weekly, November 12, 1927 — page 50: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

524 back in the cellar, but plugging along with no troubles.” “They’re safe, then!” Hatton almost shouted. “Of course they’re safe, Phil. What’s so unusual about that? Unless— By the eternal, I know now why Carson hit that bridge! Heard some dope about a lot of air stunts up there over the Hudson. Say, Phil—” “We won’t discuss anything about that, Weimar!” Hatton cut in. ‘ Carson’s dead, you say. Well, that’s that. They don’t tell any tales when they’re dead. You ought to know that,” he added, meaningly. ‘Are you ever goin’ to stop ridin’ me about that Chicago matter?” asked Weimar. “T’m playin’ the game, ain’t I?” “You’ve got to play it,” Hatton in- formed him, coolly. ‘“ And don’t ever ask me anything about this race business again as long as you live. You and I are in this thing together, Weimar. You keep a stiff upper lip, and keep it sewed tight to your lower one—see? You got plenty on me, but I got plenty on you. Get that?” “ T never crowed that I had anything on you,” said Weimar, sullenly. “ At the end of this race, no matter how it comes out,” Hatton told his accomplice, “I’m going to marry Betty Sheldon. If we win, we’ve got plenty of jack with all the orders that ‘Il come in. If Sheldon -wins, they’ll have plenty. But even if one of the other companies cops the prize, I’m going to marry Betty Sheldon. I’d marry her if she didn’t have a bent nickel.” “Gee! You got it bad, Phil.” “ That’s all right. And choose your lan- guage whenever you start a sentence about her. Well, come on, Weimar, we'll go down and tune in and get the race stuff over the radio.” | He rose from his chair, picked up his cane, and the two men left the hotel room and rang for the elevator. The whisky he had imbibed had given Hatton temporary false courage. Carson was dead, and that was that. “ You have a radio room in this hotel?” he asked the elevator operator. “ Yes, sir. Mezzanine floor.” “ Let us off there,” said Philip Hatton. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. In the cozily furnished radio quarters of the Hotel Landers, several men and a few ladies were lounging in the crétonned wicker chairs listening to the reports on the great transcontinental non-stop airplane race. The clear tones of the station announcer came through the cone: “There is an unconfirmed report that one of the Caldwell planes is down in west- ern Pennsylvania. The following message has been received from the Pittsburgh Chronicle.” The announcer read the message, which stated that a western Pennsylvania farmer had seen a plane crash in his pasture; that the pilot had crawled out from the wrecked machine and was rushed to a_ hospital, though suffering only from minor injuries. “This message has not been officially confirmed,” went on the announcer, “ but if this is so, it means that four planes are left in the race out of eight starters. One of the Sheldon planes crashed in a trial spin before the race began. The second plane to meet with disaster was the Trico plane piloted by Arthur Carson, that courageous flyer meeting with death near Poughkeepsie, where he crashed into the bridge. Another Trico plane was forced down with a broken oil lead over western Pennsylvania. Now, it is stated unofficially, that one of the Cald- well planes is down, but this is unconfirmed. The next announcement on the great non- stop transcontinental airplane race will be given you in exactly fifteen minutes.” Hatton nodded to Weimar, and the two took the elevator to their room on the upper floor. Since there would be a wait of fifteen minutes, Hatton felt the need of a stimu- lant. Now as he sat there and pushed the bottle over to Weimar, the head of the Trico Corporation felt more at peace with the world. The Trico plane was still lead- ing. Hatton believed that it had a good chance. The only ship in the race that he feared was the remaining Sheldon en- trant, and even if that won he would still be on top. Leave it to Phil Hatton. He would ef- fect a marriage with Betty Sheldon, whom he still believed single and fancy free. was part of the egotism of the man, suc- CORMICGL OOO KS i GO