Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 146 No. 4 — page 91: what you’re looking at

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

knew. | ee) was a slight one. After a quick glance over the side at the field, Bill started with clutching arms and legs up the steep slope. As he did, Royce, his eyes - somewhat anxiously on his friend, pulled the stick back a little, making the climb less steep. Through the amber glasses he watched. Inch by inch, arms and knees and feet gripping the broad, curving frame, Bill edged his way. Halfway; and then one of his arms shot out and gripped the edge of the rear cockpit. With a pull and a wriggle he pulled himself head first into the cockpit and writhed into place. Like a lunging snake his feet and hand shot to their places on the duplicate controls. Then his eyes suddenly fell on the strong right hand of Royce gripping the other stick. “ Why, you—” Bill shrieked; but the words were swept instantly away from the diving plane. Royce shoved his stick sidewise to make the plane bank and fling his relaxed head and shoulders back into the cockpit. As soon as ‘he had collapsed—artistically—out of sight of the girl, he turned, grinned ami- ably upward at his angry friend and relin- quished control of the plane. Bill McClellan, splitting his attention three ways among reassuring nods to the girl, animated remarks to Royce, and steady control of the Flamingo, spiraled gently downward. Royce, carefully keep- ing under cover, lit a cigarette, took a few puffs, and then pulled a pencil and an en- velope from the pocket of his coat. a you tell her it’s faked I'll say you’re concealing your heroism,” he scrawled. “T’m pro-girl, you tarantula.” He held this composition up to Bill and then restored it to his pocket. Bill sur- veyed it fiercely, and then turned his whole ASSISTS. 561 “ Oh, Bill!” Millicent said in the sudden stillness. The tone in which she said it caused an irrepressible quiver to run through the stubbornly unconscious frame of Royce Grainger. Bill, with much un- necessary violence, and some assistance from the mystified Flip, hauled the pilot out of the rear cockpit and let him trickle to the ground. Royce decided that it was time to come to. ‘Where am I?” he murmured, opening one eye cautiously. “The poor man!” said Millicent, bend- ing over him with so much tenderness that Royce felt well rewarded for his duplicity, ‘““I—I must have fainted,” Royce said, sitting up feebly and looking around. Flip Devans, after a single glance, made a queer sound and disappeared into the darker re- cesses of the hangar. “You did,” said Bill McClellan sullenly. “In the air?” asked Royce, with horror in his voice. | ‘In the air,” Bill corroborated savagely. “ Bill, you saved my life—you must have saved my life, I mean,” Royce declared, solemnly and weakly holding out his hand, ‘And he saved yours, too,” he added, as if by afterthought, turning to the girl, ‘“ He’s the bravest man I ever met, and the most modest.” ‘“*T think so, too,” the girl said softly. A bad fit of coughing came to Royce at that moment, and, feebly excusing himself, he staggered away. But as he tottered he muttered: “ Now let’s see you break away, Bill, you philanderer. You're as good as married now.” After watching Bill and the girl drive away, Flip Devans scratched his right ear for ten minutes with negligible results. That night at 1 A.M., in the little cottage near the field where Royce spent his sleep- ing hours, the telephone jangled with that imperative jangle reserved for the small hours. Royce, sleepily endeavoring to res call some of the new words Bill McClellan had shouted at him in the rear cockpit, an< swered it. “ Royce, old scout, I want to thank pc Pee ear ential e exclaimed excitedly. “What for?” Royce