Air pilots -- Juvenile fiction; Mystery and detective stories; Reporters and reporting -- Juvenile fiction
When Jimmy had finished writing his story, after a fast trip back to his
office, where he arrived well ahead of his deadline, he reported to the
managing editor.
“Well, I see you got here in time anyway, Jimmy,” smiled that official.
“Your photographs are fine, but they are a little small. Why didn’t you
use your regular news camera?”
“I didn’t take the pictures, Mr. Johnson. Johnnie Lee took them. He had
to use his own camera because I was miles away, at Easton. He got the
story, too, and he got the details in fine shape. If it hadn’t been for
Johnnie, I guess I’d still be at the mine.”
“This sounds interesting. How did your young friend get into the affair,
anyway? Tell me about it.”
“There isn’t much to tell, Mr. Johnson. When I landed at Easton, and
didn’t see Handley anywhere, I suspected I might have to wait some time
for him, so I called Johnnie up at his home. By good luck he was right
at hand. He lives within two miles of the wrecked mine. I asked him to
see what he could do for me. He skipped right over in his car, got the
photographs, rounded up the only man who escaped from the mine on his
own feet, and had the whole story in hand when I reached there. He
introduced me to this survivor, who is a foreman in the mine, and so was
able to give us such a comprehensive description of the place. Then
Johnnie took us both back to the mine, so I could see the place and the
crowds for myself. The foreman got me an interview with the mine
superintendent. And by the way, the superintendent had just refused to
talk to Rand.”
“Rand, eh? So he’s working on this story.” The managing editor’s eyes
narrowed to mere slits. He looked at Jimmy intently. “You don’t suppose,
Jimmy, that Rand——”
“Yes, sir, I _do_ suppose so,” interrupted Jimmy. “I’d be willing to bet
my last nickel that it was Rand who tricked me into landing at Easton.
You know the paper he works for has a plane at the same field where we
keep ours. I didn’t see Rand at the field before I took off, but I
believe he was there. And I believe that in some way he got wind of the
fact that you had ordered me to Shenandoah. I have no proof of that, and
I don’t see how I can get proof. He might easily have picked up the fact
from employees about the field. My mechanic knew that you wanted me to
make the trip. He told me so the instant I got in from my flight out to
sea. He might have mentioned the matter to other people about the field.
Of course everybody soon knew about the disaster, and it was a safe bet
that I would have to fly to the scene. Rand would know that.”
“Yes, or some one may have tapped our wire. Or some one may be paying
mechanics at the field to keep tabs on you. I know of at least one
newspaper in this town that wouldn’t be above such work. You just watch
yourself, Jimmy. Keep your eyes and ears open and see if you can’t find
out more about this matter. Everything turned out well this time, but
you won’t always have a Johnnie Lee on the spot to pull you out of a
hole.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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