  In the meantime Ted was growing impatient. Having taxied his plane through the gap into the open sea, he had made a practice run and found her perfect. Then he had sent the plane gliding back into hiding. But what had become of Jack and Mary, and now Stew? When he heard the wail of the jet plane he feared the worst. They had been killed or taken prisoner. Only the fact that six husky natives armed with powerful rifles were hidden away in the shadows beyond his small harbor kept him there. Then suddenly he heard a loud “Yoo—hoo! Yoo—hoo! I’m here! Taxi over!” He recognized the voice. It was Mary. When he slid in close to a flat rock he found her surrounded by a score of natives. She was embracing them and calling them pet names as if they were her brothers and sisters. At last, grabbing up a battered overnight bag and Jack’s violin, she called out a native word that Ted thought must mean “good-by,” then made a flying leap for his left wing, which very nearly touched the rock. From the rock came a roar of farewells. Then two bronze giants leaped into the water to push the plane away. Ted set his motor roaring, slowed it to a crawl, then sent his fighter gliding out onto the moonlit sea. A moment later, like wild birds separated for a time, two planes—one a fighter, the other a freak—came close to one another, then streaked away toward the western night skies. Ted was in the lead. From time to time Jack banked this way and that, testing the jet plane. He went into a short spiral, then righted the plane to climb back into position. “Boy!” he exclaimed. “This is the smoothest flying kite I ever hope to see!” He wanted to tilt her nose and aim at the stars, to try out the plane in the stratosphere, but he could not be sure of the oxygen, and besides, he did not wish to lose contact with Ted. Ted had the chart showing the course the task force was taking. It would be easy to become lost on the vast Pacific, to run out of gas and fall into the sea. What a climax to an exciting adventure that would be! The sky had cleared. The moon shone in all its glory. “No trouble finding the task force on such a night,” he said to Stew. “None at all,” Stew agreed. They zoomed along until Jack’s dial indicated that they had passed the halfway mark in their journey. Should overtake the Black Bee in another hour at the most, he thought. Meanwhile in the plane ahead a transformation was taking place. The battered overnight bag that Mary had taken aboard contained all the small civilian articles she had possessed before leaving Corregidor—also her nurse’s uniform. While Ted watched his instruments, consulted his chart, and thought of many things, her fingers had been busy. First, to be sure, she had performed quite an unfeminine duty—she had studied the swinging machine gun before her, making sure that it was properly loaded and that, if necessity demanded, she could do her full duty by it. Then she had turned to lighter tasks. A bottle of dye-remover, which had been furnished her, came first. This made her white again. After this came face cream, a manicure set, and cosmetics. When this was done, by worming and wriggling like a snake coming out of its skin, she succeeded in completing her transformation from a South Sea native to an Army Nurse. That the transformation was quite complete was proven by the “For Pete’s sake!” that exploded from Ted’s lips when at last, having solved all the problems of the universe, he turned to see if she were really there. “Smile!” he commanded. She smiled. “That’s swell. Thanks,” he exclaimed. “I just wanted to see if you were real.” He was to know much more about that a few moments later. “Listen! I think I hear the roar of a heavy plane!” Mary exclaimed suddenly. Ted listened. The drone of his own motor was in his ears. He heard nothing else. “Guess you imagined that,” he said. “Strange things happen to you in the sky. There are mirages of sound as well as of sight.” She made no reply. The steady drumming was still in her ears. She was tired. It had been a long, exciting day. She wondered vaguely what they would do with her when she got aboard the Black Bee, if she ever did. She hoped there was a tiny cabin where she could sleep forever and ever. Thinking of this, she nearly fell asleep when Ted exclaimed: “Look at that! The light of the moon blinked out and there’s not a cloud in the sky!” “But it’s on now!” she laughed. “Yes, it came right back, but—” “There!” she exclaimed. “It’s off again! No! Now it’s on—” Ted did not answer. He was beginning to think he knew what was up. He hoped the moon would blink again. And he was not disappointed. “Look at the moon! Quick!” He was all excited. “It’s out!” she protested. “Look closer! There’s a Jap snooper between us and the moon. Now it’s below the moon! Once you get it spotted, you can see it anywhere.” “What’s a Jap snooper?” she asked. “A big four-motored flying boat looking for a U. S. convoy.” “Oh!” she breathed. “We have to get that one, don’t we?” “I’ll say we do! Wonder if Jack’s radio works?” Then, “No matter. Don’t dare call him. We’ll get after that snooper alone.” The girl’s hair seemed to rise and stand up like a fuzzy-wuzzy’s, but she was game. “Get them!” she hissed. She was thinking of the horrors of Corregidor and Bataan. Giving his ship the gun, keeping an eye on the giant’s shadow, Ted began to climb. The big ship was slow. They gained rapidly. At just the right moment Ted came racing down upon the snooper. They were almost upon it when Ted let out a burst of murderous fire. He shot past the big ship, swung back, felt his way until the snooper was again between him and the moon, then went straight at her. Again at very close range he pressed the firing button. But what was this? The gun fired a few shots, then jammed. “Bum outfit—not my ship nor my gun,” he groaned. All of a sudden, to his astonishment, he caught the rat—tat—tat of a gun behind him. It was Mary. They were passing beneath the enemy. She was firing the rear gun, straight up. “Good girl!” he exclaimed. “Give it to them!” Flashes of fire came from the enemy, but the shots went wild. “We’ll swing about and meet them almost head on,” he said in a steady voice. “I’ll dip down just in time and you give them all you’ve got.” “I—I’ll do my darndest.” She braced herself for the ordeal. They very nearly missed going low enough. It seemed to Ted that they must have scraped the big boat’s keel, but Mary got in her good work. And it was very good, for scarcely had they passed on to safety when there was a great flash and an explosion as the giant blew up. “Good work! Great stuff!” sounded in Ted’s ears. Jack was speaking. “Better keep radio silence,” was Ted’s answer. All the while Ted and Mary were engaged in the fight, Jack and Stew had been standing by to come in if they were needed. Stew had been all for stepping in at the very start, but Jack had ruled against it. “We don’t know our ship, our guns, or our instruments well enough to risk it,” was his verdict. “Besides, our capture of this secret plane may be of more importance than we think.” “Not much help at the bottom of the sea,” Stew agreed. The fight over, they got back into line, then zoomed on through the night. Ted was astonished when at last, flying high, they sighted the white specks on the sea that would be their task force. And a greatly reinforced one it was. “Three times as many fighting ships as we had before,” he said to Mary. “Three carriers and scores of cruisers and destroyers. This is it! We’re off to the big show!” “This is it!” Stew was saying to Jack. “Only part of it,” Jack replied. “We’ll pick up two other task forces. In all there will be hundreds of ships—more than you have seen in all your life!” Even at that, Jack was thrilled to his fingertips at sight of this great battle armada. “We’ll be back on the deck of the Black Bee in just no time,” he said to Stew. “With luck we shall,” Stew agreed. “But you’d better let the gang know that we’re coming in a freak plane that eats no gas and carries no propeller—or they’ll be shooting us up for wild game!” “I’ll tell Ted to take the lead,” said Jack. So, breaking radio silence, he said: “Go on in ahead of us and tell them who we are, Ted.” “Right. I hope they believe me!” Ted laughed into his mike. “Make ’em a speech, boy! Make ’em a speech!” Jack urged. “And it better be good!” Ted’s speech was a good one, at least good enough, for fifteen minutes later Jack and Stew set the jet plane down quite neatly on the Black Bee’s deck. It would have been hard to tell which created the most excitement—Jack’s freak plane or Ted’s white girl, rescued after having spent two years on a wild cannibal island. Mary dropped out of the competition rather soon, for the ship’s Commander carried her away to a late dinner such as she had not known for two long years. Then he instructed his orderly to attend to all her needs, and to stow her away at last in a small cabin behind the bridge, where she might sleep as long as she pleased. Lieutenant Commander Donald Stone had been asleep when Jack came on board, but an hour later he came up to the flight deck. When he saw the jet plane he stared, rubbed his eyes, and then looked again. “Jack! How did you get it? And where?” he demanded. So, once more Jack told his story. “It seems almost unbelievable!” said the Commander. “Before I was assigned to the Black Bee, I was sent to England to study an English plane that was an exact duplicate of this one!” “But this is an all-American plane, sir,” said Jack. “The maker’s name is on each instrument.” “That means we are considering going into production, or would be,” the Commander corrected, “if this plane had been shipped to us for a tryout. But now—h’m—what are we to make of it? You say the first men who flew it seemed to be British?” “Yes, sir, and the last two were Nazis. They even had three Japs with them.” “Well, anyway,” the Commander said, “we have the plane. What to do about it, that’s the question.” “I’d like to fly her in the big push!” Jack leaned forward eagerly. “She’s a natural for scouting and bombing. No Zero could ever catch her. And in the stratosphere she’d bring you home faster than the wind.” “Tired? Had a hard day?” the Commander demanded. “Practically just rolled out of my berth, sir,” Jack grinned. “Then we’ll try her out right now. Night’s the time for that. We’ll not be spotted.” They did try the plane out. Jack went up alone at first with one pale light showing. The Commander, watching and listening on the deck, was sometimes on tiptoe and sometimes doing a jig as Jack put the screamer through its paces. An ardent enthusiast was the Commander. “Boy! What a plane!” he exclaimed the moment Jack leaped from the cockpit. “What a kite! Have her gassed. I’ll go get my flying jacket and we’ll go up together!” |
|
