Then she saw a red flag waving from the camera plane. It was the signal for the dive on which she was to release the smoke pot.

Charlie was well above her, diving again. Jane waited until his plane was almost on her. Then she spun her own ship into a twisting plunge and tripped the trigger of the smoke pot apparatus.

Almost instantly a cloud of thick, heavy smoke rolled out of the fuselage behind her and Charlie's plane disappeared for a second in the smoke screen.

Jane watched the altimeter. She had been up 3,100 feet when she released the smoke pot. At a thousand feet above ground she was to level off and scoot back to the Cheyenne field.

She had been too busy warding off Charlie's attack to watch just where they were and was surprised to find herself just north of the home field. For all Jane knew they might have been thirty miles away.

The biplane spun down dizzily, the speed increasing until the wing wires screamed in protest. But it was good action and Jane knew the movie cameras would catch every bit of it as the smoking plane thundered toward the ground.

She felt remarkably cool as the speed increased. She had every confidence in the st.u.r.dy old biplane and at 1,800 feet she pulled the stick back a bit to see how the plane responded. To her horror there was no lessening in the angle of the dive and she turned quickly. The controls had jammed and the tail of her plane was ablaze, set afire in some way by the smoke pot.

Chapter Twenty-one

Too Much Action

For a moment sickening panic gripped Jane. Then she remembered that Charlie had insisted that she wear a parachute and there was plenty of time for her to bail out of the falling plane.

Jane looked back. Charlie's ship sped out of the trail of smoke and she saw his tense face peering over the c.o.c.kpit. Behind him boomed the camera ship, recording every movement of the planes.

The flames, whipped by the wind, mounted and Jane knew there was little time to lose. They were down to 1,200 feet and she steeled herself for the leap from the plane.

It was her first jump and she hesitated for a moment. Desperately she tried the controls again but there was no hope there. The plane was falling at an alarming rate of speed.

Jane crouched in the seat, making sure that the chute was clear of any obstructions. It took nerve and a cool head to do what was ahead. At 1,000 feet she shot out of the plane, doubling over twice as she tumbled through the air.

The blazing biplane roared past her and she pulled the chute ring, using both hands. Behind her the pilot chute cracked out and then the great silken umbrella filled with air. Her plunge downward was stopped suddenly and she found herself drifting 800 feet above the ground.

The leap from the plane had been so sudden Jane had no time to a.n.a.lyze her feelings while she fell, but now, swinging below the parachute, she felt weak and sick.

The biplane spun downward, smoke and flame shooting from the fuselage.

Close behind it followed Charlie, riding it to the ground, while above hovered the camera ship.

Jane was swinging under the chute in a wide arc. That would never do for she would be slapped hard against the ground. Pulling on the lines above, she checked the swinging. There was a slight wind from the north that would take her down on the Cheyenne airport.

Jane watched the biplane closely as it neared the ground. It struck, nose first and then disappeared in a volcano of smoke and flame.

Jane closed her eyes and when she opened them she had drifted past the scene of the wrecked plane and was coming down over the north boundary of the airport. A car from the main building was racing toward her.

Jane recognized the ambulance trailing after it. They were taking no chances.

She tried to relax as the chute neared the ground. She knew that tense muscles might result in a broken bone for landing in a parachute was anything but a lark.

Three field mechanics jumped from the car and ran to catch Jane as she landed. One of them managed to reach her in time to ease the shock of the fall, but she got a severe jar.

They helped Jane out of the chute harness and she stepped clear just as Miss Comstock arrived aboard the ambulance.

"Are you hurt, Jane?" she asked anxiously.

"Just scared a little," confessed Jane, who now felt trembly all over.

"I was so afraid you weren't going to jump in time," said the chief stewardess. "I'm about ready to go to the hospital myself."

Just then Charlie Fischer pan-caked in for a quick landing, leaped from his plane and ran toward them.

"All right, Jane?" he asked.

"Yes, but your plane's a wreck," she replied, pointing beyond the north boundary of the field where flames were licking around the remains of the biplane.

"Forget about the plane," growled Charlie, "just as long as you came out all right."

Jane entered the field car and Miss Comstock accompanied her, the mechanics remaining to fold up the parachute. While on their way back to the administration building, the camera plane landed. As soon as it reached the hangar, the director leaped out and hurried toward Jane.

Before he could reach her, Charlie, who had taxied his plane across the field, cut in. He was raging mad at the slip-shod work of the movie men who had made the installation of the smoke pot in the ship Jane had flown.

"You ought to be kicked clear off the field," he shouted at the director. "There wasn't any danger in the stunt until we had to depend on the work of some of your men and then everything went wrong. I've a good notion to sock somebody."

"It was a regrettable accident," admitted the director, attempting to placate the angry Charlie, "and the company is willing to pay Miss Cameron handsomely for her work."

"Fat lot of good that would have done her if she hadn't got down all right," snorted Charlie.

"I'm very sorry the smoke pot set the plane on fire," said the director turning to Jane. "As you know I was hesitant about having you fly at all."

"I don't blame you for the accident," replied Jane. "We did so much twisting and turning up there that the smoke pot was probably dislodged. I hope it didn't spoil your film."

The director smiled. "I think we've probably the best airplane shots ever made for the cameramen were able to follow your ship until it crashed. Of course we'll have to cut a few feet where you jumped, but that can be done very easily."

Jane's work was over and she wanted to get away and be alone for a time. Perhaps she'd even cry a little for the tension had been terrific. She slipped away and went to Mrs. Murphy's where she undressed, took a refreshing bath, and went to bed. It was early evening when she wakened and went down stairs.

Mrs. Murphy emerged from the kitchen.

"A gentleman called a time ago and left this letter for you. I think he was from the film company."

Jane looked at the letter. The return address was that of the leading hotel in the city. She opened the envelope and drew out a crisp check.

It was made payable to Jane Cameron in the amount of $250 and was signed by Roscoe James for the Mammoth Film Company.

Jane's eyes blurred. Why that check would more than equal all of the money she had spent learning how to fly, but she decided that she wouldn't want to do film stunts for a living.

There was a note with the check and Jane read it eagerly.

"Dear Miss Cameron: We are showing early shots of the film tonight at the hotel at eight. The scenes taken this morning will be included and we would like to have you present. The check is in appreciation of your fine work. Cordially, Roscoe James."

Jane's heart leaped. She wouldn't have to wait until the picture was completed and released. She could see the pictures of the airplane action that night.

"Mrs. Murphy," she called, "we're going to the hotel at eight o'clock.