"What about yourself?" demanded the chief stewardess.

"I'll get along all right," said Slim. "You get out of the cabin if I signal for a jump."

The radio operator ran out with the final weather report and the tractor rolled the big doors away. The biplane quivered as the full strength of the wind whistled through the hangar. Then the ship rolled ahead, flame spitting from the three long exhausts. The runways had been swept clear of snow by the wind and Slim Bollei opened the throttle. In no time at all they were in the air, turning north for the 160-mile flight to Lytton.

With a quartering wind from the Rockies, the plane pitched badly and Miss Comstock and Jane fastened their safety belts. Even then they were thrown around sharply.

The cabin warmed only slightly, for the older ships had been poorly insulated. Jane beat her hand together to keep the circulation flowing.

The air speed indicator hovered around the 90 mile an hour mark. At that rate it would take them nearly two hours to make the trip. The ground disappeared in the drifting haze of snow and Jane knew the pilot was flying blind. She was glad that Slim was rated one of the best flyers on the system, for he would have need of every ounce of the skill in his capable hands.

For an hour they bored through the storm. Then the middle motor started to sputter and the light flashed three times. They unfastened their safety belts and stood in the aisle.

"I'm going ahead to see what's wrong," said Miss Comstock.

She hurried forward and Jane listened intently to the uneven firing of the motor.

When Miss Comstock returned Jane could see that the chief stewardess was worried.

"Slim says the motor seems to be freezing up. It's only a question of time before it will quit altogether."

"Does that mean we'll have to try for a landing?" asked Jane.

"He thinks he can keep going on the wing motors. He's going to try but he said to be ready to jump if one of them stops."

Standing in the aisle of the cold cabin, with the wind rocking the plane and the snow hiding the ground, Jane felt a chilling of her heart that was caused by something beside the sub-zero winter. The serum they carried was so desperately needed in the isolated town. Lives of children depended on the success of their trip. They must win through; the wing motors must continue their rhythmic beating.

Five minutes later the center motor quit firing altogether and the wing engines growled as the added burden came upon them. The wind seemed to have slackened slightly, but the mantle of snow still enfolded them in its fleecy whiteness.

The minutes crept on endlessly. They must be nearing the village if the pilot's calculations were correct and the wind had not drifted them too far off their course.

Jane went to one of the windows and peered down. There was only the snow and the wind swirling it below them. Then they started down, feeling their way through the blizzard.

It was tricky work, a task that required the hand of a master pilot, for at any moment they might smash down out of the sky in a crash landing.

With nerves taut, the stewardesses watched the needle of the altimeter.

The light flashed three times. It was the warning of trouble ahead.

The plane lurched upward and a resounding shock rocked the big craft.

Jane caught a glimpse of something black and rugged underneath the left wing. Miss Comstock cried out in alarm.

"The landing gear's smashed," she shouted.

"We must have struck a rock ridge," replied Jane.

They zoomed upward and the light flashed four times. That was the signal to jump. Jane looked at Miss Comstock. The chief stewardess shook her head.

"I'm not jumping," she cried.

"Neither am I," replied Jane, hurrying ahead to the pilot's c.o.c.kpit.

Slim Bollei was clinging to his controls.

"Jump," he yelled. "We've washed out the landing gear."

"We're not jumping," Jane told him firmly. "If the storm will only clear you may be able to skid in for a landing on the snow."

"That's what I'm hoping for, but I can't stay up here forever."

Jane remained in the forward c.o.c.kpit while the pilot sought a break in the storm which would enable him to get his bearings and land. For fifteen minutes they cruised in great circles.

"The storm's breaking away," cried Jane.

Slim nodded hopefully. It did seem as though the snow was thinning.

For another fifteen minutes the motors droned steadily and at the end of that time, the snow lessened to a fine cloud. Objects on the ground came into view. "There's a village!" cried Jane, pointing to the right.

Slim Bollei swung the tri-motor in a gentle circle, for he lacked the power for steep climbs and banks. As the plane roared over the s...o...b..und town, men appeared, waving their arms frantically.

"I guess that's the place," grinned Slim. "It's the only town within thirty miles. Now we've got to find a place where we can do a little skiing."

Beyond the village he found a field nearly half a mile long. It was sheltered in a valley with what wind still remained sweeping the length of the field.

"Get back in the cabin and hang on," shouted the pilot. "I'm going to cut the motors and see what kind of a s...o...b..rd this is."

"We're starting down," Jane told Miss Comstock when she returned to the cabin.

The plane tilted forward and the motors eased down to a whisper. The snow-covered ground leaped toward them, then seemed to pause in its mad rush as the biplane leveled out there was a sharp b.u.mp, the sound of tearing wood and fabric, and a series of jolting shocks before the tri-motor came to rest with its nose in a deep drift.

Slim Bollei staggered back into the cabin, a deep gash over his right eye.

"Get the serum out of here. The gas tanks have given way and the fuel may explode any second."

Jane clutched the package of precious serum and threw open the cabin door. Miss Comstock came after her, tugging the hamper loaded with medical supplies while Slim carried the hamper of food. The snow was eighteen inches deep, and they floundered through it, gasping for breath. They stopped a hundred yards away from the big plane and Slim eyed it ruefully.

"That's a good job for a salvage crew," he said, "but I guess the line won't kick a whole lot. That ship paid for itself many a time."

Strangely enough, even with the fuel flowing out of the split gas tanks, the big craft did not take fire and the flyer and the stewardesses turned to greet the villagers, who were hurrying to meet them.

Chapter Twenty-four

Dangerous Pa.s.sengers

Miss Comstock and Jane remained in the village two days, ministering to the needs of the stricken children and playing first a.s.sistant to the over-worked village doctor. Then another Federated Airways plane, one of the old tri-motors, dropped down on them and whisked them back to Cheyenne. From the governor came a personal note of appreciation for what they had done.

After that the winter tapered off. The storms were less severe and the flying schedules were maintained, almost without interruption. Jane and her companions found their routine duties pleasant, for no two days were alike. The weather varied, pa.s.sengers changed and there was always the element of the unexpectd injecting itself into their work.