The Skyland post. [volume] (West Jefferson, N.C.) 193?-1988, 1936-09-10
STARTS ON PAGE 1

The pilot started to taxi shoreward
Garth again set about patching the
small leak.A sudden silence told that
the motor had ben stilled. Across
the hush came curt order:
s'Ho, Jack, fend off and snub her. y
Garth leisurely twisted around to
eye the incoming craft. She was a
beautiful medium-sized plane with q
cabin behind the semi enclosed cock
pit. Between her Roadway and the
river current, she was driving to-
wards the upstream side of the
wharf at speed that promised to
smash the pontoons.
Yet neither of the two helmeted
persons in the cockpit made move
to climb down in readiness to ward
off the shock. Nor did either work
the controls to veer the craft clear.
Both were hastily putting on head
nets and gloves to protect themselves
from the outbuzzing swarms OF
mosquitoes and bulldog flies. They
seemed to take for granted that the
worker on the wharf would rush to
give them service.
In the North ablebodied men are
supposed to wait upon themselves.
More, the pilots tone had been that
of matSer commanding an inferior.
Garth stayed motionless, waiting for
the crackup with cool curiosity.
At that the smaller person cried
out in a sharp, almost shrill voice:
"Quick, you gawpling DUMMY"
The fact that one of the pair was
a woman made a vast difference.
Garth caught the end of the mooring
line flung by the pilot, and snatched
up a long pikepole. It's outthrust
point met the tip of the nearer pom
toon.
Bent low, Garth put all of his
weight and strength into his angling
shove with the pole. The momentum
of the ingliding plane forced him
back one step after another. Then
his moccasins found holding grip
against the upturned edge of a
plank.
Instead of driving in against the
wharf at the blunt angle with which
it had approached, the head of the
plane began to swing off. With
another output of strength, Garth
swung it parallel with the upstream
side of the wharf.
Aided by a slight swerve in the
current, he was able to walk the
plane to the outer end of the wharf
before the nearer pontoon could hit
the flat logs. AS the aircraft glided
clear, he made the line fast to ring
bolt and returned to his canoe.
what the devil" snapped the pi-
lot. Come back, you fool. Take in
the Slack-moor us"
Garth swung his canoe into the
water and stepped aboard to test the
last patch. The airplane, having
drifted downstream to the end of the
line, swung around and lay nosing
the current. Neither the man or the
woman made a movement until
Garth drove his canoe ashore and
lifted it atop the stony bank.
AS he climbed to the front of the
old post store, above the base of the
wharf, he saw the pilot at last swing
down to haul on the line. Inside the
big log cabin he crossed to one of
the rear rooms and put light hand
on the forehead of the snoring man
in the nearest bunk.
''Turn out, Tobin Visitors"
The grizzle-beared station tender
reused up to blink and peer.
Visitors? You're not stringin' me,
Mr.. Garth?"
mo. Rover plane"
Tobin slipped on his moccasins and
hobbled out into the storeroom. The
pilot had moored his plane head and
tail to the lower side of the landing
stage. He was handing his woman
companion down from the cockpit.
Both had replaced their leather fly
ing helmets with hats and mosquito
nets.
They went in under the overhang-
ing wing to the screened door of the
cabin 1t opened to the outthrust of
portly man in city clothes. Assisted
by the pilot, he managed to get down
upon the wharf by means of steps
lowered from inside the cabin. After
hurriedly putting on a headnet and
gloves, he started inshore between
his two companions. He imped as if
slightly crippled. But the lameness
might have been due to cramp from
long sitting
Garth spoke to the supply tender:
"I'm only stray prospector, Tobin.
Understand"
"Aye, sir" grunted Tobin. Without
a word of greeting, he hobbled back
few steps as the pilot and his pas
sengers stepped in over the rough
threshold.
The portly man opened gold
mounted cigar case. The young wom-
an produced long amber-stemmed
cigarette holder. This was promptly
filled by the pilot, who paused only
to slap mosquito on his cleanse
en- cheek before striking match.
Out went Garth's hand in swift
clutch that caught the flaming match
in his calloused palm. The pilot, who
was as tall as Garth and heavier
built, turned to stare down at him
with cold anger.
"You insolent roughneck! Clear
out of here.
Garth smiled. Toben did the an
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