The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1942-09-11
CHAPTER XII

Curt and DR.. Toenjes pushed
through the circle. Again Ryden
registered relief as he gave up the
spotlight.
eve don't wish to appear to unvel-
COON you," Toenjes said, his voice
controlled. Again Curt was amazed
at the rapid change, amazed that
the Dutchman's anger-or whatever
it was he'd seen in his face-had
vanished. "Zey mean to gay We
are not as a coomairzhal field
equipped. You had re trouble With
your blane?"
"Yeh, trouble" The lieutenant
also had trouble to regain his own
equanimity. In fact, he made little
effort to do so, merely transferring
his angry gaze from Ryden to Toen-
jes. "Clogged fuel line. Headed
for Puerto Soledad but the matter of
safety forced me down here"
II am glad for you to land zafe.
Vat can We do for your"
But the army mans gaze met
Curtis. Curt was grinning from ear
to ear as he stepped into the
fray.
Names Curtis. Chief Engineer
for the Compania Agricola Tropical,
who have this valley. This is DR..
Toenjes, of Amsterdam, an agricul-
tural authority in charge of farms"
"T'm Lieutenant Trainor. My
men," nodding in direction of each
in turn, "Blanding, Newman, Fos-
ter" All three were engaged making
space about the plane. "Sorry if
we inconvenience you, but we'll
have to make some repairs"
ttOf course"
Things organized, ladders brought
from the nearby hangers, the two
men Newman and Foster stripped to
their waists and got busy disman-
ting the fuel line of the engine. It
was not simple task but they knew
their job.
Toenjes took considerable inter-
est, conversing in low tones with
Ryden. This left Curt by himself
for moment, and he singled out
the second lieutenant.
"Blanding? Curtis"
They grinned and shook hands.
Blanding spat and said, American?
What you doing in this blooming
league of nations?"
s'Work here. What's the matter?
No cooperation from our field
force?"
Cooperation? Say, guy'd think
it was crime to set down a Grip
pied plane. Private field, private
field he mimicked. "What the
hell? BY the way" his tone changed,
became curious, what you doing
with those old crates? Those old
time Junkers transports.
He wore a smile that was half
amusement, half disgust, as he nod
ded toward the two c. A. T. planes.
He spat again.
"Junkers?" said Curt. "That what
they are? I'm no airman, I didn't
know. Only been on the job here
ten days, or so, myself"
They watched for some minutes
the work on the engine. The fuel
line was disconnected, blown out,
reconnected. The engine was test
ed, but still it sputtered.
Lieutenant Trainor, from kibitz-
ing position above, jumped to the
ground. He wore frown.
ssWe were scheduled to touch
Puerto Soledad this afternoon and
proceed onward at once. If we
can catch up with the other planes
quickly, they'll wait for us. But
supposing we can't make repairs
tonight, any way of putting us up?"
ct should think So" answered
Curt. Trouble serious, them"
'sNot serious, but it goes deeper
than I thought. l see you have 9TH
er hangers here" The lieutenant
nodded toward the far end of the
field. "Could we put the machine
under cover for the night?"
Sorry" Curt replied. "They were
built as hangers, all right, but
they're used for storage purposes
now. They're full up with materials
and supplies. You couldn't even get
the nose of your ship inside"
Curt hadn't yet gone through the
buildings, but he recalled the ex-
traordinary stock Of pipe and fit
tings, and other materials listed in
the inventory Senior Montaya had
sent him.
Attention called to the end of the
field, they saw movement there.
Lieutenant Trainor produced pair
of field glasses, adjusted them, stud
led what he saw. Then he shrugged
and Curt automatically reached for
the lowered binoculars.
Pointing them at the bodega, Curt
saw a small crew of men with Lam
nestock in charge. They'd hand
worked a flatcar from outside the
field fence into position alongside
the loading platform.
A big door of the hangar was
raised and from the interior the