Chapter VIII: The Missing Aviators

Slim Tyler smothered the bitterness at his heart as well as he could and continued his reading of the letter.

Cameron Flood, Jr., the lawyer went on to explain, had inherited a claim for a large amount against the Mt. Sunwa Lumber Company and a certain Nathaniel Shaley, who seemed to have been the leading figure in the concern.

There had been some grave irregularity and probably actual crime attending the winding up of the company, the writer stated. In fact, Cameron Flood, Senior, had been about to take up the cudgels in a contest that would undoubtedly have had sensational features when death put an end to his activities.

"All very interesting, but not much use to me, now that I won't be able to get in touch with the younger Flood for many months to come," sighed Slim. "Talk about getting the hot end of the poker! I've got nothing else but."

Depression was a frequent guest of Slim Tyler in the days that followed. From the papers he learned that two scientists, one of them Flood, had joined the expedition in upper Canada.

There the _Flying Cloud_ had laid up for a couple of days for refueling and supplies.

Then came the news that Dave Boyd and his party had left Canada and embarked on the last and most perilous lap of the journey to the uncharted wastes of Greenland.

Up to that time good weather had been the rule. But now the public, eagerly following the course of the flight by means of the newspapers and radio, learned that the plane was meeting with inclement flying conditions.

Snow and hail and terrible winds prevailed in the regions of the air through which the _Flying Cloud_ was painfully forcing its way.

Slim Tyler and Jerry Marbury devouring every scrap of information they could get, agonized together over the possible fate of the flyers.

"Under such weather conditions it's wonderful that the plane could have stayed in the air so long," observed Jerry.

"No one but Dave Boyd could have managed it," said Slim loyally.

Jerry shook his head dubiously.

"Even Dave Boyd can't keep aloft much longer with such odds against him. A forced landing among the ice-coated mountains of Greenland--" he did not finish the sentence, but in his eyes was the premonition of disaster.

A day later a screaming headline in the press informed the public that what it had been dreading had probably occurred.

No word had been received from the Boyd plane for eighteen hours!

This fact, coupled with the increased severity of the weather conditions in the region where the plane had last been heard of, gave rise to the most dire prophecies. In all probability, it was generally thought, the plane had been forced down among the mountain gorges of the desolate land, in which event the situation of the members of the expedition was, to say the least, of the utmost gravity.

With the paper in his hand that gave the disheartening report, Slim Tyler dashed into Jerry's room.

"Look here, old boy!" he exclaimed. "This is rotten news."

"Couldn't be much worse," agreed Jerry gloomily.

He also had been studying the paper.

"Of course the papers may be all wrong," went on Slim, with a desperate effort at optimism. "Because no news has come from the _Flying Cloud_ for many hours, they've jumped at conclusions. It may be only that something has gone wrong with the radio."

Jerry looked at his chum curiously.

"I guess you should have read on a little farther, Slim. It says here that two trappers report that they saw a giant plane flying over Greenland, that she seemed to be in distress and was trying to make a landing among the mountains. Didn't you see that?"

Slim shook his head.

"It isn't in my paper. Let me see yours."

The story of the Greenland trappers added to the anxiety that had taken possession of Slim Tyler as to the fate of the man whom he cared for most in all the world.

He put down the paper and looked at Jerry.

"When Dave Boyd took me up," he said, "I was nothing but a poor homeless kid, battered about from pillar to post, with hardly a cent to my name and no future to boast about. Dave Boyd gave me a chance to make something of myself."

"You've more than justified the faith he put in you," returned Jerry.

"That doesn't change the fact that I owe everything to him," Slim persisted. "I tell you, Jerry, if we don't get good news of the plane within the next few days, I'm going after him."

Jerry grinned and thrust out his hand.

"Take me with you, kid?"

"You bet," replied Slim, and they shook hands on it.

Days passed with no news whatever of Dave Boyd and his expedition. The worst was feared and there was much talk about sending out searching planes for the missing flyers.

Then Slim Tyler leaped to the front. He came out boldly with the announcement that he and Jerry Marbury were anxious to go in search of the _Flying Cloud_ and its occupants, and asked for a plane and funds to finance the relief expedition.

The response was immediate, and it astonished Slim by its enthusiasm. Nothing could demonstrate better the position Dave Boyd held in the hearts of his countrymen than the promptness with which funds began to pour in from all parts of the nation.

Money was collected by newspapers in the great cities. A plane of the newest type and possessing all the latest mechanical improvements was presented to Slim by one of the largest plane manufacturers in the country.

Slim Tyler himself flew the plane from the Mid-Western manufacturing town to North Elmwood.

He landed amid a heavy downpour of rain, which, however, did not deter a large crowd from assembling to greet him. They pressed close about the beautiful plane and the daring pilot who was about to undertake such a perilous adventure.

Jerry Marbury shoved his way through to Slim's side. His eyes were shining.

"She's a peach, boy! What are we going to name her?"

"The _Hope_," said Slim.

He regarded Jerry steadily and the two young men gripped hands.

"We've got a new recruit," stated Jerry, as, after the plane had been put in its hangar, they started across the field together. "He wants to go on the relief flight with us. I like him and I think you will, too. Suppose you take a squint at him."

"Sure," agreed Slim. "Where is he?"

"Over at Leslie's boarding house. He has taken a room there. He says whether he goes with us or not, he's bound to see the start of the expedition. He's a nice chap, and I think he may make himself useful to us."

At the door of the boarding house they ran into Dick Mylert, the young man in question, who was just coming out.

"Hello!" the latter exclaimed, staring. "Slim Tyler, isn't it? Just the man I want to see."

"Ditto," said Slim smilingly.

"Two souls with but a single thought," grinned Mylert cheerfully. "We ought to get along famously together. Come right in," and he led the way into the sitting room.

"Not beautiful," he said, with a glance around the plainly furnished room, "but clean and comfortable. The hotel was crowded and I had to put up here. Anyway, the landlady serves real butter with meals."

"That's a help," remarked Slim.

"You tell 'em. Now to get down to brass tacks. Do I get a chance to go along with you and Mr. Marbury here on your relief expedition to Greenland?"

"Shouldn't wonder," returned Slim, who had taken an immediate liking to the breezy young fellow. "If you'll just tell me----"

"Sure. You want to know my qualifications for the job. To start with, I'm a newspaper reporter on--" He named the great New York paper that had been chiefly instrumental in raising the funds for the expedition. "I'm white, unmarried, twenty-eight, and have never been convicted of a crime, although traffic cops have sometimes spoken harshly to me."

Following this unconventional self-introduction, Mylert became a bit more serious and gave Slim and Jerry a brief but comprehensive description of his activities up to date. The more he talked, the more Slim liked him.

It appeared that he had had a most varied experience. He had traveled over a great part of the world, sometimes as a sailor before the mast, at others as assistant navigator; had been with a scientific expedition as a geographer; and was conversant with a number of languages. He had even tried flying for a while before settling on a newspaper career.

"So you see I'm qualified in more ways than one to be of use to you on your expedition," the young man remarked. "By the way, I have papers here to prove my statements--if you need any other proof than my open and ingenuous countenance," he ended with a grin.

As a matter of form, Slim looked over the credentials that Mylert handed him. Then he turned them over to Jerry.

"Your open and ingenuous countenance is a good reference," laughed Slim. "But these others seem to be all right, and as far as I am concerned clinch the matter. What do you say, Jerry?"

"It's all right with me," said Jerry heartily. "If it's O.K. with you, Slim, Mr. Mylert will be the third member of the party without any further argument."

"O.K. with me," assented Slim.

The three young men shook hands gravely. Dick Mylert beamed gratification.

"I've always had a terrific admiration for Dave Boyd," he confessed. "When you boys started plans for this relief expedition I had a yearning to go that I couldn't resist. Glad you fellows like me, for I've certainly taken a shine to you."

This important detail settled, preparations for the flight went on with great rapidity. The young aviators kept hoping that every day would bring them news of Boyd's safety and make their trip unnecessary.

But nothing of the kind occurred. Not a signal came from the Arctic wastes to tell that the intrepid adventurers lived.

Slim and Jerry worked day and night with a force of helpers, and in an incredibly short space of time the _Hope_ was ready for her flight.

"To-morrow," said Slim, two nights later, "we make our start."

"The weather prophecies from Washington are good," observed Jerry. "That doesn't hurt any."

"It isn't the weather here that bothers me much," replied Slim. "It's what we may run into farther north."

The next day justified the optimistic weather prophecies. The sky was a uniform bright blue. There was no suggestion of fog or threatened storm.

The three members of the relief expedition were in a mood of hope to match the name of the plane. They were eager to be off, and grudged the time that was taken up by the persistent reporters and photographers, all anxious to get stories and pictures for their papers.

There was a confused sound of altercation on the edge of the crowd. Slim Tyler heard a familiar voice.

"I toldt you I got somedings for him alretty. Gif me der room to get dere vonst."

Slim chuckled and faced about as Carl Stummel shoved his way through the crowd.

"Blenty hot togs, alretty," panted Carl, as he handed Slim a large paper bundle. "Cooked shoost der vay you like dem, mit blenty oof mustard. Vere you're going you might maybe haf a hardt dime getting sooch goot vuns, yes?"

"There aren't such good ones anywhere," declared Slim, as he accepted the gift. "Your mustard is hot enough to keep us warm even in Greenland."

"If dey last dot long, den I am a bum cook, alretty," replied Carl. "I betcher dey vill be et before dis night koomt. Goot luck, Shlim! Und bring back dot Dave Boydt."