Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team.
Lost in the Air
By ROY J. SNELL
1920
"Let's get a breath of fresh air." Bruce Manning yawned and stretched,then slid off his high stool at the bookkeeping desk. Barney Menterfollowed his example.
They had been together only a few days, these two, but already they werepals. This was not to be wondered at, for both had been dischargedrecently from army aviation service—Bruce in Canada and Barney in theUnited States. Each had served his country well. Now they were employedin the work of developing the wilds of Northern Canada near Hudson Bay.And there are no regions more romantic than this with all itshalf-gleaned history and its million secrets of wonder, wealth andbeauty.
As they stood in the doorway, gazing at the forest-lined river anddistant bluffs, hearing the clang of steel on steel, as construction workwent forward, catching the roar of cataracts in Nelson River, andtingling with the keen air of the northern summer, life seemed a newcreation, so different was it from the days of war.
"What's this?" Bruce was looking at a file containing bills-of-lading, amessenger had handed him.
"Car 564963, C. P. R., consigned to Major A. Bronson. Airplane andsupplies." He read it aloud and whistled. Barney jumped to snatchit from him.
"Stand back! Give me air," Bruce gasped. "An airplane at the present endof the Hudson Bay Railroad! What's doing now? What are they up to? Goingto quit construction here and use planes the rest of the way? Fancyfreighting wheat, fish, furs and whale blubber by airplanes!" Both ladslaughed at the idea.
"I don't wish his pilot any bad luck," said Barney. "But if he must dieby breaking his neck, or something, I hope he does it before he reachesthe Hudson Bay terminus. I'd like to take his place in that big air-bird.Say, wouldn't it be glorious!"
"You've stolen my thunder," replied Bruce, laughing. "I'm taking thatjob myself."
"Tell you what! I'll fight you for it. What weapons do you choose?
Rope-handed spiking hammers or pick-axes?"
"Let's go down and see if it's here. Like as not it's a machine neitherof us would risk his neck in; some old junk-pile the government's sold tothe chap for a hundred and fifty or so."
That this idea was not taken seriously by either was shown by thedouble-quick at which they went down the line, and over the half-laidtracks to where the accommodation train was standing.
Thorough inspection of car numbers convinced them that No. 564963 C.P.R.had not arrived.
"Oh, well! Perhaps to-morrow she'll be in. Then we'll see what we see,"yawned Bruce, as he