Air Stories, August, 1927
Gales and McGill, free lances of the air, stamp merrily on a Chinese dragon’s tail—and backfire to the Siam Coast!
F you’d been on the coast that year, automatic pistols and resulting in a number of anywhere between Shanghai and the casualties for the other side.
I Malay States, you’d have heard lurid, Thereafter they were suspected of unsavory tales anent two soldiers of fortune—
various outrages ranging from theft to
Gales and McGill, one-time lieutenants in the kidnaping and on up to rank, raw murder. On
American air service. It began when these two the Yangtse two attempts were made to blow
bird-men, flying a battered hydroairplane, up the plane, and one night in a black back-aided in manipulating the escape of a native
alley of Chinkiang McGill, carrying more
prince from a vile dungeon in the liquor under his belt than was good for any neighborhood of Canton. They did it for a
man—especially in Chinkiang—got a flung
price, of course, and it was most unfortunate knife in the ribs and almost passed out of the that during the rescue certain well-laid plans picture.
went to pot, calling for the immediate use of Then on a hot, sultry day, brassy with
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2
the glare of the equatorial sun, the populace of
“Ten to one they’ll pitch us in jail and
Bangkok, that maudlin, wicked, colorful city, stick the old boat in a museum. Bill, this
looked up to see a silver-winged monster country is getting too damned hot for us and I droning down out of the blue. A yellow-robed
don’t mean the climate either.”
monk in a dug-out canoe, bent on collecting
“Cheer up, Mike!” Gales chuckled. “I
alms from the river craft, looked once and
know you miss your liquor, but cheer up.
then headed for shore, where he took up a
We’ll anchor here and I’ll get a native to row watchful position under a sacred Bo-tree. me ashore.”
Sampans, house-boats and canoes scattered
As a matter of fact, it was some little
from the face of the Menam River and drove
time before Gales managed to convince
to hug the protection of the wharves and the
Bangkok’s port dignitaries that he had no
wooded banks.
intentions of robbing the crown jewels,
The plane circled the city, its wings
murdering the King of Siam, or plundering
flashing in the sunlight, its motor roaring even Wat Phra Keo, the Temple of the Emerald
above the din and clamor of the most turbulent Buddha.
of Eastern cities. Then it was over the river But he did land, a long, rangy, bronzed
again, and suddenly it slanted. The motor young man, with twinkling blue eyes, a slow, died. Like a graceful bird, the plane engaging smile, and a devil-may-care tilt to descended. Its pontoons kissed the water, his lean, hard jaw. Word that he had landed skimmed along free for an instant, then traveled rapidly, from mouth to mouth, from touched again and threw aside ribbons of shop to shop, all the way from the European milky foam. It missed hitting a sampan by no
section downtown, through the reeking
more than a foot, passed perilously between
brothels and opium joints of the Sampaeng, on two anchored schooners, and glided to a stop
northward to the boulevards of the nobility.
in the lee of a dumpy river packet.
The houseboat-cluttered canals buzzed with
Bill Gales pulled off his goggles and
wonderment at the arrival of the winged
turned to grin his youthful dare-devil grin at monster, and many white men along New
his older partner.
Road shook their heads dourly and suspected
“Well, Mike, pretty nifty, that landing,
the worst. For the flyers of fortune—Gales
eh?”
and McGill—had a past crimsoned by the
“Couldn’t have done better myself, broad brush of gossip and ill-founded rumor.
Bill. Got a butt?”
Gales, roving the city aimlessly,
“Sure.” Gales passed back a packet of
wandered presently into a gaming house in the cigarettes and chuckled. “That guy in the raw maw of the Sampaeng. He was not there sampan we almost hit has made the shore and
five minutes when a fat, heavy-lidded Chinese is still running. Well, here we are in Bangkok, approached him and in a very direct manner
just about out of gas.”
asked him how much he would charge to drop
“And not enough dough to get drunk
a bomb on a certain gaming house at the other on,” supplemented McGill. “What a tough end of the district.
break!”
Gales laughed. His eyes twinkled
“Never mind, Mike. We’ll get some
merrily. He said:
somehow. We’ve been recognized by this
“You’ve been misinformed, my friend.
time, and if it comes to the worst, these We don’t go in for that sort of stuff. Sorry!”
officials here will supply us with gas just to He wandered out of the dive, weaved
get rid of us.”
his way through the crooked, evil streets, and
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3
before dusk settled he had turned down three
blowing smoke through his nostrils. “Well
similar offers. When he returned to the shove off at dawn. He pays in advance and we waterfront he found McGill pacing up and
load our tanks this evening.”
down a rickety wharf in sight of the plane.
At precisely five o’clock the slim,
“No luck, Mike,” he greeted. “It seems
well-dressed stranger arrived at the wharf. He all these birds go in for nothing short of was in his forties, perhaps; a sallow, bony murder.”
man, with large, pale eyes and a bad set of
McGill, who was short and spare and
nerves.
nervously alert, with keen little eyes, stopped
“So you are Mr. Gales?” he smiled
his pacing and jammed his hands to his hips.
wanly at the younger of the two partners.
“Bill,” he said, “you should have hung
“Yes, I’m Gales. We’ll be very glad to
around, dammit. About an hour after you left a fly you.”
stranger came down to the wharf here and
“Call me—well, Smith. What does it
motioned me to come ashore. Maybe we’ve
matter?”
got a job,”
“Good as any,” chuckled Gales lightly.
Gales snapped a match to a cigarette
“All right, Mr. Smith. Tomorrow at
and clipped:
daybreak. Of course, the payment in advance,
“Shoot,
my
boy!”
you know.”
“Sure. A white man, Bill, tall and
“To be sure,” agreed Smith, and turned
skinny and not so healthy-looking, what I away to cough brokenly. “If you’ll come to mean. But he must have dough all right. my hotel I shall be glad to settle the matter.”
Looks and speaks that way.”
He sighed. “And we must get away as soon as
“Mike, get to the point!�
��
possible. It is very, very urgent, I assure you.
“Gimme time. Here’s the idea. We’re
Someone . . . Well, to my hotel then,” he
to take him in our bus and head for the Gulf of ended.
Siam and look for a ship called the Bangkok Belle, which is bound for Saigon. All right.
GALES and McGill worked most of the night
We’re to land on the water near the ship and
on their plane. They loaded the gasoline tanks make signs that we want her to pick up our
to capacity, put in fresh motor oil, and time passenger. We can say he’s sick or and again drew a wondering crowd when they something.”
roared and tested their engine. When they both
“What
else?”
agreed that the motor was in perfect shape,
“That’s all, so far as details are McGill perched on the edge of the forward concerned. He won’t tell any more. Well, cockpit and rubbed his grimy face with a what the hell? Who cares? There’s a thousand
grimy hand.
dollars in it. With that money we can stock up
“Bill,” he said. “I think I’ll just drop
on provisions and fuel later on and run arms
ashore for a little while and tuck a few drinks from Singapore to the insurgent tribes in the away.”
Celebes.”
“Go to it, partner, but don’t get lost,”
“Where is this angel?” asked Gales,
was the hearty rejoinder.
interested.
So McGill set out to tuck away a few
“Be here at five o’clock. Told him to. I
drinks. How many drinks he did tuck away
said everything would be O. K. with me, but
remains matter for conjecture, but he returned I’d have to speak to you, too.”
to the wharf well after midnight singing a
“O. K. by me,” chuckled Gales, bawdy song and steering a wobbly course. He
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4
refused the offer of a sampan, fell overboard altitude. Soon the city of domes and spires and and decided to swim out to the plane. Gales
dank canals was below and behind. Ahead of
hauled him out of the river, piled him into the him stretched the jungle and the Menam River
rear cockpit and left him to sleep it off. At winding toward the Gulf of Siam. The wind
daybreak McGill was perfectly sober and hummed by his ears, twanged and rattled in primed for action.
the struts. Smith had said that they should
“I feel like a new man,” he explained,
sight the Bangkok Belle in the vicinity of chafing his hands gingerly. “I needed that.
Cambodia Point. That would be four hundred-
Honest, Bill, you can get some good liquor in odd miles from Bangkok, and about five hours
this here burg.”
of flying.
“Ready for anything, eh, Mike?”
When Gales’ altimeter registered
grinned Gales.
three-thousand feet he rattled the controls and
“Ready for anything, Bill!”
saw McGill lean forward to take over the
Both partners were in fine spirits when
flying. Then he removed his hands from the
the man called Smith joined them. Gales was
joy-stick and his feet from the rudder bar and enthusiastic, eager to be off, and his boyish, doubled in the cockpit to light a cigarette.
reckless grin was contagious. McGill was
McGill took the boat up another
alert, crawling around the plane, giving a final thousand feet and for the sake of variety
and thorough inspection. Then Smith was volplaned, banked sharply and then zoomed helped into one of Gales’ spare flying outfits up to six thousand feet, when he shoved the
and stowed in the front cockpit which he was
control stick forward almost to the instrument to share with McGill.
board and leveled the plane’s flight. He
It is pretty safe to say that no one in
looked around at Gales and grinned. Gales
Bangkok expected them to leave so suddenly.
blew smoke through his nostrils and grinned
Hence there was not much of a crowd to
back. Smith was white-faced and silent.
witness their departure. The roar of the engine Neither of the birdmen had pressed
did draw a few, however, and more came
Smith for other details than he had freely
running down to the wharves.
given. In fact, they had not even speculated
Hooded and goggled, Gales sat in the
between themselves as to the object of the
after cockpit at the controls, a duplicate set of stranger’s mission. They were well used to
which was likewise in the front cockpit. He
mysteries. They were being paid to fly Smith
smiled to himself as his eyes roamed over the over the Gulf of Siam, locate the Bangkok instrument board and the engine thundered.
Belle, and get him on board. Right there their He saw McGill turn and arch inquisitive services were to end.
eyebrows, then pull on his goggles. Gales
It looked easy. Nothing to it. Smith
grinned back and nodded.
certainly wanted to get aboard the ship pretty He was happy, eager, tingling all over.
badly, to pay their price. Well, that was his The thrill of the game never deserted him. He business, and it was their’s to fly him there.
was a natural flyer, and fear in the air was
After that—Singapore, and a fling at gun-
something he did not know. As his plane
smuggling.
began to slide over the surface of the water, McGill shook the controls and Gales
gathering speed, he turned his head to watch
took over the flying, dropping to three
the city of Bangkok sweep by. He waved
thousand feet and passing over a freighter that joyously to the watchers on the shore.
was plowing sluggishly through the waters of
Then he was in the air, driving for
the broad Gulf. Directly ahead of him was the
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5
newly risen sun. He dropped lower, way down
the flying, feeling not so almighty comfortable to five hundred feet, on down to three hundred with a dead man beside him.
and still lower, until he was fairly skimming Gales looked at the photograph again,
along the wave crests.
wondering what Smith’s motive had been in
McGill turned and shook his head and
thrusting the picture into McGill’s hand. This pointed his finger upward. Gales grinned his
was something they had not bargained for. Yet reckless grin, banked and zoomed. He drove
Gales was well used to meeting the
up toward the clouds—up—up—and still up
unexpected. You get that way after you’ve
to ten and then twelve thousand feet and flown for ten years. He leaned forward and beyond. Then he volplaned to five thousand
tapped his partner on the head. McGill twisted feet and drove on at an even keel, chuckling to around and throttled down to listen.
himself.
“Keep heading for Cambodia Point,” Gales
It was a few minutes later that he snouted. “See if we can pick up the Bangkok noticed Smith rising in the forward cockpit.
Belle. I’ve got an idea.”
He saw McGill yank him back into the seat,
McGill, who had become used to
and then he saw Smith writhing in what relying on Gales’ ideas, nodded and climbed appeared to be nothing less than agony. another thousand feet. They we
re heading McGill had twisted and after throwing a southeast down the coast of Cambodia. Point puzzled glance at Gales, put an arm about
Samit was on their left and Koh Rong lay
Smith and shouted something near his ear.
ahead. Below them creamed the waters of the
Then suddenly Smith was quiet.
Gulf, and a barkentine was beating down the
A moment later McGill, his face wind.
twisted in a grimace, turned and tried to say Clouds were gathering in the east and
something to Gales. Gales throttled down and
trooping across the face of the sun and huge
leaned forward, cocking an ear.
rollers were breaking on the jungle shore far
“Gripes, Bill,” McGill was yelling, below. Off Phu Quog Island Gales, who was
“he’s dead!”
at the controls, sighting a steamer, bore down Gales was abruptly serious. He was
and shot close by with his binoculars pressed losing altitude and soared up to eight thousand to his eyes. He could see an officer on the
feet before he throttled down and again leaned bridge wave. It was not the Bangkok Belle, forward.
however, and Gales zoomed and soon was
“Yeah!” shouted McGill. “Guess his
tearing along at eight thousand feet.
heart was bum, Bill. Just before he passed out McGill turned and swung a suggestive
. . . shoved this in my hand.”
arm toward the dull clouds that were rolling
Gales reached out and received a small
out of the east. Gales nodded. The sun was
square of cardboard about the size of a poker obscured and the waters below were being
card. One look revealed that it was the piled high. The plane was driving into strong photograph of a young woman—a dark-head winds, high over Rach Gia Bay. Twice
haired, dark-eyed, beautiful young woman.
Flyers of Fortune by Frederick Lewis Nebel Page 1