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Page 13 text:
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LE RACCINTEUII Sandy Craig's Good Deed By B. Blake NE evening at Bluebottle Cove. as the sun was sinking behind the purple hills of the Rockies, Sandy Craig appeared from a boathouse at the waters edge. ln this house Sandy had been lab- ouring for several hours on the hull of a sleek black and silver outboard racer. This boat was the prize possession of Clipper Craig. Sandys father. Richard Craig, nicknamed Clipper because of his ability to clip off time from world records, was a prominent figure in the life of the small resort of Bluebottle. Two years before Clipper had met with a serious airplane crash while on his way to a regatta at Long Beach, California. After spend- ing' three months in the hospital. he had been advised to retire to a small town, and had chosen Bluebottle. in which he now resided. On arriving at Bluebottle, he at once had his special boat sent up in parts, and. regaining his health, he, with the aid of Robert, better known as Sandy, had re-assembled the boat. :Xt the Annual Regatta in which liluebottle. Lakeside, Sunny Harbour, Portland and Sailfish Cove participated, Clipper had made an immediate enemy of Ralph Todd, the son of a wealthy banker of Lakeside. by taking away Ralplrs record by two and one-half minutes on the straight-away course of five miles. At the same time he also gained the firm friendship of Don Bently, an orphan whom he befriended while waiting for the race in which he was entered. Don. a brown-haired, blue-eyed boy of fifteen, the same age as Sandy, was standing at the front of a crowd of race-goers. watching the boats warm up, when the crowd surged forward. shoving him off the pier into the path of a speed boat. Clipper. seeing the danger, shouted to 'the lad to swim for it. Sandy took the situation in at a glance. dove overboard, and swimming to the struggling boy. jerked him aside just as the boat whizzed by like a rocket. Finding, on enquiry, that the lad had no parents, Clipper took him to their cabin. Clipper then returned to the lakeside and climbed into his craft just in time to warm up the engine. Bang! The race is on, and Sandy watches till they round the point. and then retires to look after Don. Giving him a suit of clothes and a piping hot meal tended to cement more firmly a friendship that was already as strong as steel. Clipper came home victorious and left Sandy to house the boat and overhaul it. Don watched this with interest, and after several days knew much about motors. The last day of the Regatta was only twenty-four hours away. Sandy stood in the kitchen preparing 14 breakfast. Don and Clipper had gone for a walk up the bench. Suddenly the window broke and a rock landed at Sandy's feet. Looking down, he saw a note tied to the stone. Picking it up, he read, XVe, the holders of Donald Bently and Clipper Craig. demand that you forfeit the race to-morrow, which, if won by you, would take the title from a certain party. lf you agree leave a note in a hollow tree just off the junction of Highways No. 20 and 12 by seven o'clock to-nightfl This was signed The Holders. Sandy busied himself for about an hour wrap- ping various things. .-Xt noon he sneaked out un- seen and was soon at the appointed place. He worked feverishly for half an hour, climbing trees, rigging wires, etc. Soon he surveyed his work and smiled in satisfaction. Placing a paper in the tree, he left for home. At six-thirty a man slunk away from a cabin and raced to a tree at the junction of Highways 20 and 12. He peered cautiously about and proceeded to walk stealthily to a tree. Sud- denly he tripped on a wire, a net descended on him, and Sandy pounced from the bushes on the figure. .Xfter severe questioning the fellow broke down and confessed that Don and the Clipper were being held by some men in a fish shanty on a deserted part of the shore near Sunny Harbour. Sandy left the man bound and gagged and ran to the boathouse some two miles distant. He im- mediately launched the craft, warmed up the engine and was off up the lake to the shanty. About half a mile away he cut his motor, went ashore and crept up on the hut. By the light of a candle in the hut, he could see three men at a table, and in one corner Don and Clipper lay bound and gagged. l'ulling two automatics from his pockets, he quietly pushed the door open and calmly ordered the men to raise their hands. Swiftly but cautiously he backed to Don, stooped down, and, cutting his bonds. left him to free Clipper. Don and Clipper, being free, quickly bound and gagged the men who only a little while before had had them in their power. Extinguishing the candle, the trio left and headed for the boat. VVhen they reached their cabin at Bluebottle, it was almost three o'clock in the morning. Clipper telephoned the Sheriff, giving him the location of the shanty where the three pris- oners were and they all retired and slept until eight in the morning, when they arose, breakfasted, and went to overhaul the boat before the Final race. fContinued on Page 591
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Page 14 text:
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,1 LE IIACUNTEUB Through Mail By Dave Hughes HRDUGH the skies, over the snow-blanketed ground outside Fort Providence, roared the sleek monoplane of Canadian Airways, piloted by young Dick Ilrownly. The plane banked in a wide arc, and with motor ticking over gently, came down out of the air and settled her wide skis on the sur- face of the hard-packed runway. Opening the door of the plane, the young pilot hopped out, dragging two mail sacks behind him. He was met by an officer of the R.C.M.P. and an old man with white beard and wearing a heavy mackinac. Hello, Brownly, I see you have the mail here on time. Old Man Pete here was beginning to wonder if you had forgotten to bring it or if you had re- sorted to a dog team and were late, just as so many of these dog team mail carriers are, said the Mountie with a wink and a nod of his head toward Qld Man Pete. You know denged well, said Old Man Pete in reply to the remark of the officer, that I ain't never been late with my dog team here, and never will be. But if the gov'ment ever decides to put these consarned airyplanes on my route people up Fort NVrigley 'll be a-wonderin' if people in the rest of the world heve stopped writin' letters. Don't let it bother you, Pete, replied Dick, casting a loving gaze on the neat little plane he loved so well. It looks as though you'll be picking the mail up from me here at Fort Providence for a few more years yet. But perhaps Canadian Air- ways may be given the contract yet to carry mail to Fort Wrigley. Not if I have anythin' to do with it, they won't,,' replied the disgruntled oldster. Picking up the mail sacks and loading them on the sleigh, he prepared for the trip to Fort Wrigley. Looks like we are in for a storm, said Dick, as he was watching Old Man Pete load his sleigh. Don't you think you'd better wait until the storm blows over? ' Old Man Pete pulled his cap over his ears, snorted, and said: No blinkin' snow storm 'll stop me-no siree. XVith me on the job the mail 'll allas go through. But what chance has the mail to go through when a denged airyplane man allas has to wait fer weather? With a concluding snort, Old Man Pete turned to his dogs and, with a word to his lead dog, sleigh, dogs and man were soon lost in the snowy haze. ln Fort Providence, a few hours later, by radio, came the crackling voice of the operator from Canadian Airways' headquarters warning all planes to stay grounded, as one of the Northwest's worst blizzards was blowing up and was expected to strike soon. That will keep me here for a few days, said the young pilot to the factor of the trading post at Fort Providence, and, moving closer to the glowing warmth of the stove, he added: I suppose my old rival will be well on his way to Fort XVrigley by now. Night was approaching as Qld Man Pete reached his destination, a deserted log cabin on the margin of an ice-covered lake, that he always used for shelter after concluding the first lap of his journey. Picking up his axe, he went outside the cabin to get some wood for his fire. Approaching a half- dead tree, he began to chop, and as he was swinging his axe for the last time, the tree shook. and. with a sharp report of rending wood, the tree came crash- ing down. The oldster. not prepared for this un- expected occurrence, and not as agile as he had been in his younger days, felt the heavy timber's crushing weight on his left leg. Stunned, Old Klan Pete lay in the snow for a few minutes collecting his scattered thoughts. Two things he was sure of -his leg was badly broken, and that if he did not receive aid soon, he would die of exposure. lfe must reach the warmth and shelter of the log cabin if he ever hoped to protect his pain-racked body from the biting blizzard of the Northwest. The spirit that had so often carried Old Man Pete through the dangers and hardships of his many years as a mail carrier in the Northwest welled up in him now, and with teeth clenched, he began pulling himself to the goal that meant life. At length he managed to drag his pain-seared leg across the threshold of the cabin, realizing that unconsciousness would drive from his brain any spark of an idea whereby he might convey to his friends at Fort Providence that he needed help, and that speedily. .-X cold muzzle touched the old man's pain-whit- ened face, and turning his head slowly he saw the questioning eyes of his lead dog, his faithful com- panion ever since its puppyhood at Fort Providence. Old Man Pete loved his team of dogs. They had made it possible for him to maintain his unblem- ished record of efficiency as a mail carrier of the CContinued on Page 603 15
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