hr.thecarpetbaggers-第71部分

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　I　turned　to　look　at　David　Woolf。　He　was　watching　me　with　a　strange　expression　on　his　face。　〃You　knew；〃　I　said。
　He　nodded；　getting　to　his　feet。　〃I　knew。〃
　〃Why　didn't　you　tell　me？〃
　〃How　could　I？〃　he　asked。　〃My　uncle　was　afraid　if　you　found　out；　you　wouldn't　want　his　stock。〃
　A　strange　silence　came　into　the　room　as　I　picked　up　the　telephone　again。　I　gave　the　operator　Morrissey's　number　at　Roosevelt　Field。
　〃Do　you　want　me　to　leave　now？〃　Woolf　asked。
　I　shook　my　head。　I　had　been　neatly　suckered　into　buying　a　worthless　pany；　shorn　like　a　baby　lamb；　but　I　had　no　right　to　plain。　I'd　known　all　the　rules。
　But　now　even　that　didn't　matter。　Nothing　mattered。　The　only　thing　that　did　was　Rina。　I　swore　impatiently；　waiting　for　Morrissey　to　pick　up　the　phone。
　The　only　chance　I　had　of　getting　to　Rina　in　time　was　to　fly　out　there　in　the　CA…4。
　
　5
　
　THE　BRIGHTLY　LIT　HANGAR　WAS　A　FRENZY　OF　ACTIVITY。
　The　welders　were　up　on　the　wings；　their　masks　down；　their　torches　burning　with　a　hot　blue　flame　as　they　fused　the　reserve　fuel　tanks　to　the　wings。　The　pile　of　junk　beside　the　plane　was　growing　as　the　mechanics　stripped　her　of　everything　that　added　weight　and　yet　was　not　absolutely　essential　to　flight。
　I　checked　my　watch　as　Morrissey　came　toward　me。　It　was　almost　twelve　o'clock。　That　made　it　near　nine　in　California。　〃How　long　now？〃　I　asked。
　〃Not　too　long。〃　He　looked　down　at　the　sheet　of　paper　in　his　hand。　〃With　everything　stripped　off　her；　we're　still　fourteen　hundred　pounds　over　lift　capacity。〃
　The　Midwest　was　pletely　locked　in　by　storms；　according　to　our　weather　checks。　If　I　wanted　to　get　through；　I'd　have　to　fly　south　around　them。　Morrissey　had　figured　we'd　need　forty…three　per　cent　more　fuel　just　for　the　flight　itself　and　at　least　seven　per　cent　more　for　a　safety　margin。
　〃Why　don't　you　hold　off　until　morning？〃　Morrissey　asked。　〃Maybe　the　weather　will　lift　and　you　can　go　straight　through。〃
　〃No。〃
　〃For　Christ's　sake；〃　he　snapped。　〃You'll　never　even　get　her　off　the　ground。　If　you're　that　anxious　to　get　yourself　killed；　why　don't　you　use　a　gun！〃
　I　turned　and　looked　over　at　the　pile　of　junk　beside　the　plane。　〃How　much　does　the　radio　weigh？〃
　〃Five　hundred　and　ten　pounds；〃　he　answered　quickly。　Then　he　stared　at　me。　〃You　can't　dump　that！　How　the　hell　will　you　know　where　you　are　or　what　the　weather　is　like　up　ahead？〃
　〃Same　way　I　did　before　they　put　radios　in　planes。　Dump　it！〃
　He　started　to　walk　back　to　the　plane；　shaking　his　head。　I　had　another　idea。　〃The　oxygen…pressure　system　for　the　cockpit？〃
　〃Six　hundred　and　seventy　pounds；　including　the　tanks。〃
　〃Dump　that；　too；〃　I　said。　〃I'll　fly　low。〃
　〃You'll　need　oxygen　to　get　over　the　Rockies。〃
　〃Put　a　portable　tank　in　the　cockpit　next　to　me。〃
　I　went　into　the　office　and　called　Buzz　Dalton　at　the　Intercontinental　office　in　Los　Angeles。　He'd　already　left　so　they　transferred　the　call　to　his　home。　〃Buzz；　this　is　Jonas。〃
　〃I　was　wondering　when　I'd　hear　from　you。〃
　〃I　want　you　to　do　me　a　favor。〃
　〃Sure；〃　he　said　quickly。　〃What？〃
　〃I'm　flying　out　to　the　Coast　tonight；〃　I　said。　〃And　I　want　you　to　have　weather　signals　up　for　me　at　every　ICA　hangar　across　the　country。〃
　〃What's　the　matter　with　your　radio？〃
　〃I'm　taking　the　CA…4　out　nonstop。　And　I　can't　drag　the　weight。〃
　He　whistled。　〃You'll　never　make　it；　buddy　boy。〃
　〃I'll　make　it；〃　I　said。　〃Use　the　searchlight　blinkers　at　night；　paint　the　rooftops　during　the　day。〃
　〃Will　do；〃　he　said。　〃What's　your　flight　pattern？〃
　〃I　haven't　decided　the　pattern　yet。　Just　have　all　the　fields　covered。〃
　〃Will　do；〃　he　said。　〃Good　luck。〃
　I　put　down　the　telephone。　That's　what　I　liked　about　Buzz。　He　was　dependable。　He　didn't　waste　time　with　foolish　questions　like　why；　when　or　where。　He　did　as　he　was　told。　The　only　thing　he　cared　about　was　the　airline。　That　was　why　ICA　was　rapidly　being　the　largest　mercial　airline　in　the　country。
　I　took　the　bottle　of　bourbon　out　of　the　desk　and　took　a　long　pull　off　it。　Then　I　went　over　to　the　couch　and　stretched　out。　My　legs　hung　over　the　edge　but　I　didn't　care。　I　could　grab　a　little　rest　while　the　mechanics　were　finishing　up。　I　closed　my　eyes。
　I　sensed　Morrissey　standing　near　me　and　opened　my　eyes。　〃Ready？〃　I　asked；　looking　up　at　him。
　He　nodded。
　I　swung　my　feet　down　from　the　couch　and　sat　up。　I　looked　out　at　the　hangar。　It　was　empty。　〃Where　is　she？〃
　〃Outside；〃　he　said。　〃I'm　having　her　warmed　up。〃
　〃Good；〃　I　said。　I　looked　at　my　watch。　It　was　a　few　minutes　past　three。　He　followed　me　into　the　john。　〃You're　tired；〃　he　said；　watching　while　I　splashed　cold　water　on　my　face。　〃Do　you　really　think　you　should　go？〃
　〃I　have　to。〃
　〃I　put　six　roast…beef　sandwiches　and　two　quart　Thermos　bottles　of　black　coffee　in　the　plane　for　you。〃
　〃Thanks；〃　I　said；　starting　out。
　His　hand　stopped　me。　He　held　out　a　small　white　bottle。　〃I　called　my　doctor；〃　he　said；　〃and　he　brought　these　out　for　you。〃
　〃What　are　they？〃
　〃A　new　pill。　Benzedrine。　Take　one　if　you　get　sleepy。　It'll　wake　you　up。　But　be　careful　with　them。　Don't　take　too　many　or　you'll　go　through　the　roof。〃
　We　started　out　for　the　plane。　〃Don't　open　your　reserve　fuel　tanks　until　you're　down　to　a　quarter　tank。　The　gravity　feed　won't　pull　if　she　registers　more　than　that　and　it　might　even　lock。〃
　〃How　will　I　know　if　the　reserve　tanks　are　working？〃　I　asked。
　He　looked　at　me。　〃You　won't　until　you　run　out　of　gas。　And　if　she　locks；　the　air　pressure　will　keep　your　gauge　at　a　quarter　even　if　the　tank　is　dry。〃
　I　shot　a　quick　look　at　him　but　didn't　speak。　We　kept　on　walking。　I　climbed　up　on　the　wing　and　turned　toward　the　cockpit。　A　hand　pulled　at　my　trouser　leg。　I　turned　around。
　Forrester　was　looking　up　at　me　with　a　shocked　look　on　his　face。　〃What　are　you　doing　with　the　plane？〃
　〃Going　to　California。〃
　〃But　what　about　the　tests　tomorrow？〃　he　shouted。　〃I　even　got　Steve　Randall　out　here　tonight　to　look　at　her。〃
　〃Sorry；〃　I　said。　〃Call　it　off。〃
　〃But　the　General；〃　he　yelled。　〃How'll　I　explain　to　him？　He'll　blow　his　stack！〃
　I　climbed　into　the　cockpit　and　looked　down　at　him。　〃That's　not　my　headache　any　more；　it's　yours。〃
　〃But　what　if　something　happens　to　the　plane？〃
　I　grinned　suddenly。　I'd　been　right　in　my　hunch　about　him。　He'd　make　a　first…rate　executive。　There　wasn't　an　ounce　of　concern　about　me；　only　for　the　plane。　〃Then　build　another　one；〃　I　shouted。　〃You're　president　of　the　pany。〃
　I　waved　my　hand；　and　releasing　the　brakes；　began　to　taxi　slowly　out　on　the　runway。　I　turned　her　into　the　wind　and　held　her　there　while　I　revved　up　the　motor。　I　pulled　the　canopy　shut　and　when　the　tachometer　reached　twenty…eight；　I　let　go　of　the　brakes。
　We　raced　down　the　runway。　I　didn't　even　try　to　lift　her　until　my　ground　speed　reached　a　hundred　and　forty。　We　were　almost　out　of　runway　before　she　began　to　chew　off　a　piece　of　sky。　After　that；　she　lifted　easily。
　I　leveled　off　at　four　thousand　feet　and　headed　due　south。　I　looked　over　my　shoulder。　The　North　Star　was　right　in　the　middle　of　my　back；　flickering　brightly　in　the　clear；　dark　sky。　It　was　hard　to　believe　that　less　than　a　thousand　miles　from　here　the　skies　were　locked　in。
　I　was　over　Pittsburgh　when　I　remembered　something　Nevada　had　taught　me　when　I　was　a　kid。　We　were　trailing　a　big　cat　and　he　pointed　up　at　the　North　Star。　〃The　Indians　have　a　saying　that　when　the　North　Star　flickers　like　that；〃　he　said；　〃a　storm　is　moving　south。〃
　I　looked　up　again。　The　North　Star　was　flickering　exactly　as　it　had　that　night。　I　remembered　another　Indian　saying　that　Nevada　taught　me。　The　quickest　way　west　is　into　the　wind。
　My　mind　was　made　up。　If　the　Indians　were　right；　by　the　time　I　hit　the　Midwest；　the　storm　would　be　south　of　me。　I　banked　the　plane　into　the　wind　and　when　I　looked　up　from　the　pass；　the　North　Star　was　dancing　brightly　off　my　right　shoulder。
　
　My　back　ached；　everything　ached　…　my　shoulders；　my　arms　and　legs　…　and　my　eyelids　weighed　a　ton。　I　felt　them　begin　to　close　and　reached　for　the　coffee　Thermos。　It　was　empty。　I　looked　at　my　watch。　Twelve　hours　since　I　had　left　Roosevelt　Field。　I　stuck　my　hand　into　my　pocket　and　took　out　the　box　of　pills　Morrissey　had　given　me。　I　put　one　in　my　mouth　and　swallowed　it。
　For　a　few　minutes；　I　felt　nothing；　then　I　began　to　feel　better。　I　took　a　deep　breath　and　scanned　the　horizon。　The　way　I　figured；　I　shouldn't　be　too　far　from　the　Rockies。　Twenty…five　minutes　later；　they　came　into　view。
　I　checked　the　fuel　gauge。　It　held　steady　on　one　quarter。　I　had　opened　the　reserve　tanks。　The　fringe　of　the　storm　I'd　passed　through　in　the　Midwest　had　cost　me　more　than　an　hour's　supply　of　gasoline　and　I'd　need　a　break　from　the　wind　to　get　through。
　I　turned　the　throttle　and　listened　to　the　engines。　Their　roar　sounded　full　and　heavy　as　the　richer　mixture　poured　into　their　veins。　I　leaned　back　on　the　stick　and　began　to　climb　toward　the　mountains。　I　still　felt　a　little　tired　so　I　popped　another　pill　into　my　mouth。
　At　twelve　thousand　feet；　I　began　to　feel　chilly。　I　slipped　the　huarachos　back　on　my　feet　and　reached　for　the　oxygen　tube。　Almost　immediately；　I　felt　as　if　the　plane　had　just　jumped　three　thousand　feet　I　looked　at　the　altimeter。　It　read　only　twelve　four　hundred。
　I　sucked　again　on　the　tube。　A　burst　of　power　came　roaring　through　my　body　and　I　placed　my　hands　on　the　dashboard。　To　hell　with　the　gasoline！　I　could　lift　this　baby　over　the　Rockies　with　my　bare　hands。　It　was　only　a　question　of　will　power。　Like　the　fakirs　in　India　said　when　they　confounded　you　with　their　tricks　of　levitation　…　it　was　only　a　question　of　mind　over　matter。　It　was　all　in　the　mind。
　Rina！　I　almost　shouted　aloud。　I　stared　at　the　altimeter。　The　needle　had　dropped　to　ninety…five　hundred　feet　and　was　still　dropping。　I　stared　over　the　plane　at　the　mountain　creeping　up　at　me。　I　put　my　hand　on　the　stick　and　pulled　back。　It　seemed　like　forever　until　the　mountain　began　to　fall　beneath　me　again。
　I　lifted　my　hands　to　wipe　the　sweat　from　my　brow。　My　cheeks　were　wet　with　tears。　The　strange　feeling　of　power　was　gone　now　and　my　head　began　to　ache。　Morrissey　had　warned　me　about　the　pills　and　the　oxygen　had　helped　a　little；　too。　I　touched　the　throttle　and　carefully　regulated　the　mixture　as　it　went　into　the　motors。
　I　still　had　almost　four　hundred　miles　to