Boy's Cinema (1939-40)

12 Sheenan huiTied away. The sheriff had a shoi-t talk in undertones with Paul Smith, then he, too, went off. Tommy walked to his quarters with Skeeter, and there, with the door closed behind him, he paced up and down thinking. He was still pacing up and down an hour later. Skeeter sat on the bed watch- ing him. Suddenly he stopped and con- fronted Skeeter irritably. "Can't you think of something better to do than sit around like a mourner? ' he aemanded. " Why don't you go to the hospital and see how your sister is gettmg on?" "Betty Lou's with her," Skeeter an- swered. " I'm afraid you're stuck with me. Tommy.' „ , , ^ "All right," said Tommy. "But let me concentrate." "Nobody's stopping you." Skeeter found himself a cigarette and lit it. " But if you'd tell a fellow what you're con- centrating on, maybe he could help." Tommy frowned. "In detective stories," he said slowly, "the man sits down with a lisi, of sus- pects, and finds the guilty party by a process of elimination." Skeeter nodded wisely. "That sounds good," he said. "And that's what I've been trying to " You mean you've been trying to think who would v;ant to change those blank cartridges for real ones?" " That's it." "How are you making out?" Tommy frowned again. "I'm down to one name all right," he answered. "Who?" "Me!" There came a knock on the door, and Skeeter went to see who it was. Tex was standing outside. "Hallo, you two!" Tex said. "Say, Tommy, I thought maybe you wouldn't want this camera-gun hanging around, so I brought it along." " Thanks." said Tommy. " Put it on the table over there, will you?" Tex did so. Then he turned towards the door again. But before he went out, he stopped. " Let me know if there's anything I can do to straighten the tangle out, won't you, Tommy?" he said. "Thanks a lot," Tommy answered, and Tex went away. Skeeter scratched his head. He, too, had been doing some thinking. "You know. Tommy, I used to think that Martin was just a big bag of wind," he said. "But he must have been a real flyer all the same. I was watching him coming down—someone freed me just after you took off—and, in spite of being all shot to pieces like he was, he was still trying to pull out of that last dive. He sure had nerve." Tommy nodded. "Yes, he sure had nerve," he said. Then he started. "That's what Sheenan said. He told Martin he had an infernal nerve. Those two dLsliked each other, and " .He broke off. Then he made for the door. "Come on, Skeeter. Help me wheel out a ship." Skeeter looked alarmed. "Wait a minute!" he said. "You're not supposed to leave this place." " I'll be back before anybody knows I've gone," Tommy .said quickly. "I've got to talk to Sheenan." Skeeter did not argue any more. He knew that Tommy must be on to some- thing, and he was going to help all he could. Thev raced to the hangars and pushed a single-seater out on to the tarmac. Tommy climbed in and pulled on a flying- helmet while Skeeter turned over the propeller. "Contact!" shouted Skeeter. "Contact," Tommy replied. Skeeter .'iwung. and the engine started. Tommy revved it up and taxied across Otlojln'r Htli, 1939. BOY'S CINEMA the airfield. Just as he took off, a voice said in Skeeter's ear: "What are you supposed to be doing, Skeeter?" Skeeter turned. It was the sheriff. "Oh—hallo!" Skeeter stammered. "So it's you!" ■• ifes, it's me. Where's Tompkins?" "You mean Tommy?" " Yes, Tommy." The sheriff saw Skeeter swallowing hard, and looked at him grimly. "Well, out with it. What's happened?" Skeeter passed his fingers round the inside of his collar. "Well, you see, it was like this," he stammered. "We thought the hangar looked a bit overcrowded, so we wheeled one of the planes out." "And Tomo'Kins ran away with it, huh?" Skeeter looked after the retreating plane, trying to appear surprised. "So he did!" he said. The sheriff's face went hard. "That's just dandv," he said grimly. "He's got himself into a jam this time all right. Martins just died, and Tomp- kins is wanted for murder!" " Holy smoke!" Skeeter muttered. " IT'S ON THE FILM ! " IN less than. five minutes the law- enforcement agencies far and wide were engaged in a manhunt. The radio announcers took up the hue and cry. "Tnis 'oroaacast is by order of the authorities," they said rapidly. "Tommy Tompkins, wanted for murder, escaped in a low-winged mononlane, licence number NC 16037. Should lie attempt to land in any field, the plane is to be seized and Tompkins held and handed over to the police." Skeeter, listening on the Three Point Airfield radio-set in Paul Smith's office, groaned. "That darned fool of a sheriff thinks he ran away," he said. "Did you tell him he's gone to talk to Sheenan?" Paul Smith asked. "Sure. And he wanted to know why." Betty Lou looked miserable. "Oh, Skeeter, if only you'd gone with him!" she said. "He wouldn't let me," Skeeter said. Just then the door opened and Bobby came in. Bobby was in his nightclothes, and had run all the way from Skeeter's quarters. "Bobby! What are you doing here?" Skeeter demanded. "I was scared," Bobby replied. "Why don't you come home?" "I'm sorry, Bobby. I've been busy." He took Bobby by the hand. "I'll come along with you right now. But, first, I've got to look in at Tommy's place to get something. Come along." They went out. Skeeter pushed open the door of Tommy's room and picked up the camera-gun from the table. Bobby looked at it interestedly. "I know what that is," he said. "It isn't really a machine-gun. It's a camera." "Right first time," said Skeeter. "It belongs to Tommy. We'll take it with us and keep it safe. And when we get back. Til show you how it works." Bobby grinned. "I don't have to be shown. I know," he said. " You do, eh? When did you learn?" "I found out all by myself." Bobby sounded proud of himself. "I went into the workshop while you and Tommy were out of the way, and I turned the handle. I got some good pictures, too—at least, I think they were good." Skeeter laughed; "You'll get yourself hung one of these days, youngster," he said. "If Tommy had seen you with his camera-gun, he'd have chased you all the way from here to the middle of next week. What did you take pictures of?" Every Tuesday "'hJh-. Sheenan." • ■ Mr.—Sheenan!" Skeeter blinked. "Where?" "He came into the hangar early this afternoon. I could see him through the doorway. He was helping load the machine-guns." "He was helping load " Skeeter gulped. Then he took a hold of himself. He had stumbled on something important. "Listen, Bobby. I want you to think care- fully. You saw Mr. Sheenan come into the hangar and do something to one of the machine-guns—is that right?" "Yes, Uncle Skeeter." "And you took some pictures of hinix with the camera-gun?" "Yes, Uncle Skeeter." "Was he alone?" "Yes, he was quite alone." Skeeter hugged the camera-gun close, as though afraid it would grow wings and fly off into the gathering darkness. He bent down and spoke to Bobby seriously. "Listen. Bobby, I've got some work to do. ,1 want you to be a good boy and go back to bed. You understand. I'll come along just as soon as I can." Bobby nodded. "All right. Uncle Skeeter," he said. "But you won't be long, will you?" "I'll be just as quick as possible." Bobby nodded and toddled away. Skeeter broke into a sprint, and burst through the door of Paul Smith's office. "Young Bobby's taken pictures of Sheenan changing the cartridges in Tommy's machine-gun," he said breath- lessly. "Come with me to the dark room —we're going to develop the film." Paul Smith leapt to his feet. "What are you talking about?" he demanded. "I'll tell you all about it later on," Skeeter said. "Follow me!" A quarter of an hour later Skeeter held up a strip of developed film against the dark-room lamp. He and Paul Smith and Betty Lou bent forward and examined it intently. "That's Sheenan all right," Paul Smith announced. "There he is climbing into Tommy's plane." "And here he's doing something to the gun," said Betty Lou excitedly. " We've got to make prints of these pic- tures right away," said Skeeter. "Turn on that electric fan so that I can get the film drv enough to go into the enlarger. Hurry!" An hour afterwai'ds they hurried into the sheriff's office. Triumphantly Skeeter laid a series of prints in front of the old man and said: "Does this tell you anything?" The sheriff looked up at Skeeter, frowned, and then bent over the prints. His eyes began to open wide. " It's Sheenan!" he said. "It is." said Skeeter. and pointed to one of the prints. "See what he's doing?" The sheriff drew in his breath sharply. "He's putting some cartridges into trie machine-gun." He reached out for the telephone. "You can tell me all about how you got these later. In the mean- time, Mr. Sheenan will have to come back here and do a whole lot of explaining." He spoke rapidly into the telephone. When he hung up, he went on: '.'Sheenan's train had just stopped at Brunswick. The next stop is Mayfield, and it's due there in thirty-five minutes. How soon could we get to the place by plane?" "Thirty minutes flat," said Skeeter. "We'll take the transport ship. Is that all right by you, Mr. Smith?" "Everything's all right by me," Paul Smith replied. " Let's get back to the air- port." They piled into Paul Smith's car, and roared over the roads. While the trans- port plane was being wheeled out, Pav^l Smith got hold of Tex and gave him rapid instructions. And as the machine climbed into the