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Show Silver Wings By BYRON McCLURE McClure Newspaper Syndicate. WNU Features. """ARE to dance?" Captain ' David Holbrook had been drawn by some irresistible force across the ballroom to the uniformed girl sitting alone at the corner table. Cool gray eyes appraised him and time stood still for a moment as they gazed into each other's eyes: then the girl nodded. Gradually they drifted to the edge of the floor and through a door opening on a small balcony. Neither spoke. Speech was unnecessary. It was enough to ore together, complete in each other. Finally David broke the silence, "Just . . . like . . . that!" She smiled tremulously. "Yes, just . . . like . . . that. I had never believed be-lieved it could happen so suddenly." "Neither had I. Gives you a sort of all-gone feeling inside, doesn't it?" She nodded. "Just like pulling out of a dive." David grinned. "Exactly! But what do you know about pulling out of dives, young lady?" She pointed to a pair of shining silver wings pinned to her. jacket. "I'm in the Air Corps," she said simply, unable to conceal the pride in her voice. David laughed gaily. "What's so funny about that?" she demanded. "Funny? Why, I was just laughing happily at finding that we're in the same outfit." "You know that's not true," she retorted, anger in her voice, "it's just that you men are all alike! You're not willing to admit that women can do things you can . . . just as well and sometimes better! If men aren't the stupidest, the most conceited . . . !" she paused, searching search-ing for words. Finding none, she gave him a stinging slap. Almost roughly he grabbed her arms. "Listen, you little idiotl I get so sick of seeing you women carrying carry-ing chips on your shoulders, daring anyone to suggest that you aren't really doing men's jobs. Why does a uniform have to go to a woman's head? You could punch that typewriter type-writer in some office just as well without it." She started to answer him but, instead, struggled from his grasp and disappeared in the crowded ballroom. David fell asleep that night dreaming that he was falling through space. But an angel swooped down on silver wings to catch him before he crashed. When he arrived at the airport in the morning the dispatcher approached him. "Your plane has already been warmed up for your ferrying mission. mis-sion. Captain. Lieutenant Winters is ready to take off whenever you say so, Sir." "Thank you. I'm all set. Let's go." David was anxious to get into the air, where he was at home, where he could think. His mind was still filled with thoughts of that girl. So preoccupied was he that he ran straight into the storm before he realized it. A blinding streak of lightning zigzagged across the sky just in front of the nose of his ship! With senses newly alert, he glanced hurriedly at the instrument panel. The compass indicator was spinning crazily. That bolt had knocked out its delicate mechanism. David knew it was useless to turn back. He would be just as, hopelessly lost as he was now. Drat that girl! If he'd had his mind on his business instead of on her, he'd have paid more attention at-tention to the weather report. He pulled back on the stick and pushed the throttle forward, attempting at-tempting to rise. Almost immediately imme-diately ice began to form on the wings and propeller; his rate of climb decreased rapidly. He shuddered shud-dered as he envisaged the jagged peaks below. Then he remembered the other plane. He craned his neck and peered back, not daring to hope. There it was, doggedly following, fol-lowing, just a few hundred feet behind! be-hind! Hastily he flipped the transmitter trans-mitter switch. "Flight leader to flight! Flight leader to flight! Can you hear me? Come in, flight!" A familiar feminine voice came clearly. "Flight to flight leader! I can hear you. Go ahead. Sir!" David thought he was dreaming again. "Wh-who are you?" Again that coo voice. "I'm Lieutenant Lieu-tenant Winters. Sir. The girl punching punch-ing a typewriter in some office. Or don't you remember?" "Why didn't you tell me you were a Ferry Pilot?" he demanded. "You didn't give me a chance. You probably wouldn't have believed be-lieved it, anyway. Women aren't supposed to be capable of doing such things, are they?" After a moment of silence David said meekly, "Will you take command com-mand of the flight. Lieutenant? My compass is knocked out. I'm completely com-pletely lost." "Yes, Sir." Crisply she ordered, "let me pass." David marveled at the ease with which she out-maneuvered out-maneuvered the storm. In a matter of minutes they emerged into the glorious sunshine. David slowly eased up alongside. As they flew wing tip to wing tip he could almost reach out and touch her. "Lieutenant Winters?" he asked. "Yes, Sir?" "I . . . well, I . . . there's something some-thing I'd like to say to you. tonight Lieutenant. Do you think you'd care to listen?" There was no mistaking the emphasis she placed on her answer-mg, answer-mg, "Yes. Sir!" |