might want to remind Jack of that need while I finish scoring your exam. You can find him at the flight school.”
Darcy must be very sure Jen was going pass in order to make that suggestion. Before she could find another error, Jen hurried out into the bitter cold afternoon.
* * *
The flight school office was as frigid as an icehouse and just as quiet. Dan Wagner set his Stetson on the battered oak table and took a seat. Across from him sat Jack Hunter, owner of the school, and Hendrick Simmons, owner of the aeromotor factory that he’d read about in one of his aviation magazines. If the article was right, they had an engine that would win him the airmail contract and let him leave stunt flying forever.
After introductions, Dan drove straight to why he’d come across the country in this coldest of months. “I’m looking for an engine that’ll run reliably at temperatures well below freezing.”
He had already told Simmons that when he visited the factory this morning. Instead of answering, Simmons had brought him to the flight school to talk to Jack Hunter. That name was vaguely familiar, but Dan couldn’t quite place the man. Why Simmons insisted on this meeting was beyond his comprehension. Either he had an engine that met the specifications or he didn’t. End of story. Bringing in a third party only muddied the waters in Dan’s opinion, but Simmons wouldn’t back down.
Hunter, a suave sandy-haired man with the look of a first-class aviator, glanced at Simmons before taking the lead. “We’ve been working on that problem for over a year. Longer, in fact. My wife and I first started puzzling it out after our failed transatlantic attempt. We brought in Hendrick once he had the factory up and running.”
Simmons, a man of few words if today was any indication, nodded.
“Transatlantic attempt?” Dan couldn’t get past the tidbit that Hunter had glossed over so casually. “I followed all the newspaper reports back in ’19, but I don’t recall your name. How far did you get?”
Hunter’s easy grin told Dan he didn’t harbor any regrets. “We never made it to Newfoundland thanks to the icing problems. Solving that is a big part of a successful polar attempt.”
“Polar attempt?” Now Dan was truly stunned. In such a small town, he’d never expected to hear the words polar and attempt in the same sentence. He must have misunderstood. “I thought the navy scrapped their dirigible expedition. Is it back on?” He looked from Hunter to Simmons. If they were making the engines for some as yet unannounced naval expedition, then there was big backing behind Simmons Aeromotor. This was exactly what Dan was looking for. “Or are you supplying engines to Amundsen?” It seemed a far stretch for a company in a tiny American town to send motors to the Norwegian explorer, but he supposed it was possible.
“Nope.” Hunter grinned. “We’re not helping any other expedition. We’re competing.”
Dan’s jaw dropped at the audacious statement. “You? Attempt to fly to the North Pole?” He raked a hand through his wavy hair. “That takes a lot of logistics and some mighty big funding.”
“That it does.”
Apparently the man had a lot more backing than Dan had figured. “Who is on your flight crew?” He looked at Simmons. “Do you fly?”
Simmons shook his head violently.
Hunter laughed. “Hendrick’s no aviator. My wife planned to come along.”
“Your wife?” Dan sat back in shock. Many women flew. Some, like the Stinson sisters or Ruth Law, had done so with unquestioned expertise. Still, a polar attempt was different. Dangerous. Deadly. “You’d risk your wife’s life?”
“I wouldn’t have had a choice. This was her dream.” Hunter’s expression softened. “But she pulled herself off the expedition. We’re expecting a baby.”
“Congratulations,” Dan said automatically. “She’s a smart woman.” He shuddered at the memory of the accident that had ended his season. If a baby had been involved, he wouldn’t have been able to live with himself. As it was, he couldn’t shake the taste and smell of death. “Some people don’t know when to stay on the ground.”
Hunter gave him an odd look. “Enough about our plans. Hendrick tells me you want to run in some pretty tough conditions.”
The change of topic had to be deliberate. Hunter had mentioned their plans to impress him, not interest him. Fair enough. Dan had plans of his own. “Montana gets bitter in the winter. Snow, wind, blizzards. The airmail route I’m aiming to bid on goes clear to the border. Some of these folks are isolated. Receiving and sending mail would be a godsend. I could even bring in a few supplies. Medicine, food, necessities,” Dan ticked off an impressive list. “This isn’t just an airmail contract. This is a lifeline for those folks. I need a more reliable motor than what I have now.”
The next hour was absorbed by a discussion of Dan’s current plane, a modified Curtiss Jenny, and the motor’s limitations. Neither Simmons nor Hunter seemed to recognize him. He’d wanted it that way to keep prices down. Most men figured Daring Dan Wagner, headliner on the air-show circuit, had barrels of money. He didn’t. His earnings went to keeping the family ranch out of the bank’s hands. Every year seemed to bring a new crisis that tapped his funds. This year had been quiet—except for his accident—and he aimed to keep it that way. Daring Dan had made his last death drop.
“I assume you’ve had problems?” Hunter asked.
“The motor works great in the heat,” Dan said, “but I have fits keeping it going in cold weather. I’m hoping your engine will solve the icing problem.”
“We’re working on it,” Simmons said.
That did not sound good. “Are you close? The bids are due by the end of next month.”
“We plan to make the next test run as soon as the winds die down,” Hunter chimed in. “Could be tomorrow if the forecast is right.”
“I’d like to see that flight,” Dan said. “Your engine could give me the edge I need to land the contract.”
“Fine with me, if it’s all right with Hendrick.”
Simmons nodded. “We couldn’t produce another engine in time for your deadline, but we could get it done in, say, three months.”
“That’ll have to do.” Dan hoped a letter to that effect would sway those making the decision. “First we have to make sure it does the job.”
“It will.” Simmons seemed confident.
Hunter was less so. “Even if this engine takes care of carburetor icing, how do you plan to combat icing on the wings and fuselage?”
Dan was impressed. Hunter had nailed the next biggest problem right on the head. Wing icing was deadly. Any pilot worth his salt knew it. “You’re the one planning a polar attempt. You must have come up with some ideas.”
Hunter shook his head. “Weather will be an issue. Too cold, and the engines won’t start. Too warm, and moisture ices the plane.”
“Then you haven’t found a solution.”
“Not yet.”
Dan
