“Ah know Eugene,” the black woman said. “Ah did a show there last summer. Nice little airfield they have.”
“That’s good to know, madam,” said Dipper, “always supposing we can find it.”
“Jack, go see what maps we can spare,” Hiram ordered one of the others.
“Madam!” The black woman laughed. “Ah don’t get called that too often. Bessie’s my name, Bessie Coleman.”
“How do you do, Miss Coleman.” Dipper introduced himself and Alec and Daisy, and Miss Coleman introduced her colleagues. They were barnstormers, they explained, who had just put on a show in Denver and were moving on to fresh pastures.
Daisy and Dipper left it to Alec to explain their arrival in Denver at dawn on a Sunday.
Daisy did not hear how much he revealed, as Miss Coleman said to her, “Ah expect you’d like to wash up, Miz Fletcher. They don’t have a little girls’ room here, but Ah’ll stand outside the men’s room while you go in.”
“Gosh, thanks! I’ve been making do with bushes. Real plumbing will be sheer heaven.”
“It’s not elegant,” Miss Coleman warned, leading the way towards the buildings. “Y’all are English, aren’t you? Ah learnt to fly in France. Ah was always crazy for it, and Ah couldn’t find anyone over here who’d teach me. Then Ah came back to show people what a coloured woman can do if she puts her mind to it.”
“Good for you! I’m not exactly sure, what are barnstormers?”
“Fools who risk their lives to give the rubes a thrill because that’s the only way they can make a living flying airplanes, and that’s the only thing they want to do. Gypsies, they call us. We put on an air circus to attract the crowds. Ideally they pay to see us loop the loop and walk the wings and so on. Hiram has a great new stunt where we fly in formation and he climbs down by rope ladder from the top plane to the one in the middle, and then to the bottom one. But of course anyone who wants can see it from outside.”
“I suppose so,” said Daisy.
“The real money comes from taking people up for joy rides. We make enough to buy gasoline and food and keep the Jennies more or less in flying condition, and maybe a bit over.” She shrugged. “We get by, and we’re doing what we want. Ah guess that’s about as much as anyone can ask for.”
“That’s how I feel about writing,” Daisy told her, “or Idid, till I got married. I’m going to write an article about flying.”
“Flying’s been in the Denver papers the last couple of days. Some guy was arrested in Ohio for flying over a city and dropping leaflets. They’re more forward looking here in Denver—the citizens are going to raise money for a municipal flying field, and they’re going to put up an airplane lighthouse on Pikes Peak. There was a column about a new record air speed, too. Two hundred fifty-nine miles per hour, think of that!”
“It’s not so long since they said the human body couldn’t survive travelling at thirty miles an hour!” Daisy exclaimed as they reached the men’s room.
It was not the most salubrious place Daisy had ever found herself in, but it was definitely an improvement over bushes. She emerged feeling a bit less grubby, at least about the face and hands.
“Ah missed what your husband was saying about why y’all are here,” Miss Coleman said as they walked back towards the aeroplane.
“We’re chasing an air pirate.”
“Is that right? That makes those train bandits they’re hunting over in the Siskiyous look real old-fashioned! And you think he’s heading for Eugene?”
“That’s where he’s from. It’s only a guess that he’d make for home, though,” Daisy admitted. “He knows the mountains and forests, so he’d find it easy to disappear if we don’t get there in time to stop him. At least, the police may be on the lookout, but we’ve no way of knowing, and they’re not likely to pay any heed to a telegram from people they know nothing about.”
“So you’re in a hurry,” said Miss Coleman thoughtfully.
“Rather. Oh dear, Alec’s not looking very happy.”
Alec was frowning over a couple of maps spread out on the lower wing, with Hiram beside him explaining something, while Dipper was supervising refuelling.
“What’s up, darling?” Daisy asked.
“Mountains,” Alec said briefly. “Dipper, have you any experience flying through high mountains?”
“Not me.” Dipper came over. “Nothing higher than the Alleghenies we crossed in Pennsylvania. Trouble?”
“Flying due west, we’d have to cross at least one pass at nearly twelve thousand feet, but going round by the south makes it considerably farther. I suppose we’ll have to go the long way.”
“Waste of time, dash it. Let’s go …” Dipper smothered a huge yawn. “Let’s go for it. Where’s that coffee?”
A fit of yawning overcame Alec.
