sing situation. Jane washed her
face and hands and walked outside to watch the sun go down behind the
Jersey hills.

She was hungry, but the tri-motor she had come in on had been trundled
away to a distant hangar and there was little chance that she could
find it and rummage through the pantry for anything to eat.

Jane skimmed through the magazines in the waiting room and selected one
on aviation. She had hardly settled herself when a young woman burst
into the room.

"Where's Jane Cameron?" demanded the newcomer.

"I'm Jane Cameron," replied the stewardess.

"What a break! I'm Ruthe Harrigan, special writer for the _New York
Globe_. Late as usual in getting my assignment. Afraid I had missed
you. How about your story? Sold it to anyone yet?"

"Why, no," stammered the surprised Jane. "I talked to a number of
reporters but they didn't say anything about paying me."

"They wouldn't," snorted the newcomer. "Let's hop outside and get a
bite to eat. Then we'll make a deal for your first-person story of the
battle with the bandits."

Ruthe Harrigan led Jane to a comfortable restaurant only a block from
the hangar and after sizzling steaks had been served, plied Jane with
questions.

"I'm after a first-person story of what happened on your trip in," she
explained. "We'll pay you well for permission to use your name above
the story."

"But what would Mrs. Van Verity Vanness and company officials say?"

"I'll call the Federated publicity office," said the energetic Ruthe.
Jane talked to the New York publicity head of Federated, and he
approved of the story. Another call to Mrs. Van Verity Vanness brought
her consent.

"Make them pay a good price," she advised Jane.

Dinner over, they hastened back to the Federated hangar where the
reporter borrowed a typewriter. "Now tell me everything that happened
and how you felt."

"But we haven't agreed on a price," said Jane.

"How about $50?"

"That doesn't seem enough. Won't this be front page news?"

"I should say it will. Every other New York paper will probably turn
green with envy."

"Then $50 isn't enough."

"I might be able to get $100," urged the reporter.

"Don't take less than $500," advised the night dispatcher. "If the
_Globe_ won't pay it, call some of the other papers. They will."

In desperation, Ruthe Harrigan called her editor and before Jane gave
her a line of copy, a check for $500 was in the hands of the
stewardess.

It was more money th