The sky jinx

THE SKY JINX

By Raoul F. Whitfield

Eddie Bride had got himself a reputation as a hard luck
flyer in France, and seemed to be out for a new record
with the Philippine Air patrol

It’s strange how some men will remember a face and forget a voice, while others will pick up a lost thread in just the opposite way. In my case I’m pretty good at registering a face. But it isn’t that way with Prop Owens. When it comes to picking out a voice—he’s a wizard. And his eyes let him down on human face shapes. Actually, he doesn’t care about a man’s looks. But he claims he can tell almost everything by the way a fellow speaks up, or doesn’t speak. Maybe he’s right.

Hot? The old Walled City can be hot in the dry season when there isn’t much of a breeze edging in toward Manila from Cavite and the bay. Everything is so dry that it crackles, and you get that tired feeling inside and a dry taste along the roof of your mouth. The natives and Chinks move along and grin about it. The whites move along, but they don’t always grin. They curse the luck that keeps them away from Baguio up in the mountains.