The Red Cap puts the golf clubs on the scale.
“You might try the ATC, Captain,” says the agent to Fred.
“ATC? Where are they?” asks Fred.
“Out the terminal, to your right, and across the field,” replies the agent.
“Thanks!” says Fred.
“You have sixteen pounds excess baggage, Mister Gibbons,” says the agent.
“Oh, that’s alright,” replies Gibbons. “How much is it?”
On the airfield tarmac, Fred walks past a Western Airlines DC-4, tail number NC 10201. A crowd of passengers load up an air stair in the rear of the plane. Fred walks under the plane to cross the field.
At the Army Air Forces Air Transport Command shack, Fred climbs the stairs to the waiting room. The shack is crowded with servicemen, in varying states of sleeping, sitting, reading, and chatting.
“Right-o, sir,” says a sergeant into a telephone. “At ease, men!” he shouts. “Flight Ninety-Three! Flight Ninety-Three for Denver, San Francisco, and Seattle!” Many servicemen stand up to board.
“That flight has been canceled, until further notice,” finishes the sergeant. Moans and groans about the cancelation fill the room.
A corporal approaches the counter. “Yeah?” asks the sergeant.
“You got anything for Detroit?” asks the corporal.
“Nope,” says the sergeant. “How about Cleveland?”
“Cleveland?” replies the corporal. “Okay!”