“STRATOSPHERE EXPRESS”

Wairarapa Times-Age, 11 March 1940, Page 12

“STRATOSPHERE EXPRESS”

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT. COPYRIGHT.

BY

ALROY WEST.

(Author of "Messengers of Death," etc.)

CHAPTER I. There was a sudden commotion in the small crowd, rather as though a great wedge had been thrust into it scattering the divided parts outwards. An inward surge followed. Jim Storm, from hs place on the corner, caught a glimpse of something white. Doors were speedily closed and the ambulance sped on its way. The crowd increased. “Just what happened?” a deep voice asked. Storm swung round and glanced at the speaker. He saw a thick-set man who was wearing a heavy overcoat. The man’s face was large and squarish, whilst his eyes were metallic and gave the impression of power. “A motor cyclist," Storm explained. “He cut across and tried to turn down that side street practically under the bonnet of a bus. His back wheel was caught and the machine sent flying. I should imagine he was badly hurt. ;The metallic eyes scrutinised the ever-increasing crowd. Then they flashed back to Storm. “In a job?” Storm frowned. He rather resented the abrupt question. “Don’t get hot under the collar,” the big man advised. “1 always believe in coming to the point —that s all. “I’m out of work,” Storm confessed. “I wondered. Your type don’t usually hang about street corners. Married?” “No.” “Living at home?” “No. I’m in rooms.”

“Come along then. I can use you.” Storm shrugged his shoulders. He was not sure that the big man impressed him favourably, but a job was a job. “Right,” he said. “But you don’x know my qualifications.” “I do. That’s why I asked you to come with me. You have observation. That’s what I want. Half the people today go about with their eyes shut.” Storm made no comment. His companion didn’t seem to expect one. He was pushing his way vigorously forward.

“My car is quite near,” he explained, as he turned along a narrow passage.

Storms eyes narrowed when he saw the car. It was a long, low, rakishlooking model, evidently capable of great speed. “I’m not sure that I care about the job,” he said suddenly. The big man gave him a keen glance. “Quick, aren’t you? You please me. Get inside.”

Although Jim Storm resented the words, he felt that he had to see things through. He could always turn the thing down if he disliked it. And it was better than spending the time wandering about the streets. “Thought you’d see reason," the big man grunted, placing his hands on the wheel.

“It’s curiosity more than anything else,” Storm told him. “That’s all right. I don't expect you to take me at face value. I suppose you’ve already labelled me as a crook? What do you think I do? Forge notes —or break banks?”

His ugly mouth twisted into a grin. “I hadn’t reached that point yet,” Storm told him. “I was just thinking that, if you have a genuine job to offer, you .have a queer way of selecting an applicant.” “Good judge of character, aren’t you? That’s what they call me. ‘Queer way’ Bessiter. I suppose you haven’t heard of me?”

Bessiter! Bessiter! The name was familiar. Storm racked his brains. Then he remembered.

“Are you the man who organised the Pole to Pole flight?” he asked. The driver of the car smiled.

“I thought you’d remember,” he said with evident satisfaction.

“I cant pilot an aeroplane,' Storm pointed out. “I dont want a pilot,” Bessiter growled. “Use your brains. I shouldn’t have approached you had I wanted somebody to fly a machine for me.” “I don't know whether I should like to have you as my employer,” the young man remarked. Bessiter managed to annoy him intensely. “You’ll find I’m all right to work with," said the other with a chuckle. The car gathered speed. The town was already being left behind. “That Pole-to-Pole flight was a good scheme,” Bessiter shot out. “But my schemes always are. You can make a habit of being successful. It gets into your blood, and you can’t fail. I should have died years back by all the laws of averages.” He gave his snorting laugh. “I’m still around, though. I’m going to do something more spectacular this time.”

“I don’t think I'm much help with spectacular things,” Storm pointed on!. “1 can add up figures, and I can drive a car. That’s about all." “Stuff! I know the man I want the moment I set eyes on him. My method of selecting my employees is not so crazy when you come to examine it. 1 know what I want doing, and I prowl about until I find the man who can do it. Then 1 buy him.’ Storm clenched his fists.

“I doubt whether you can buy me,” he said angrily. Bessiter grinned. “Don’t be a young fool. I tell you the only thing that counts in this world is money. If you had money you wouldn't be shivering on street corners. Those shoes of yours are about finished. I expect you’ve cardboard inside to protect your feet a shade. Don't get hipped, I’ve done the same thing. Do you think I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth?” He snorted. “I've had to reach out and get everything I've wanted. Here we arc.” He pulled up the car so abruptly that Storm was flung against the side. Bessiter made no apology.

“Hop out!” he ordered. Storm obeyed. He looked about him with interest. They had drawn up just in front of a large, squarely-built house which was no great distance from the road.

Bessiter bruhed past Storm, and flung open the iron gate. He pressed on up the path without glancing back to see whether Storm was following him. At the door he gave a thunderous knock with his great fist. "They’re generally asleep,” he muttered crossly.

The door was opened by a maid. Bessiter glared at her, but did not say a word. He motioned for Storm to follow him into the house. Once in the hall, he flung his hat down, peeled off his great coat and walked straight over to one of the doors. “I’m here,” he snapped.

He flung the door open. Storm realised that there were three men in the room. Bessiter had no words of greeting. He just pushed his way past one of the men and reached the fireplace. Then he turned.

“I’ve got the man I want,” he announced.

“Who is he?” asked a rather dapper little man.

“How should I know? I picked him up on a street corner. Come along in —you.” Storm entered the room. “Sit down over there,” Bessiter directed. “Help'yourself to some sandwiches and a drink.” He turned to the others. “Can’t you settle down?” he demanded. “You’re like a pack of performing fleas.” “You seem, unduly annoyed,” the dapper little man protested. Bessiter’s only reply was a snort. “Have you told him?” asked one of the other two men.

Bessiter glared. “What do you take me for?” he demanded. “I want to ask him a few questions first. But I want to look through Purcelowe’s papers as well.” “Here they are,’ said the third man eagerly. . Bessiter snatched them from him and started to read them. Storm had a good look at the three men. The dapper one was on the swarthy side. He probably came from the Mediterranean coast— Spain or Italy. Unless he merely had foreign blood in his veins; he looked half and half. The one called Purcelowe was a very different type. . He appeared to be a clerk. His clothing was rather shabby and he appeared ill at ease. His eyes were shifty and his chin was weak. The other man was a very different type. He was a short, rattjer sharp-faced and appeared slightly sulky. Bessiter threw the papers back at Purcelowe. „ “Not bad,” he said, “Now get out. Purcelowe darted to his feet and scuttled from the room. Bessiter glared after him, and then turned to his companions with a grin. “Rabbit!” he exclaimed contemptuously. “A very useful rabbit.” the dappei one pointed out. Bessiter snorted. „ “Have another sandwich, Storm, he invited.

“No, thanks.” “Um! Drink?” “I’ve had one, thanks.” “A one-drink man. That’s good. He turned to the sulky-looking man. “You might well follow his example, Dickm, he snapped. The sharp features seemed to become almost aquiline. “As a dynamic man of action, Bessiter,” the man drawled, “I find you a positive bore.” Bessiter laughed. “Good. I prefer people to. dislike me.” He shot an accusing finger at Storm. "You'd like to give me a sock on the jaw—wouldn't you?" Storm smiled.

“I seriously thought of doing it—only you were driving the car. “That’s good.” Bessiter took a step nearer. “Do you know why I'm like that? I'll tell you. It gets results. 11 a man has any spirit at all, he'll want to do better than I can—just to show me. You’ve neard of Lake? He was my best pilot in the Pole-to-Pole flight. He crashed. Do you know what he said to me before he passed out? He gave a snorting laugh. “ 'Bessiter,’ he said, ‘I flew with one engine crocked. That’s something you couldn’t do! I’ve beaten you at last! I can’laugh all the way to hell now!" His metallic eyes narrowed.

“Thais the way I like a man. Run from me and I’ll make your life a crawling misery. Turn round and take a kick at me and I’ll start to like you. That’s me!" Storm stood up.

“Suppose you get over the heroics and tell me what you want? he asked calmly. Bessiter burst into laughter which semed to shake his immense frame. He swung round to face the others. “How do you like that, you rats, he demanded.

Dickin shrugged his shoulders.

“You always have your playful moments." he said slowly. “Suppose you do something for a change?" Bessiter walked back to the fireplace. “I'll do things quick enough," he promised.

“You can pass me a drimt, young man,” Dickin flung at Storm. Before Storm could say anything, Bessiter cut in with: "You’ll do no such thing! You take orders from me. And nobody but me —do you understand?" Storm approached him. “As I haven’t taken the job yet. 1 don’t understand," he said coldly. Bessiter grinned.

“That's the stuff! Sit down there. 1 want to ask a few questions. First of all, it’s understood that this is in confidence. Get that?" “Naturally."