“STRATOSPHERE EXPRESS”

Wairarapa Times-Age, 23 March 1940, Page 10

“STRATOSPHERE EXPRESS”

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT. COPYRIGHT.

BY

ALROY WEST.

(Author of “Messengers of Death,” etc.)

CHAPTER IX. It was a sultry night. There was not a breath of air to rustle the leaves or to give one a comfortable feeling of freshness. Storm hurried, along the road, keeping as much in the shadows as possible. He made for the nearest, garage and hired a car, giving the chauffeur instructions to drive towards Essex Street. As they drew near this destination, Storm noticed an increasing congestion of traffic. At last the car edged' towards the pavement. Storm stepped out. "This is the best I "can do, sir,” the driver told him. “I think there’s a fire somewhere.” , “There is. Wait here for me. I don’t quite know how long I shall be.” “What about that side street then, sir. I may be moved from here by the police.” “I’d forgotten that. The side street will do nicely.” Still keeping a firm grip on the papers he was carrying, Storm started to work his way through the crowd. At first it was comparatively easy going, but once round the corner it became more difficult. Glancing upwards, he could see the dull red glow from the burning building. He still pressed forward. Some people made way for him but others, eager to see for themselves, since a fire is everyone’s entertainment, pushed back, or muttered curses at him. Nevertheless he edged onwards until he reached a second turning. The glow from the fire seemed to leap outwards and burn at his face. Smoke and flame were in front of him. There was a crackling and roaring striving to rise above the steady sizzling of columns of water. The two great servants of man. both of whom could revolt and become, a deadly enemy, were fighting over the ruins of an outpost belonging to their master. Metal girders seemed to bend and vibrate in the shimmering furnace. Columns of water, curving majestically plunged to the attack. Thick, billowing smoke puffed upwards. Dense clouds of steam surged outwards. And behind the barrier of smoke the great flames licked upwards as though threatening the stars. Underfoot there were trickles of water. The crowd moved spasmodically, controlled by anxious police. Firemen went about their business with a deliberation born of experience. Storm was jammed against some railings and could not push any further. He wondered what was happening just beyond the fringe of the crowd. Was Bessiter there? Or had he ventured into the inferno? “How did it start?” somebody asked. There were a dozen answers, all contradictory. But Storm remembered the smiling Lovac, and could hear again the words. “I rather incline to the opinion of arson. I don’t know. I hope your arrangements are very good for dealing with such an emergency.” And Bessiter had said that he was always ready. For once, evidently, he had been taken off his guard. Somebody moved away and Storm pushed ahead once more. He realised that it was just possible to squeeze through between the edge of the crowd and the railings. He tried it and a second or so later was talking to one of the policemen. The constable was suspicious but before he could say very much a smokegrimed Bessiter darted forward. “Storm!” he snapped. “What are you doing here?” They quickly moved away from the curious crowd. “Safest place for the plans,” Storm said. “I’ve just heard that Macready was killed in a flying disaster. It struck me that the whole thing was a fake. I mean the telegram this morning." Bessiter rubbed a grimy hand across his mouth. “You ran a risk,” was his only comment. "Don’t you see that this fire was supposed to keep you out of the way?" Storm said quickly. "I’ll tell you when my brain stops working,” was the crushing retort. "I only wondered whether you thought I'd done the right thing." “It will do,” said Bessiter, moving away. Storm was left standing there for about twenty minutes, still hanging on to the important papers. Then Bessiter came to him again. “Come along. No good standing here gaping at the fire.” “It’s going to be difficult to get through the crowd,” Storm said. “We’re not going through the crowd.” Bessiter strode off in the opposite direction, Storm following him closely. They reached a nearby factory. The nightwatchman was at the door. "You can let me through your place," Bessiter said curtly. "Who are you?" the man demanded. Bessiter took a step forward. ‘You blazing idiot! Who do you think I am? Let me come through this building.” The man glared, seemed about to make some retort, and then thought better of it. They were permitted to go through the factory and out at the back. Bessiter pressed a coin into the man’s hand. “You deserve a thick ear. really." he said amiably, as the man muttered his thanks. “I’ve a hired car near." said Storm as they hurried along the street. “We’ll use it, then. I left mine at a garage, but it might as well stop there. I suppose you think I’m beaten?" Storm laughed. “Down and out," he commented. Bessiter clapped a grimy hand on his companion’s shoulder. "That's the stuff. This was Lovac's night—but it won’t come off properly. Have you got the plans with you still?" “Yes. I’ve been stuck to the things all day.” Bessiter chuckled, but made no comment. Regardless of a few curious glances, he hurried to the car and climbed in. "We’ll get hold of Manda Williams first," he told Storm, who passed the necessary directions to the driver. “Why do you want her?" “I don’t. But Lovac might. And I’d just hate to make things easy for that human serpent.” “I suppose there hasn't been any signi of Dickin all day?” I “Don’t ask fool questions! Do you think he'd come along to apologise for

double-crossing me? I hope that girl’s all right. I’ve been slow today, Storm. I was so keen on getting that monoplane ready for flight. I had it removed to Larkin’s place. He has a hangar and was going to get the machine assembled for me to make a test tomorrow. The wing construction is a modified form of what I intend to use for my stratoplane, and I’m anxious to know how it will work. You can go up as well." “Thanks. I’d like to.” “It isn’t what you like—it’s what’s wanted for your job.” Storm was silent. His mind had not been concentrating on what Bessiter was saying. He was thinking of Manda. Had she turned up at the railway station? Or had she decided to ignore Lovac’s instructions? He’d very soon know because the car was drawing up outside the flats where the girl lived. "Shall I get her?” Storm asked suddenly. "Right. Tell her to throw some things into a case, because she’s staying the night at my home.” "Very good.” i Storm raced up the stairs feeling thankful that Bessiter had elected ro remain behind in the car. It did make a short conversation possible. Manda opened the dooi’ at his second knock. “You!” “Yes. Who did you expect? Now listen for a minute. Bessiter is waiting outside in a car. He wants you to pack a few things and come along to his home for the night.” Manda frowned. “Why?” “Little girl,” said Storm, “there’s been a great deal of trouble. In fact, one might say that a private war has started. We still hold the plans of the stratoplane, and we know about the naughty Dickin —but our Essex Street factory has, quite literally, gone up in smoke. After taking you to a place of safety, I understand that we drive slowly past Lovac’s house and break all the windows —just to prove that he can’t get away with that sort of thing. Did you turn up at the station?” “I didn't.” Manda produced a small revolver. “I had this ready—just in case there were any objectionable callers.” “Thanks for the compliment. I seem to recall that you didn’t prod me in the tummy with it.” The girl coloured. “Don’t be absurd!” she exclaimed. Then came the sudden blare of a horn from the street. “Hurry up with that packing!” “I’m doing it as fast as I can,” called Manda, who had raced into a second room. “Don't come any nearer to the door or I might begin to feel embarrassed.” ■ “Don’t worry,” Storm assured her. “I'm a bad packer myself.” She laughed. At last she was ready. “Bessiter,” Storm warned her, “will have a few pungent remarks to make concerning the time it takes. . .” “I know! Don't rub it in. I shall expect you to defend me." The door of the car was open and Storm hurried in after the girl. He was in time to hear Bessiter say: “You needn't get it into your head that I’m keen on your company—it’s just that you’re too useful to let Lovac get hold of you. I could have been half way to Africa by the time you’ve packed a handbag.” “I pack very well.” “Maybe. You’ve a shiny nose if that’s anything." Storm chuckled as Manda made a dive for her pochette. The driver took a roundabout route in order to avoid the congested area. At last he pulled up outside Bessiter’s home. Storm paid him, adding a liberal tip. “Seems to me that there are the dickens of a lot of lights in the house," Bessiter grumbled. “I expect it’s been raided." Storm said. “Blockhead! Of course it's been raided! But why that drivelling idiot Andrews leaves all the lights on beats me. He knows I don’t like publicity. When I get hold of him I'll. . ." He left the threat unfinished. At .the porch Storm suddenly sniffed the air and laid a hand on Bessiter’s arm. “What?” “Wait! I can smell something.” Where had he smelt that foul reek before? It was like burning vegetation that was rotten. Then he remembered. “While I was waiting at the corner that night,” he said quickly, “a man passed smoking some terrible stuff. This reminds me of it.” Bessiter nodded his head slowly. “I see,” he whispered. He hesitated for about a second. Then he turned to Manda. “Get a good-sized stone,’ he directed. “Creep along to that far window and throw it in. 1 won't charge you for breakages.” “Isn’t it risky,” Storm demanded. Manda flashed a smile at him. “I’ve always wanted to smash a window,” she confided. . “That will attract their attention,” Bessiter explained. “The instant they hear that, we rush the house. I expect they’ve two men concealed just behind the door." Storm glanced in the direction taken by Manda. He saw her raise her arm. Instantly there followed the crash and tinkle of breaking glass. Bessiter rushed forward. Storm at his heels. There came a second crash. The door burst open. Bessiter, once in the hall, turned round and was in time to meet the charge of two men who leapt at him. Storm, coming up behind, tripped one of them so that he sprawled full length on the floor. Bessiter stepped forward and swung a pile-driver punch straight at the second man. It caught him squarely in the face and knocked him down the steps of the porch. “Sit on that one," Bessiter commanded and Storm promptly obeyed. Bessiter entered one of the rooms and there were further sounds of conflict. followed by a limp form being flung out into the hall, where it stayed crumpled up. Bessiter returned with a white-faced Andrews. | "Tied him up." he explained to I Storm. "The rope will be useful.” | (To be Continued.)