“STRATOSPHERE EXPRESS”

Wairarapa Times-Age, 9 April 1940, Page 10

“STRATOSPHERE EXPRESS”

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT. COPYRIGHT.

BY

ALROY WEST.

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

CHAPTER XX Continues. This was quickly decided, for he suddenly caught a glimpse of a second craft. It seemed to be gaining slightly—although the distance between the two was considerable. Again Bessiter gave orders, for the plane swooped down like a bird. It came dangerously low, so low that the man in the launch immediately below them, ducked his head in sudden fear. Storm, clutching his glasses, managed to get a glimpse of the man’s face. It was Purcelow right enough. He turned to Bessiter and nodded his head. Bessiter gave an ugly grin and once more spoke to Mackley. They zoomed up, banked for a turn, and then came sweeping down once more right across the bows of the quickly moving launch. Purcelow, straightening up. moved his arm vigorously—obviously in a signal for them to keep away. With a powedful roar of the engines they went into another climb, swiftlj circled and shot down again. Puicelow, evidently aware that the plane contained an enemy, swung the wheel over and the launch glided in a graceful half circle, the wake reminding Storm of a quickly-moving snake. Mackley was. for the moment, outmanoeuvred; he swung the plane up and banked in another lightning turn. It seemed to Storm that they would be flung out into the sea, which suddenly appeared to become a monstrous wall ranged alongside them. But it dropped back Co its proper place below them and there was the launch, just a shade ahead of them and going off into another curve. The second launch was in sight too. Bessiter leaned forward and spoke into the telephone which communicated with Mackley. Up again! Then came the inevitable bank. Storm waited for the plunge downwards, but it didn't come. He used the glasses again. The two launches were near to one another. In the distance was the Olenek. smoke pouring from her funnels. It looked to Storm as though the skipper had decided to move off while the going was good. But what was happening below? There was a tiny puff of smoke from the second launch. Storm, quickly shifting his position so that he could train the glasses on Purcelow, realised that that person was bending low. Again there came the puff from the pursuing launch.

Why was Van Loon firing? It was madness —especially when there was a plane hovering above. Perhaps the Dutchman had lost his head. Purcelow, by the looks of it, was not armed. Now what was the game? • Purcelow had swung his launch round and was cutting through the water back towards the shore. Van Loon fired again, but Purcelow had more protection now. x Bessiter gripped Storm’s arm. The plane swooped lower. What followed was a matter of seconds. but to Storm it seemed that it was done slowly, like something shown on the films by slow-motion camera. It was as though the machine they were in was suspended for a few minutes about fifty feet above the waler in order that they might watch the drama taking place beneath them. Van Loon, in the second launch stooped down. Purcelow, at the wheel was grimly rigid. His intention suddenly became obvious. He was gating every ounce of power from ms launch, and the knife-like bow was pointed straight at the Dutchman’s craft. Van Loon realised his danger too late. He tried to swing the wheel over, but he could not get clear. He flung something at the oncominglaunch and dived overboard. There were two crashes in quick succession. The first was caused by the small bomb Van Loon flung, which exploded right against the wheel, Purcelowe. was blown backwards. Immediately after came the impact. There was a burst of steam, then a further explosion. For a moment things were blotted out. Mackley was taking them clear and then turning to make it possible for them to come down. They caught a glimpse, next minute, of a dark head bobbing up and down in a deep trough between two waves. Then the trough turned to a mountain of water, and the head was concealed by foam, only to bob up again as the great wave swept onwards. Mackley brought their machine down in a perfect descent, landing neatly on the crest of a wave. Storm turned round to look at the wreckage in the hope of seeing what had happened to Pureelowe. One launch had already sunk, whilst the water was littered with fragments. The second was tilting dangerously, evidently holed below the waterline. But there was no sign of a human being. Van Loon had disappeared, too. Bessitcr was peering over the other side. After a few seconds he turned and shook his head. Either the Dutchman was no swimmer, or he had been hurt by a fragment of flying wreckage. Bessiter signalled for Mackley to take oil’ again. This was tricky business in a comparatively rough sea. Mackley waited for a gentler wave, and instantly opened the throttle. A second or so later the machine was rocking and bumping on the wave crests. Mackley had timed things well. Storm glanced out al sea. The Olcnek was almost I,nil down in the distance. Evidently her skipper had tired ! of English waters. * P.e--=il<r raw it 100. and grinned at

Storm. Then he busied himself with the radio. After a time he sat back and appeared to take no further interest in the homeward flight. He was fully alert, though, when Mackley brought the amphibian down on Larkin's airfield. Storm climbed out, and was thankful to stretch his limbs. Bessiter quickly joined him. “Manelli has a very pretty sense of humour," he announced. “It seeims that he got word to Van Loon that there was a friendly airman in the vicinity. Naturally, when the Dutchman saw us trying to compel Purcelowe to turn back, he assumed that it was perfectly safe to open fire." “And I suppose Purcelowe, thinking that we were in league with the second launch, pecame desperate and tried to smash it up,” Storm, added. “Exactly.” Bessiter turned to Mackley. “Good work," he said curtly. “Better get some rest. "I’ll soon T>e wanting you again.” Mackley smiled. “That suits me,” he declared. Bessiter grabbed Storm by the arm. "I want you with me,” he said. Storm was looking about him. "There wasn't a chance of saying anything before, but that’s a new hangar. isn’t it?" He pointed to a now corrugatedmetal structure which spread all along one side of the field. It was an enormous building, capable of housing a small airship. "What’s it look like? I’ve had every available man on that job. But that’s nothing to what’s to come. Just wait." Storm know that it was not tactful to press for information, so he contented himself with nodding his head. He was glad of a snack and a smoke. Besiter, a thick, sandwich in his hand, paced about the room, talking all the time. “I wonder why Lovac has gone to America?” Storm said once. "Best place for him,” Bessiter growled. "It would have been a good place for me to have constructed my stratoplane—but for one thing.”

“What was that?’ 'They don't encourage an honest industry—would be setting a precedent," Bessiter snapped. "Hard on them, aren't you?” "Know them —that’s why." Bessiter swung round. .“I tell you, I’ve met the whole bunch. Senators, Supreme Court judges, district attorneys, governors, oil magnates, industrial kings everybody. And I only came across one American who wouldn’t have sold his own mother providing a good price was offered.” "Who was he?” “A gangster,” Bessiter growled. “You must have suffered from, a liver when you were there.” “Ever likely to! They don’t eat civilised food—and what they do eat they have uncivilised names for. Most of it’s in tins —only they call ’em cans! Who heard of a can of sardines?” Storm lit a cigarette. Bessiter gulped down the rest of the sandwich'and glanced at his watch. "About time," he muttered with obvious satisfaction. “Come on! Don't get dreaming about some girl or other! I'm going to show you something worth staring at! Snap into it!” Storm followed him to the door of the room. “Watch the road," Bessiter commanded. Sure enough, the road was worth watching. First a car came into sight. There were about six men in it. After it came a great lorry, and another, and another. “It’s like being behind the lines in a war," Bessiter said happily. 'Look at ’em rolling up. Mino Every one of them!" "What are they coming for?” Bessiter glared at him. “What do you think, numbskull? Its’ the stratoplane coming. No more secrecy, Storm. It’s a mere matter of of assembling the portions. Come nearer to me. I’ll tell you .what those lorries contain. The first one has two of the engines, completely assembled with the exception of the air screws. The second lorry has the two remaining engines. Then there’s a small car. Larkin is in that, with two of my men as guards. I'm not running risks, Storm. The next lorry, that giant thing, has a portion of the fuselage, the rear portion with the special tubes for discharging tne gas cylinders. After that comes the second portion of the fuselage. The next lorry has the remaining part. The one after that has one of the specially-constructed wings. The next contains the other wing. There's another car with more of my workers. Then there is a lorry with the great floats and the immense landing carriage. The lorry behind that is bringing the gas cylinders. They're a special design. Storm, that's why I was so troubled when one was taken. There's another car with men who have worked in the secret factory. Teh next lorry contains certain instruments. and some fittings for the interior. It is followed by two more, similarly filled. There are workmen on the last lorry. "That's not all. Storm. There are still things at the works. But I'm not working under the ground any longer. I’ve come out. into the open. Come out in a great procession of thirteen lorries, and about half a dozen small ears! It's big. Storm, that's what I like about it. I'm having a guard of thirty men at this place. Whatever time you come, you'll find thirty senI tries. Ninety men are doing it in | shifts. That field over there" —he flung I out his arm —"will be covered with I tents before the day's out. It's all ready, fenced off from the road With barbed wire. I'm doing things in style.

Storm." “It certainly looks good," Storm admitted. “Of course, it looks good! What else do you expect? I’m running it! That ought to be .enough. I’ll make the name of Bessiter be on the tongue of every man, woman and child in twothirds of the world!” The first of the lorries turned in and came to a standstill at the entrance to the hangar. Bessiter turned to Storm. “I don’t want you now," he declared. “You can go back to the house. I’ll be along later.” “Sure I can’t help?" “Certain! You don’t know how to fly a plane, let alone build one. And this one is going to be put together in mighty quick time let me tell you. I’m making that fight within a few weeks." So Storm went back to Bessiter’s home to tell Manda of how the death of her brother had been avenged.. He was not surprised when Bessiter failed to turn up. Day after day went past. Once he saw a jubilant Manelli and had a short talk with him. and once he saw Larkin for a second or so. But there was no sign of Bessiter, although his name was before Storm and Manda in every newspaper they picked up. “I’m almost afraid of it," Manda said once. “Why?” “Things are sweeping forward so quickly. It’s like sending a challenge to all the old gods in whom we still half-believe. It’s daring too much!" Storm smiled. “That feeling will pass," he told her. “I expect that actual Hight will be, if anything, almost boring. Wo shall just sit about and let somebody else do all the work. And Bessiter will swear at us about once and then forget wo ever existed. "Feeling upset at being; left out of things?" "1 think ho might have given me a job.” 1 (To be Continued'