“STRATOSPHERE EXPRESS”

Wairarapa Times-Age, 18 April 1940, Page 10

“STRATOSPHERE EXPRESS”

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT. COPYRIGHT.

BY

ALROY WEST.

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

. CHAPTER XXVI. Dickin’s head flopped back. “Get her away," he said feebly. Bessiter had come nearer, his weapon still held menacingly. "What’s he saying?" he demanded. Storm straightened up. Dickin had given a little gasping sigh which seemed to catch somewhere in his throat. “There’s a pack of cut-throats bound for this place," Storm said quickly. “We’d better be going. Dickin warned me.” Fortunately, Bessiter was never one to waste valuable time. “I’ll hear about it later,” he said. “Take this gun.” He thrust it at Storm. “Rush your prisoner back to the stratoplane and tell Larkin to fasten the lot of them up in the rear cabin, and to collect everything that we’ll require for a flight to Spitzbergen.” “Right. I think Dickin is dead.” “I don’t care whether he is or not!" Bessiter snapped. He produced a revolver and raced towards the stationary aeroplane. “Move!” Storm commanded. The man limped in the required direction. Monk came racing up, rifle in hand. “What’s wrong?” he gasped. "We’re clearing out at top speed. It was Dickin in that plane. He warned me that Lovac is on the way with a pack of ruffians who will slit our throats.” “Strange that Diekin should warn us!” “He was dying. Bessiter shot him. He was afraid because of the girl.” Monk looked grim. ‘We’ll hustle,” he said. They soon had the prisoner at the stratoplane and herded him along with the others in the rear cabin. Larkin fastened the door on them. “That’s that,” he said grimly. Bessiter came running up. “I had a look at the aeroplane,” he announced. “There isn’t .enough petrol. We must take some of our spare cans.” Monk and Storm set to work on this job, while Bessiter and Larkin packed some food. Fargus assisted as well as he could, and Manda went to lend a hand with the petrol. “We're not running risks,” said Bessiter. “As soon as there is enough petrol in that machine, Fargus will move over to it with the girl. They're to take off the instant anything goes wrong. The filling of the great petrol tanks of the aeroplane was a lengthy business, for it entailed a quarter of a mile’s walk over comparatively soft snow, heavily laden with petrol cans. At last, though, it was completed. Bessiter came over, bringing some of the supplies. “Never know when we shall manage to make a landing,” he observed. “I’m not going to hash things for the sake of a few minutes.” He inspected the petrol gauge, and also the oil one and nodded his satisfaction. Climbing down he turned to Manda. “Inside with you!" he snapped. “You’re in the way.” “I’ve been helping,” she assured him. He scowled at her. “We can do without it!" he declared. Once she was in he turned to Larkin, who had arrived with further belongings. “You stay at the controls. If that crowd show up, start to get clear. Don’t bother about leaving us." “Right." said Larkin, clambering up. Bessiter then spoke to Storm. “Get that rifle next trip. I want you to mount guard. Keep your eyes skinned and open fire the instant you see anybody.” “Right!” Storm departed at the double. He was soon back at the machine, and commenced to patrol round it. He found it nerve-racking. At any moment one of the other planes might come into sight, or men might appear from behind any of the dozens of ice hummocks. He was not sorry when Fargus joined him. “I’ve only one arm that’s any use,” said the pilot with a grin, “but I always was a good shot with a revolver —whichever hand I hold it in!” “Glad to have somebody else. This sort of game makes me feel all jumpy." “I know. It’s like expecting an order to go over the top and not knowing what minute it’s going to come." “I wonder how long it will take them?" "No knowing. They're pretty certain to have dogs, so that they should be able to make good time. Pity we don’t know where the ship is." “Um. talking about ships, how do we get back home? I seem to remember that Spitzbergen is a fairish distance." Fargus grinned. "It is. But it's not too late in the year for its to be given a sea trip by one of the Norwegian ships. They come to King Bay. There's a coal company there." "That sounds hopeful. When is the last boat?” Fargus rubbed his chin. "Don't exactly know, Round about October, I think." Storm had another look round. “Still nothing doing. I wonder if we shall be able to manage it?" “Maybe. Here's Monk! He'll probably tell us something." Monk came up with his burden. "That's my last trip." he announced with satisfaction. "I've instructions from Bessiter." “What?" “To stay on guard with Storm. Fergus to climb up into the plane. Bessi- [ ter's coming now. I can just see him leaving the stratoplane.”

1 Fargus climbed up to join the others. Monk passed his baggage into the cabin. Fargus half-opened one of the windows and leaned out, his revolver held ready for action. Bessiter was taking a last look at his stratoplane. It had realised his ambitions, but the action of his enemies had robbed him of considerable triumph. Still, he reflected, with a shrug of his great shoulders, it was defeat. He moved forward to join the others. At this moment Fargus gave a cry of warning. A shot whistled across the ice and droned past Storm's head. Fargus at once returned the fire. The engines leapt info life. Bessiter started to run. “Fire from the cabin!" Storm snapped to Monk. Monk realised at. once that they couldn't have a congestion al the last minute. He hurried to obey, and within a few seconds his rifle was reply to fire of the enemy. Bessiter was nearer now, waving for them to take off. Some men broke from cover, trying to intercept the running figure. Storm fired quickly dropping two of them. Monk, opening the window further so that he could lean out, accounted for a third. The others wavered, and darted back to cover. Bessiter pushed to Storm's side. “In with you!" he gasped, out of breath with his running. Storm quickly climbed up. A bullet tore its way into the fuselage. Monk was returning the fire. Bessiter joined them. “What are you waiting for?” he shouted. The plane glided forward. Men came running 'out to stop it, but Storm and Monk kept up a relentless fire. It was hard to aim well from the moving machine, but the whine of the bullets reminded the attackers that was not a healthy place for them. One by one they dropped back. Larkin had the plane clear of the ground. The men were left behind — tiny dots on an immense white field. “Shut those windows,” Bessiter grumbled. “Want us to get frozen?” “I was hoping to get a pot at Lovac,” Storm declared. “I doubt if he’s with ’em. He planned things out very well—but they didn't come off. We have Fargus to thank for that.” “Reckon you’d have got clear some way or other,” said Fargus, looking rather uncomfortable. “What's the matter? Don't you like glory being showered on you?” Bessited demanded. He settled back and then grunted: “Reckon I would have got clear —-somehow.” . Larkin, at the controls, was silent. He was mourning the stratoplane which had been left behind them. There was pack ice beneath them after a time. Then the sea cleared a trifle, except for icebergs, which towered .like great ships. Nearer their destination were masses of calf ice from the glaciers. At last they sighted the three pyra-mid-like mountains at the harbour entrance. There was a ship in the bay. Bessiter looked down at it and gave a grunt of content. He turned to Storm. “Now that we've discovered whv Hodge wrecked the instruments and Croft threw the cylinders out, I suppose you think the whole thing's over?" he demanded. Storm grinned at him. “That's your department," he said. “Those two certainly worked well in with one another—both having the same idea.” “Yes.” Bessiter was thoughtful. "I'm sorry about Mackley," he said at length. “The Poles aren't my lucky spots. I lost another pilot once — "You told me," said Storm. “Eh? —Oh yes!" Bessiter's thoughts seemed to be wandering. Then his eyes flashed. “I suppose you think that I'm beaten?” Manda leaned forward, smiling. “Down and out!” she told him. “Girls never are much good at reckoning things out,” Bessiter grunted. The Nova carried them back to Europe. Their quarters were cramped and the ship could hardly be likened to a luxury liner of the modern style —but two of the party managed to enjoy themselves thoroughly. Fargus. Monk and Larkin, being men of tact, gave the couple a wide berth —but not so Bessiter. He blundered into them at odd times, always had something to say about the long voyage and the enforced idleness. He was not unlike a bear with a sore head. Even the fact that he had been the first man to fly in the stratosphere failed to console him. lie would spend hours in the lonely pari of the deck, staring Northwards —always Northwards. Bui Storm and Manda were too interested in each other to notice his plight. One evening he came upon them standing close together. And when he cleared his throat, they didn't move apart as they usually did. Storm turned to him and there was sufficient light for Bessiter to see that the young fellow was smiling. "Congratulate me!” Storm exclaimed. "We're going to be married.” "For a moment.. Bessited stared at thorn —then he shook his head. "You're noil" he snapped, with a return of his. old spirit. "I’ve something belter for your to do. Stop gaping at one anothI er and listen to me." And placing an arm about each of ' them, he drew them into a corner and | propounded his next adventure. . THE END.