The states-graphic. (Brownsville, Tenn.) 1???-1984, 1916-07-14

inability to trump up any sane excuse
for such conduct: but the riddle con.
tinued to fret his mind.
From the first. from that moment
when Lucy's disappearance had re-
CURED postponement OF this fight. he
mad apprehended trouble: 1t hadn't
seemed reasonable to hope that the
Parrott could De neld in waiting On his
orders tor msny days without the Sc
cret leaking out; out II was trouble to
develop before the start from Port
Aviation that he had anticipated. The
possibility that the Pack would be able
TO work any mischief to him after that
had never entered his calculations.
Even now he found 1t difficult to give
II serious consideration.
Again he glanced back. Now. in
his judgment, the monoplane doomed
larger than before against the glow
ing sky, indicating that it was over
taking them.
Beneath his breath Lanyard swore
from heart trimming with disquiet.
The PARROT was capable of speed
OF eighty miles an hour; and unques-
tionably Vauquelin was wheedling
every ounce of power out Of that will
ing motor. Since drawing Lanyard's
attention to the pursuer he had con-
trived an appreciate acceleration.
But would even that pace serve to
hold the yalkyr in its place, If not to
distance it?
His next backward look reckoned
the monoplane no nearer.
And another thirty minutes or so
elapsed without the relative positions
Of the two flying machines undergoing
any perceptible change.
In the course of this period the Par
rott rose to an altitude, indicated by
the Paragraph at Lanyard's elbow, of
over half a mile. Below the channel
fog spread itself out like sea Of
milk, slowly churning.
Staring down in fascination, Ian
yard told himself gravely:
/ "Blue water below that, my friend!"
1t seemed difficult to credit the fact
that they had covered the distance
from Paris in so short period of
time.
By his reckoning-a very crude one
the PARROT was then somewhere off
Dieppe-it ought to pick up England,
in such case, not far from Brighton. If
one could only see
BY bending forward little and star
ing past the aviator Lanyard could
catch glimpse Of Lucy Shannon.
Though all her beauty and grace Of
person were lost in the clumsy swad-
dlings of her makeshift costume, she
seemed to be resting comfortably in
her place; and the rushing air, keen
with the chill Of that great altitude,
not only nodded her wind-veil precise
ly to the exquisite contours of her face,
but stung her firm cheeks until they
glowed with a rare fire that even that
thick, dark mesh enshrouding them
could not wholly quench.
The sun crept above the floor Of
mist, played upon 1t With iridescent
rays, shot it through and through with
warm, pulsating glow like that of a
,ire-opal, and suddenly turned 1t to a
esa of fairy gold that, extending to the
htizon, bafiled every effort 10 surmise
Akss-.. sessties ley were
above land or sea.
None the less, Lanyard's rough and
rapid calculations persuaded him that
they we're then about mid-channel.
u He had no more than arrived at this
conclusion when a sharp, startled
movement that rocked the plane drew
his attention to the man at his side.
CHANGING in alarm at the aviators
face, he saw that it was as white as
marble-what little of it was visible
beyond and beneath the wind-mask.
Vauquelin was holding out an arm
and staring at il incredulously; Lam
yards gaze focused upon the same
spot--a ragged perforation in the
sleeve of the leather surtout, Just
above the elbow.
What is it?" he inquired stupidity,
forgetting again that the other could
not possibly hear him.
The eyes of the aviator, lifting from
the perforation to meet Lanyard 8
stare, we're clouded with consterna-
ton.
Then VauQuelin swerved quickly in
his seat and looked back. Involuntar-
lily he ducked his head. Simultaneous
ly something slipped whining past
Lanyard's cheek, touching his flesh
with a touch more chill than that of
the icy air itself
"Damnation!" he shrieked, almost
Historically. THAT mailman In the
Valkyr is firing at us!"
CHAPTER XXI.
WV
The Flying Death.
Steadying himself with a splendid