Alma record. (Alma, Mich.) 1878-1928, 1921-05-19
The Flyers
Trophy
BY HAROLD SINCLAIR
o. isal. western Newspaper UAlon.1

man.
shes got TO. | promised her.
wrote her all about IL. and you. 80
brace up. old man. Take your pick.
The long stlck-sOuth. The short
stick-east. Choose"
IL was an impressive scene and an
unusual one. Upon broad plateau
Ia the heart of the North Carolina
mountains rested the mon0plane Vie
tor. The two expert birdmon had
Just carried off the hOnors In an aero
meet at Savannah. They designed
trip 10 the home OF Nelson Barton,
In Delaware. where his father and his
sister awaited them. Now. i'm flight
over desOlate. we'll nigh uninhabited
country, the Juice" had given out and
the Victor was stalled Gasoline
must be found or the machine ahan-
doned.
Barton hid all but the ends of two
twigs in his hand. Moore drew the
long one-south. Barton started east
with the laughing boast that he would
be back first with the ncedful fuel for
the engine.
Ii was nightfall when Barton toiled
slowly down a winding valley-lo>t.
This is getting pretty desperate
decided Barton. "Ah, at last-a light
Suddenly loud shouts and then shots
In the distance attracted his attention
Following the same great lurid glow
sprang up across the eastern horizon.
"A fire." exclaimed Barton, and he
started toward II. \ terrific hubbub
increased as he advanced.
woman, clasping a little babe close
to her breast. and holding her by the
hand dragged little girl Sobbing pitt
fully with fright and WEAKNESS
MY good woman spoke Barton,
"what is the trouble?"
"Oh. sir. we are lost. The DOllvars
are making a raid. They have burned
our houses"
Barton got the three refugees into
n copse and saw a party of dozen
rough men armed and carrying torch
es pass tlpm by. Then there were
more shots and shouts and a new
lurid glare crossed the sky.
ut is our home" mourned the wom-
an. "Oh. sir, help us.
"AIy husband and his band are in
refuge camp twenty miles south OF
here" explained the woman.
The woman carrying the babe and
leadingthe way, Barton with the little
girl in his arms, they started on a
forlornt tramp.
1--WE sare almost there" announced
the woman nearly four hours later "a
they started down tortuous gap in
the mdnntains. "There is the glow Of
their camp fire. oh, am so glad, so
thankful to you" And then with the
words 3she sank TO the grass aud
swooned dead away.
Twenty steps brought the aviator III
full view of the outlaw camp. \ vivid
pictureAhalted, appalled, him. a group
of men we're gathered near a camp
fire, and over a branch of a great tree
close at hand ran rope. One end
encircled the neck of a man with
arms and feet tightly bound.
"why! Why! yWhy." shouted out
Nelson Barton in three tones of rising
horror, at is my friend, my partner
Elwyn Moore! Stop! Stop" he
screamed. rushing forward and way
ing his arms wildly.
Half dozen rifles covered him.
"what's thisY" fiercely challenged
the outlaw chief.
"This is my friend" proceeded Bar
ton pointing to Moore.
ooh, maybe you're another detec-
tive. eh?" demanded the outlaw.
detective? Why, we are airmen."
Suddenly the outlaw turned. The
little girl had followed Barton.
"Mary, little Mary" gasped the
outlaw. "How did you come here?"
81 brought her" said Barton quick
ly; "your wife and baby, too. They
are back near the spring. The DOLL
vars have raided your homes, and"
A cry of rage went up from the
rough crowd. The strangers were for
q moment forgotten.
The outlaw chieftain came back to
the camp fire with tears in his eyes.
and gentle as lamb. Instantly
Moore was released. He overwhelmed
Barton with thanks. He learned the
real mission OF the avlators In that
forbidden district.
.Four of you," he shouted TO his
men, get to Shelbyville as fast as you
can, and bring back fifty gallons of
gasoline"
"Ask him TO give me my trophy"
whispered Moore to his friend.
"Your trophyT
"Yes. It's been a target fastened to
that tree yonder."
The trophy. plus one. deep bullet
dent. was returned TO its owner with
apologies.
The airship made a brilliant non
stop flight, almost beating the record.
A guest at the Barton home, Elwyn
Moore had the coveted chance 10 pre-
sent himself and his trophy to pretty
Mabel Barton.
She admired il, and its owner as
well. The result was natural. The
trouhv became a family heirloom. II