The Waterbury Democrat., 1942-03-26

Lordl I feel lower than the auto
 production curve when I think oi
 the knowing look on Allans face
 when he heard me out and then said, smiling thinly, Well sec"
 Allans story or not, there are
 those who think 1t should be told Kay not the least among them. Not that we have more to learn of whom our enemies are, but only that we have much yet to know of where they have been and of how they have been and of how they have been dealt with.
 shimmerlng heat waves almost hid the sandy road as Allan Steele in his travel-stained sedan, crested hill and came thankfully in sight of his Journeys end. At the foot of the slope, hardly c mile ahead nestled the small fishing village of San Saba, slumbering peacefully ia the torrid blaze of Q July sun. Be- yond the struggling houses, the blue-green waters of the Gulf of California made c cool and refresh- ing vista.
 Both hands gripped on the jerk ing wheel, tooling the sedan more ike Q man riding Q bucking bronco than driving c car, he worked hts way onward until what he believed the worst road in Lower California, If not in oil Mexico, blended imper- ceptibly with the main street of the town. The buildings on each side Of him were shuttered and no wise lble sign of life met his rowing gaze. He glanced ct his wrist watch; it marked the hour aS 2 o'clock.
 "sieSta," he murmured aloud. "Everybody'B asleep" ....
 Yet he questioned the notion even while voicing t. He had an un- easy feeling as he drove slowly through the village that eyes were peering ct him from behind the bolted doors and shielded windows. Hostile eyes, sinister, calculating .. |.
 He grinned half nockIngly ct the thought as 1t crossed his mind. He analysed 1t and traced 1t accurately to it's source. It obviously derived from the nature of the erTand which had brought him to this off-track corner of the world, where he was not only 6 stranger in Q strange land but very possibly an object of deep suspicion to certain dubious elements in the native population.
 Yes, that was the reason for his tineaBinesS, he decided; that, plus Q mild attack Of stage fright par- donable in an amateur. After oil, he reminded himself apologeticaliy, this was the first job of It's sort to which he had ever been assigned.
 He made no stop in the village, By cautious inquiries that morning he had ascertained the exact ioca- ton of the small hotel which was now his goal. Two miles south Of San Saba, the chancemet Yuma Ir- dian had told him, on the shore of the gulf; the senor Americana could not miss the road which led to the right where the main street of the village ended in Q pier.
 Allan found it. He turned the se- dan into 8 wagon track, q little if anything than the one he had followed all morning, whose tor- tuous course paralleled every iflden- tation of the coast line. He wished for the thousandth time that the Mexican government had extended It's network of fine roads to include his peninsula.
 The heat was something you had 70 feel to believe. He drove dog yedly for half e mile, climbing ar- other low rise of land. At its top he halted the car. in the welcome shade ,f an old gnarled pine which looked IS if 1t might have been there since he days of the Conquistadores. He vas glad of e chance to cool his mo- or, to rest his weary forearEns, and 70 smoke one of the American ci- | yarets with which he had prudent | ' stocked up before crossing the | ,order ct MexicaH.
 Meanwhile, he took advantage of | lis present elevation to study the | ay of the land spread cut before !