Adventure, July 1, 1928 — page 41: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE DUKE AND THE DUCATS 35 ever, as his eyes swept the shadowed earth. For Verona, a white city under the moon, seemed to be burning up. There were three fires on the main street, and in the light of the flames the swarming mobs were like frightened ants scurrying around a ruined ant hill. “In wrecking the joints they started some fires,” Daly thought. The field itself was a sight to strike the observer with awe. Derrick lights winked and boiler mouths shone red, and on the derrick floors men were toiling. Vehicles crawled over the roads with gleaming eyes as the work of the field went on. It was all part of the nightmare to Daly. His only hope was a negative one —to save MacDowell. For himself, there was none. Once again his life, built on a rotten foundation, was about to crumble. That mask of a face was drawn as he bent over his key, and his eyes were like windows showing the suffering within. He concentrated fiercely on his work. He could not hear his own signals, of course, above the bellow of the Liberty as he sent out the Laredo call a dozen times. Then he went to work, sending his message slowly as the DH roared along, a thousand feet high, toward the iver. Daly. In air above Verona. MacDowell kidnaped by bandits one hour ago. Must be near river. Send two ships down river to help me. Send others to Verona. Situation very bad. Get Henry Ivers, Derringer and Conklin. Notify Rangers, sheriff and so forth. He could waste no more time on send- ing. They would have the message; the radio shack was open night and day. He looked down. He was over Mexico, the Rio Grande a mile north of him. . As he banked around he made quick calculations while his eyes swept the sky for signs of an airplane. That civilian plane might not heed his warning. If it had guns it might be sent out to get him. That would leave matters in excellent shape for Ivers and Derringer—and a burned ship and a few bones tell no tales of murder. The bandits probably had not ridden very fast. Fifteen miles, and only an hour had passed. They should be near the river. They were! At least, there was a group of horsemen, riding like mad, two miles east of the little settlements on the river bank. “They aren’t feeling as good as their captive right now,” Daly thought grimly. “Now what shall I do? With Tex in the middle of ’em I can’t shoot so well.” E WAS circling over them. They were a mile from the river, riding through the mesquite. There was a strip of clearings, a half mile wide, along the northern bank of the Rio Grande. They’d have to come out in the open soon. ; He turned south, a mile back of them and fifteen hundred feet high. He took a quick look at his instruments. All was well on those gages, from oil pressure to battery charging rate. The _ twelve cylinder Liberty was bellowing along evenly, and he tried the switches absently as he strove to form a plan. He could just follow them, spotting their location, but a couple of sparkplugs, fouled with oil, would mean the ruin of all his plans. He dared not trust MacDowell’s life to that motor. A man of one idea, he was so utterly engrossed in his thoughts that when the windshield shattered before his eyes he looked at it, for the moment, in dull wonder. Then his head snapped around, and he sent the De Haviland into a dizzy vertical bank which seemed to almost break it in two. Behind him, four hundred feet higher than he, was the civilian ship. In the back seat a man was standing, hand- ling a machine gun which was mounted there. That ship had taken off, sneaked north, probably, to gain altitude, got higher than he was, and swooped down out of the night sky. And he was still in the back seat. His gun control was in the front cockpit. He cursed with cold venom as he twisted comicloooks.com