Bill Barnes Air Adventurer, July 1935 — page 94: what you’re looking at

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

92 some of the other mail pilots did, they would have looted the air-mail ship at their leisure. With Nunn alone in con- trol of this big crate, if I’d jumped, they would have been in full possession of the air-mail ship and its cargo. “But | didn’t scare worth a hang, damn it! Instead I pulled the prize bonehead stunt of my short but thrilling existence and broadcast to Nunn my neat plan for wrecking his accomplice’s Diane | He shook his head sadly. “What a fine grease monkey I turned out to be; he sroaned ruetully. 1 wonder what he hit me with? My head feels like it got in the way of a four- bladed prop and every blade made con- tact. Whew! But I’ve got to get out of this mess or Kent Lambert’s sus- picions of me will be justified. He sure questioned me enough before he gave me the job of flying this night run. But judging from the results [ don’t blame him !” He strained suddenly against the cords that bound his hands and feet. Beads of sweat bloomed on his brow; the thongs cut into his wrists; his face purpled with his effort to sunder the bonds. In vain; they held like steel traps. He stopped, exhausted, teeth clenched bitterly. Not a chance to break loose, he decided. “T wonder if they frisked me?” he muttered. “They took my parachute away. Let’s see.” “With his bound wrists together he probed his pockets. His automatic was gone from his side pocket; keys and a =kmife were missing from his hip pocket. Then he felt in- side his leather flying coat, near the waistline, where there was a_ hidden pocket. His heart sang with hope as his probing fingers discovered the out- lines of a tiny pair of pliers. “Right where I always carry that emergency repair tool!’’ he gloated ex- “dollars!” BILL BARNES ultantly, his fingers worrying at the inside flap of the hidden pocket. Abruptly he froze, then straightened his arms and watched the slowly opening cabin door of the air-mail ship. Nunn stood framed in the doorway, sardonically grinning down at the help- less pilot. Still rubbing the sleep from his sly, foxlike eyes, Nunn dropped to the ground and sauntered toward Skip. “Well,” he purred, “how do you feel after stopping a gun butt? Did you sleep well?” “Woere, skip tasped, Indine the black rage in his heart, “are we? What happened °” Nunn’s wolfish lips curled in a sneer. “T thought you told Lambert you knew every acre in California when you got the job as chief pilot on this night- mail flight?’ he taunted venomously. “You lied, didn’t you? I can’t figure, why Lambert put you on. You’ve got a drag with the big shot of the company, IT guess. Well, it won't do you much good now. You're through flying for a while. We’re near Tuolumne Meadows, not far from the Yosemite Valley. I landed the ship here last night after rocking you to sleep with a gun butt. In half an hour we’re hopping off for Tiajuana. And you're taking the ride with us. If it’s any news to you, there’s half a million dollars in currency in those four sacks of registered air mail!” Skip’s brain reeled. “Half a million THE WORDS escaped him involun- tarily. In spite of himself he was jolted. He-had known that the ship carried currency ; Lambert had hinted as much when signing him on as pilot, and Skip had prepared for that eventuality. But he hadn’t expected anything like this. Half a million dollars! What a haul for the air bandits! Skip’s mind reviewed the disaster that had overwhelmed him. How had the air bandits learned of this huge shipment of currency? Nunn? oO COMmicloo S CO