The only way to go was
straight ahead, across the open airport. He would be seen instantly when
his pursuers emerged from the grove, and from then on it would be a foot
race. There was nothing else to do but go on. He climbed over the
airport fence and started for the lights of the administration building
a mile away.

To conserve his strength and wind he kept his pace to a dogtrot. He
crossed one paved strip and cast a look behind in time to see the
pursuers climb the fence. A yell told him he had been seen. He started
to zigzag, anticipating a bullet. His spine tingled and there was a
crawling sensation between his shoulder blades. But when the shot did
come it was such a wide miss that he did not even give an instinctive
duck.

Somewhere down the line a big plane was getting ready to take off, the
pilot was checking his magnetos, revving up his engines. He searched for
lights as he ran and saw them over a mile down the field. It was a
Strato-cruiser, probably bound for America. Then he saw the runway ahead
and realized that it would be a race to see whether or not he got across
before the plane reached that point. The lights told him that the plane
was already moving. He lengthened his stride.

He had a choice. He could stop and wait until the big plane passed, or
he could run for it and hope to beat it. If he stopped, it would give
his pursuers a chance to catch up.

He ran faster, still breathing easily. But there were signs that his
wind was giving out. He cast anxious glances down the field. The big
plane was rolling, its engines roaring. He tried to gauge the point
where it would be air-borne, but it was too hard. It should be in the
air by the time it reached him, but he couldn't be sure. The runway was
only yards ahead now. He sprinted.

The plane roared down at him. Then he was on the runway, realizing that
he would not be across in time. In sudden terror he threw himself flat,
just as the big plane lifted. The wheels were only a few feet above him
as it passed over.

Then he was on his feet, running again, weak from the certainty of a
moment ago that he was done for. But the administration building was
only a short distance away now, and he found the strength to keep going.
He ran past astonished airport personnel, made his way through the crowd
that had come to see the flight off, and leaped into a taxi just ahead
of the Filipino gentleman who was about to enter.

"Get going!" he panted. "Hurry!" T