d over western Iowa.

Jane went ahead to the pilots' cockpit and leaned close to Charlie
Fischer.

"The airplane bandits are still at large," she told him.

"I know it," he said. "We got a special warning at Omaha. A strange
ship was sighted over the Des Moines field half an hour ago and it
answered the description of the bandit craft. Two army planes that were
making an overnight stop at Fort Des Moines have gone up to see if they
can trace it."

"Keep a close watch. I've got nearly a billion-dollar piece of humanity
in the cabin."

"Orders are to land if we run into trouble."

"But that would mean the capture and holding of Mrs. Van Verity Vanness
for ransom," protested Jane.

"That's better than having us all shot down," snapped Charlie. "You
just mind things in the cabin and I'll run this end of the ship."

"Well," said Jane with finality. "If I were a pilot and a bandit plane
attacked me, I'd give them a real race before I landed."

Charlie started to reply but the co-pilot grabbed his arm and pointed
over to the right. The lights of a plane, coming rapidly toward them,
were plainly visible.

Charlie looked at them for a second and then snapped off the wing
lights of his own plane. "Get back into the cabin and turn off the
lights there," he roared at Jane. "Here comes trouble."

"How do you know?" asked Jane.

"There's no other ship but our own on this division tonight and those
lights coming toward us aren't the riding lights on a night hawk."

Jane departed on the run, and snapped off the light in the cabin. It
would be dawn in another half hour, but for the coming thirty minutes
the tri-motor, running without lights, had a chance of escaping the
other plane.

The motors labored under a full charge of gas as the big ship rocketed
along at 170 miles an hour. Once or twice the needle on the speed dial
mounted above the 170 mark, but Charlie couldn't hold it there.

Jane watched the lights of the other plane. They didn't appear to be
any nearer. Perhaps the bandits, after spotting their quarry, would be
content to wait until dawn and then make a quick thrust.

The stewardess wondered if the pursuing plane was radio equipped for
even as she left the pilots' cockpit, the co-pilot had been pouring out
a warning of their danger.

It was nerve-racking business as Charlie Fischer piloted the tri-motor
with all of the skill of his big hands. In and out of clouds they
dodged, now at 8,000 feet, and aga