quick emotions took hold of him.

"Quiet!" said Chet. "Wait till they pass!"

The newcomers stopped for no more than a glance. Then:

"I'm demoted," Chet told the round-eyed man who stared unbelievingly at
the vacant place on Chet's blouse. "The air's hot with orders for my
arrest. I've got to get out, and I've got to do it quick."

And now there was only a trace of the brogue in Spud's voice. Chet knew
the trick of the man's speech; touch his heart and his tongue would grow
thick; place him face to face with an emergency and he would go cold and
hard, while the good-natured phrasing of his native sod went from him
and he talked fast and straight.

"The devil you say!" exclaimed Spud. "What you've done I don't know, nor
yet why you did it. But, whatever it was, I don't believe you let that
triple star go for less than a damned good reason. Now, let me think;
let--me--think--"

A figure in gray and gold was approaching, a member of the Air Patrol.
Spud's tongue was lively with good-natured raillery as he fell into step
and drew the officer with him through the pilots' gate, while Chet, from
his shadow, saw with satisfaction the apparent desertion. He had known
Spud O'Malley of old. Spud was square--and Spud had wanted time for
thinking.

There were many who passed Chet's hiding place before a cautious whisper
came to him and he saw a hand that thrust a roll of clothing around the
edge of the bulletin board.

"Put 'em on!" was the order of Spud. "And smear your yellah hair with
the grease! Work fast, me bhoy!"

* * * * *

The command was no less imperative for being spoken beneath Spud's
breath, and for the first time Chet's hopes soared high within him. It
had all been so hopeless, the prospect of actual escape from the net
that was closing about him. And now--!

He unrolled the tight package of cloth to find a small can of black
graphite lubricant done up in a jacket and blouse. Both were stained and
smeared with grease; they were amply large. Chet did not bother to strip
off his own blouse; he pulled on the other clothes over his own, and his
face was alight with a grin of appreciation of Spud's attention to
details as he took a daub of the grease, rubbed it on his hands, then
passed them through his hair.

"Yellah," Spud had said, but the description was no longer apt. And the
man who stepped forth beside Spud O'Malley in the uniform of an engineer
of a tramp freighter loo