our
backs in half a second. And they'd knock me out with one shot the minute
I stepped outside."

The clear space in the storm had filled again with the dirty gray of
wind-whipped snow; off at the right a dim glow of distant fires was the
midnight sun as it shone for a brief moment. One blast, more malignant
in its fury than those that had come before, tore first at the blunt
bow, then caught them amidships to roll the big, sluggish freighter till
her racked framework shrieked and chattered.

Spud pointed through a rear lookout where a silvery Patrol Ship flashed
down through the clouds. "There's Jimmy!" he shouted. "He's takin' no
chances of our landing--he's right on our tail!"

* * * * *

But Chet Bullard, his hands working at the control levers, was staring
straight ahead into that gray blast; and his eyes were shining as he
pulled back on a lever that threw them once more into the concealment of
the whirling clouds above.

"Spud," he was shouting, "have you got a 'chute? You freighters have 'em
sometimes. Get me a 'chute and I'll fool them yet! I saw the shed--our
hangars--our work shop! There's where our ship is!"

They were lost once more in the snow that seemed to be driving past in
solid drifts. Chet heard Spud shouting down a voice tube. And,
curiously, it was plain that the Irish pilot had lost all tenseness from
his voice; he was happy and as carefree as if he had found the answer
to all his perplexing questions. He was calling an order to his relief
pilot.

"Mac--do ye break out two parachutes, me lad! Bring 'em up here, and
shake a leg! No, there's nothin' to worry about--divil a thing!"

Then, into the transmitter, he shouted thickly as he switched the
instrument on:

"Jimmy, me bhoy, kape away! Kape away, I'm tellin' you, or ye'll have me
Irish temper disturbed, and I'm a divil whin I'm roused! What do I know
about your twin ingineers? Wan of thim makes trouble enough for me! Now
take yourself away, and don't step on the tail of this ship or we'll go
down to glory together!--unless we go to another terminal and find
oursilves in hell, and us all covered wid snow. Think how divilish
conspicuous you'd be feelin'--"

* * * * *

A discord of voices silenced his laughing banter; on the instrument
board the warning light was flashing imperatively. Above the bedlam of
voices one stood out, and all other commands went silent before the