Adventure Magazine Cover — page 172: what you’re looking at

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

166 missing motor, and the other one walk around and find out as much as possible about the guard system. We’ve got to be planning how we are going to get out of here. If you can do it without suspicion, you- might see what they have along that lane there.” aE GRAVES started for the cabin as a J&8% he finished speaking. strolled carelessly over toward the lane which led away from the cabin into the woods. Broughton climbed up on the motor with a wrench in his hand and com- menced tinkering with the valves. The cabin door was open, and Graves could hear a conversation in which many low-pitched voices took part. He walked in calmly. All conversation ceased as he entered. “Could we borrow a pail of some kind and get some drinking water?” he asked, taking in his surroundings with a single lightning-like look around. There were eight bunks, built double- decker, against the four walls of the cabin. Each was occupied now by a cigaret-smok- ing man. Hayden stood in a doorway which apparently led into a small lean-to at the rear. Somers was sitting on a rude stool. There was one small table, littered with candle grease and cigaret butts. There was only one window, close to the ceiling. A sort of half-darkness made it difficult to make out the features of the men lying on the bunks. He waited fully a half minute before receiving an answer. Then the fat man got to his feet. “T’ll get you one,” he said. He had darted a quick look at Hayden, Graves noticed, before saying anything. He saw nothing but suspicion in the faces of the men about him. He surmised that few of them lived there, but were there for a meeting with their chief. Perhaps that might account for their attitude of extreme suspicion, which did not seem justified under the circumstances. Then there was always the possibility that some one of them might know him. “How long do you think it will be before you get the plane out, Colonel?” It was Hayden’s deep, rich voice. “Several days, I imagine,” returned Graves, watching his man narrowly. “T should think that unless your head- Hinkley Adventure ”? quarters were notified where you were It was a half question. “We will wire from Elm Hill tomorrow. If we do not, they will have forty planes out looking for us,” Graves explained. He caught several meaning looks passing between various of the men at his last statement. “T should think it would be a very difficult job to locate a plane that was really wrecked in these hills. Of course in your case you’re in a Clearing.and it would be easy.” Hayden’s voice was smooth and his words almost pleasant, but there was nothing in his eyes now to give the lie to his face. He was the personification of power and ruth- lessness. Graves’ sixth sense, developed by years of contact with the world of crime and intrigue, warned him now. His mind probed behind Hayden’s apparently casual words, and what the government man thought he found made him look at Hayden with new amazement. He thought back over the things he knew of the man before him. For years he had been a thorn in the side of enforcers of the law all over Europe and America. A dozen times big coups—jewel robberies, bank robberies, huge swindling schemes—had been laid at his door, but never yet had he been caught dead to rights because of his genius for organization and leadership. There was a South American revolution which star chamber gossip of the secret service said that Hayden had con- ceived, promoted, and finally cleared a hun- dred thousand dollars on. When supposedly he had left the country, police and secret service alike had drawn long breaths of relief. There was bigness and sweep about Hayden, and Graves knew that what he suspected of the man’s plans concerning himself and the two flyers was by no means too audacious for Hayden to contemplate. He would order it with no compunction, and it would be a mere trifle for those men lying around the room to execute. These thoughts raced through his head as he relighted his cigar. ‘Traveling by plane is queer business,” he remarked casually as he threw the match out the door. ‘‘We often have trouble with people, strange as it may seem. Moon- shiners through this state, Tennessee and Kentucky always think we’re after them if we have a forced landing anywhere near by. COMMICLOOOKS (F@)