Argosy All-Story Weekly, November 12, 1927 — page 47: what you’re looking at

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

KERRY OF THE it this way——well, she wouldn’t be disobey- ing you. She thought you had had enough worries.” “T am afraid I am getting old,” said Sheldon wearily. “I had thought that children confided in their parents. Betty had this all made up with Kerry. She seems to have more confidence in him than in me. And I am her father.” “ And Kerry,” Dick added, “ is her hus- band.” “Her husband!” “Yes, dad, and any girl’s lucky to get him. And her place is right up there be- side him. Do you recall that night when I came in from New York and told you { had been at a dinner party? Well, I was. But I didn’t think it was necessary at that time to add that it was a wedding dinner party. And this is their delayed honey- moon trip. What better kind of a honey- moon for a pilot and his bride—particu- larly when his bride is a Sheldon?” Samuel Sheldon shook his white head. “You young folks!” he said. ‘ Sometimes I don’t understand you. Well, if Betty’s happy, I’m happy.” “ She’s happy, don’t make any mistake about that!’”? Dick assured him. “ And what sort of gibberish was Runyon pouring into your ear? Saying that Kerry threat- ened him with a revolver, trying to force him out of the race through personal jeal- ousy, and all that? Does it seem reason- able, with Kerry the husband of Betty? Of course, you don’t believe a word of it, dad.” “ No, I don’t. As for Runyon, we’ll see how this race comes out. I have only two interests in life at this moment—the success of the Sheldon plane in this race, and the safety of my daughter. You don’t think our enemies would attempt any more dirty work, now with the race already start- ed, do you?” asked Samuel Sheldon, ner- vously. “No, Kerry has countered effectively every time they tried to put him out. And I think when this is all over, dad, you'll find that the villain in all this melodrama of the past few months has been Philip Hatton. But all that investigation can come later. Come! We'll ride down to AIR MAIL. 521 the newspaper office and get the reports on . the race.” In the office of the Trico Company at Avalon, Philip Hatton sat beside a tele- phone. As soon as it rang he picked up the receiver, and his eyes lighted up with an- ticipation. “Yes?” he called into the mouthpiece. “All right, Weimar! Well? What? Damn that Runyon! Well, go easy! Start here right away. Details then. Easy, I tell you! Tell me when you get here.” His thin nostrils dilating in anger at the news that the Sheldon plane had got away, he snapped the receiver back on the hook, cutting off Weimar, his henchman, in the middle of a sentence. The telephone bell rang again, but, with a curse, Hatton snatched the receiver off the hook and placed it on the desk. Let that fool Weimar keep ringing; he, Hatton, refused to do any more talking when it was action that was needed. He opened a drawer, and from a corner beneath several books, took out a little vellum-bound code book, the keys of which he had originated himself. He paged it through feverishly, and after a few mo- ments penciled out the following cabalistic message: Blank Blondo Skogo Mattox. Then, although the code was a private one that the most ingenious person might fail to decipher, he tore the pages out of the vellum binding, cut them into little strips and then tore them across, rolled them into a crumpled ball, and then crossed the yard of the Trico plant, where a man was at the key of a radio outfit. “Right away,” he said to the man, who looked back at him meaningly. ‘ Don’t waste a second.” ~The radio operator looked at the code, meaningless even to him. Only Hatton and Carson, the dare-devil pilot, knew the meaning of those coined symbols from the code book. Hatton knew that Carson would take any chance for money; knew that Carson didn’t like Kerry anyhow, since Kerry was the means of his having been discharged COPMICGLOOOKS (E@)