By ARTHUR STRINGER W,,.ltw«
THE STORY SO FAR: To help hie
partner, Cruger, keep Norland Airway*
la bntiaet*. Alan Slade acre** to fly a
“scientist" named Frayne and hi* at
alitant, Karnell, to the Anawotto river
In search of the trnmpeter swan. With
the proceed* Cruger ha* bought a new
plane, a Lockheed, which Is stolen while
Slade is away. The plane must be
found, or Norland Airways Is through.
When he returns Slade starts out again,
with only two meager clues, to recover
the plane. The first clue Is the “devil
bird” the eskimo, Vmanak, believes
comes from Echo Harbor. The second
Is Slade's hnncb that the lost plane and
the swan-hunter, Frayne, are somehow
connected. He flies back to where he
left Frayne, only to find that Frayne Is
apparently Just bunting swans. There Is
■o sign of the lost plane.
New continue with the story.
CHAPTER X
He would be glad, he knew, to
bear the roar of that engine again.
He even quickened his pace as he
recognized the cove where his ship
was anchored.
Then his gladness vanished and a
tingle of apprehension went through
bis body. For as he glanced down
at the waterfront he saw that his
mooring lines had been cast off and
his plane was adrift He could see
It moving in the freshening breeze,
circling slowly about until the pon
toons grounded on a gravel-bar.
His response to that discovery was
both immediate and unreasoned. He
went sliding down the ridge side and
splashing through the shallows as he
rounded the cove end. The intrud
er aboard the plane must have seen
him as he went.
Slade could make out a wide
shouldered figure clambering
down to a float, a figure that
hesitated for only a moment and
then leaped into the shallow wa
ter and waded ashore. Once
ashore he slipped away into the
spruce slopes and was lost to
sight.
Slade’s first impulse was to race
after him. But the most important
thing, he remembered, was his
plane. He went splashing out and
climbed aboard. There his quick eye
inventoried his instrument board,
assessed engine and controls, and
discovered no damage to his ship.
His smile was grim as he replaced
the breaker assembly which was es
sential to the life of his motor.
Its absence, he suspected, had kept
that wide-shouldered intruder from
taking off and disappearing into
the unknown. And that wide-shoul
dered skulker, he had every reason
to believe, was Frayne’s man Kar
nell.
Indignation was still burning
through Slade’s body as he gunned
the motor and rose into the air. He
circled twice over the lakeside
spruce slopes, searching without re
ward for any sign of life there. Then
he veered back and circled twice
over the island-studded water where
he knew Frayne’s observation post
to be. But the only sign of life he
caught from that quarter was the
sudden wing-flutter of a huge male
trumpeter, who interrupted his
watchful driftings to lift his long
neck and fling a cry of defiance up
at the cloud-cleaving wings of his
rival. Slade caught the sound of
that trumpeted challenge, even
through his engine roar, as he
turned south and headed for the
camp at the mouth of the Kasakana.
Slade had the feeling of being in
more friendly territory when he saw
Lake Avikaka once more under his
floats. But no welcoming figures
emerged from the shack as he cir
cled over it in the evening light.
No kindly old voice called out to
him as he moored beside the land
ing stage.
That left him both puzzled and de
pressed, until his ear caught the
sound of a distant detonation. He
knew well enough the meaning of
that blast. It meant that Zeke and
Minty had foregone their usual sup
per hour to keep on with their mine
work, delving like badgers along
some new drift or pounding rock at
the bottom of some new test pit.
Slade, standing back between the
shadowy ore piles, could see Zeke
crimp a mercury cap with his teeth
and stick it into a dynamite car
tridge before disappearing in the pit
mouth. It was that old sourdough's
fixed rule, he remembered, never
to use powder until down to hard
rock. Their methods may have been
those of a passing generation, but
they had found something worth
while. For after a second detona
tion and a second scrambling down
the pit mouth Slade could hear Min
ty’s cackle of triumph as he inspect
ed a fragment of blue quartz which
Zeke’s tremulous fingers held just
under his nose.
“She’s rich, all right,” cried Min
ty. "You can see her with the naked
eye.”
“She’s the best yet,” Zeke agreed
as he continued to squint at the
ragged quartz slab. "And now we
know she’s there, you old thimble
ribber, it’s about time to call it a
day.”
It was then that Slade called out
to them. That caU. through the
long-houred evening light, caused
Minty to wheel about with a star
tled grunt at the same moment that
Zeke's long arm swung out to catch
up a rifle that had rested unseen
against the windlass frame.
"Put it down, you old quartz-chip
per; put it down," was Slade’s cry
as he advanced toward them.
The two taut figures relaxed. The
—10—
A figure that hesitated for only a moment and then leaped Into the
shallow water.
hostility went out of their faces. But
Zeke’s eyes remained troubled.
"You mustn't do things like that,
Lindy. I might’ve given you a air
hole through the esophagus.”
"I’d rather you gave me a meal,”
said the new-comer, as they shook
hands and headed toward the shack.
"You’re too old to keep to a sixteen
hour day like this."
Minty pointed an accusatory fin
ger at the flyer.
“So you’re givin’ us the go-by
these days?” he questioned.
"What does that mean?” asked
Slade as they trudged shackward.
"Weren’t you in this neighborhood
two nights ago?”
Slade stopped in his tracks.
"Why do you ask that?”
” ’Cause I heard you when you
came down to pick up them gas
drums. And I heard you the day
before, over the hills," Minty
asserted.
"Wait a minute,” cried Slade.
"You don’t mean my gas is gone?”
“You know it’s gone, you night
prowlin’ puddle-jumper. But why in
heck did you tote off them two dozen
old ore bags?”
Slade studied the two old faces
so wrinkled with concern.
“You say you heard a plane?” he
questioned.
“We sure did,” said Minty. “And
heard it more 'n once. What’s more,
I seen it.
“This,” said Slade, "is going to
need a little looking into.”
Zeke agreed with him.
“We don’t want no strangers
snoopin' round this territory,” he
proclaimed.
"How about that nincompoop in
specks who’s nosin’ out swans’
nests?" questioned Minty. "He's the
only outsider within a crow flight
o’ this camp.”
“But he has no plane,” said Slade.
"And no need for one.”
"Well, he’d better keep clear o’
this claim,” croaked the embattled
Minty.
“But two can play at that game,
Minty,” Slade pointed out "And
there’s something going on between
here and Echo Harbor that needs
a bit of looking into."
"I seen a plane all right,” main
tained the scowling Minty. "But I
can’t Agger out why he’d be flyin'
across empty country.”
“Or what in heck he'd swipe two
dozen ore bags for," added Zeke.
Minty’s apprehensive eye rested
on the young flyer.
"Looks to me, son, as though you
was the bird to do some needed
scoutin’ round here. That Snow-Ball
Baby o’ yours could cover the whole
Barrens while Minty and me was
footin’ it through fifteen miles o'
muskeg."
"You’re right, Zeke," Slade ac
knowledged. "And after I swing
south tomorrow I’m coming back to
do a little investigating along the
Anawotto.
Slade, hightailing it for his home
port on the Snye, headed southward
with a sense of something un
finished, a contradiction unrecon
ciled, a problem unsolved. His first
move, after landing and having a
few hurried words with the redoubt
able Cassidy, was to hurry over to
Cruger and his plain-boarded ad
ministration building.
"What held you up?” was that
official’s curt demand.
"Stolen gas,” said Slade. "There’s
somebody robbing our emergency
caches.”
Cruger, at that announcement,
wheeled about on him.
"At what stations?”
“At Wolf Lake. And later at Avi
kaka."
The pilot could see his chief's
mouth harden with exasperation.
“So we’re getting it from all
sides!" exclaimed Cruger. “You
know, of course, we haven’t spotted
a trace of that lost Lockheed?”
Slade nodded.
“I talked with Cassidy, down at
the dock. I’d a question or two I
wanted to ask him. It didn’t help
much."
"Nothing from Cassidy has helped
much,” said his partner. “But a
plane can’t be carried off like a
snatched pocketbook. It can’t be
hidden away and it can’t be sold
and it can't be passed on to others.”
“Then what’s the answer?” asked
Cruger.
"That's something still ahead of
us,” said Cruger. "Every ship in
this Dominion has to pass govern
mental inspection and carry a li
cense. It can't make a move with
out being checked and counter
checked. It couldn’t land across the
Line without customs permits and
it couldn’t stay there without be
ing reported.”
"It’s a pretty big country," was
Slade’s altogether unsatisfactory re
ply.
"Not to a cloud-dodger who can
go from here to Aklavik in fourteen
hours,” contended Cruger, who add
ed, not without acerbity: "And keep
his eyes open!"
Slade was willing to let that pass.
"Did you ever stop to think about
motives,” he asked, "in the swip
ing of that Lockheed?”
"I’m not a mind-reader,” retorted
the older man. "But I know this
much: a crack-pot who’d high-jack
a plane like that would always be
ready to take chances in the air."
"He must have known how to fly.”
Cruger’s eye became meditative
as it went up to the wall map.
"You mentioned the Avikaka,” he
said. "That’s well on toward the
Anawotto, isn’t it?”
Slade acknowledged that it was.
“About as empty country as
you’ve got on your run?”
"It’s not on my run. But it’s
empty, all right Mostly bird life
and barrens. It’s the district 1
dropped your swan-hunter In.”
Cruger’s gaze became reflective.
"Oh, yes; the swan-hunter. He
told us he wanted to stay anchored
there until after the freeze-up.”
"And perhaps later,” said Slade.
"I saw him on my way south. All
he seems to want just now is to
be left alone."
"It just doesn’t add up," said
Cruger.
Slade tried to make his smile a
casual one.
“How about me trying to make it
add up?” he suggested. He had, as
he stood there, been doing a bit
of rough and ready mathematics of
his own.
“What could you do?”
“After dropping my pay load at
Conjuror’s Bay," Slade suggested,
“I might scout around where I felt
it would do the most good. I mean,
scout around in earnest.”
Cruger’s glance went up to the
wall map again.
"The field’s too big,” he said,
“no one man could fine-comb that
territory. And in a couple of weeks
we'd have you to look for.”
“I’d take a chance on that," said
the man with the Viking eyes.
“But you wouldn't even know
what you were looking for.”
"Don't be too sure of that,” was
the delusively casual reply. “I’ve
a hunch or two I’d rather like to
sound out."
“About what?”
“First, about that Anawotto coun
try."
“This company can’t operate on
hunches,” Cruger averred in a voice
that was less friendly than his gaze.
“And that's a fine country to get
lost in."
“I don’t think I’d get lost," Slade
said. "I know the lay-out there a
little better than most bush hawks.
And if I went in I’d go with camp
equipment and extra fuel and ra
tions.”
"And grow whiskers and go na
tive," observed Cruger, “and leave
us with two planes out of service!”
Slade ignored the note of mock
ery.
“I usually get back,” he an
nounced.
Cruger’s face lost its frown.
“You do,” he acknowledged. "But
a trip like that would mean two
way radio, to keep in touch with
US.
“I wouldn’t want radio,” said
Slade. “That would be spilling the
beans to everyone between Edmon
ton and Point Barrow. What I’d
rather have would be a belt ax and
an air mattress, and perhaps a fish
net. And a magazine rifle. And an
extra mosquito bar. The flies are
bad in that section these days.”
“Sounds to me, Lindy, as though
you wanted to follow up that looney
bird-lover and look for swans.”
"No, I won't be looking ior
swans,” said Slade. "It will be for
something bigger than a trumpet
er.”
fTO BE CONTINUED)
Released by Western Newspaper Union.
Our National Anthem
(It was written IS* years aye this
■enth. Fsr mere than a renter? and a
aearter Americans have been singing It.
Bat hew many ef them hnew the OTHER
THREE stancesf)
HE WROTE IT . .
Francis Scott Key watched the
British bombard Fort McHenry
throughout the night of September
13, 1814. Then "by the dawn’s early
light” he saw that "our flag was still
there.”
THIS INSPIRED HIM
This flagstaff stands on the same
spot where stood the flagstaff from
which was flown the banner that
Inspired Francis Scott Key to write
THE STAR SPANGLED BANNER
O, say can you see, by the dawn’s
early light,
What so proudly we hailed at the
twilight’s last gleaming,
Whose broad stripes and bright
stars, through the perilous fight.
O’er the ramparts we watched, were
so gallantly streaming?
And the rockets’ red glare, the
bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof through the night that
our flag was still there.
O, say, does that star-spangled ban
ner yet wave
O’er the land of the free and the
-home of the brave?
On that shore, dimly seen through
the mists of the deep,
Where the foe’s haughty host in
dread silence reposes;
What is that which the breeze, o’er
the towering steep,
As it fitfully blows, half conceals,
half discloses?
Now it catches the gleam of the
morning’s first beam.
In full glory reflected now shines in
the stream;
’Tis the star-spangled banner, O,
long may it wave
O’er the land of the free and the
home of the brave.
And where is that band who so
vauntingly swore
That the havoc of war and the
battle's confusion,
A home and a country should leave
us no more?
Their blood has washed out their
foul footsteps’ pollution.
No refuge could save the hireling
and slave
From the terrors of flight or the
gloom of the grave;
And the star-spangled banner in
triumph doth wave
O'er the land of the free and the
home of the brave.
O, thus be it ever, when freemen
shall stand
Between their loved homes and the
war’s desolation;
Blest with victory and peace, may
the heaven-rescued land
Praise the Power that hath made
and preserved us a nation.
Then conquer we must, when our
cause it is just,
And this be our motto—-“In God is
our Trust!”
And the star-spangled banner in
triumph shall wave
O’er the land of the free and the
home of the brave.
Key’s poem was first printed in
the Baltimore American on Septem
ber 21. Later it was distributed in
handbill form and set to the music
of an old English drinking song. “To
Anacreon in Heaven,” composed by
John Stafford Smith. The man who
joined the words of “The Star Span
gled Banner" and the tune of “To
Anacreon in Heaven” was Ferdi
nand Durang, an actor then serv
1 ing in the American forces near
! Baltimore, and he and his brother
first sang it in public in the old
Holliday Street theater in Baltimore
late in September, 1814.
Little Girls Go to School in
Jumpers and Jacket Dresses
By CHERIE NICHOLAS
MORE than ever designers
are alert to the need of
outfitting the little daughters
of the household so that they
may be sensibly gowned at
the same time that they are
made to look “pretty as a
picture” at play, in the school
room and all theday through.
One of the trends that are
adding infinitely to the inter
est of juvenile fashions is definite ac
ceptance of cottons for all-year
round wear. The cotton vogue has
developed to such an extent, it is
possible now to plan an entire ward
robe in terms of smart cottons.
For back-to-school wear there is
nothing smarter than the handsome
richly colorful plaid ginghams which
are being made up into autumn suits
for grown-ups as well as children.
Styled after the manner of the two
piece shown to the left in the above
picture, these plaid ginghams suit
the younger generation to perfec
tion. It is especially gratifying to
any little girl’s pride to know that
her jacketed dress is as smartly
and painstakingly styled as those of
her elders. The pleated skirt and
the jacket, too, have an air of
sophistication that pleases fashion
minded little girls. Additional inter
est is created by using the plaid
vertically for the skirt and horizon
tally for the jacket. The neckline
is softened with a notched collar of
spanking white pique.
The little girl shown centered in
the group probably feels triumphant
after her first day in first grade be
cause she could wear one of her
new cottons, and of course she just
beamed with pride when teacher
said her mother deserved an “A”
for choosing washable cottons for
a little girl’s school clothes. This
tiny tot likes the jacket styling of
her costume, too, for it is done
quite after the manner of big sis
ter’s best-beloved gingham gown.
School playgrounds encourage
rough and tumble activities, but a
Jumper dress of blue cordurella (fine
pinwale corduroy) like that worn by
the youngster shown to the right in
the above picture can survive al
most any hard knocks because of
its robust construction and still look
neat and in perfect condition after
repeated launderings. Pinwale cor
durella is certainly the ideal fabric
for children’s wear. It is inexpen
sive, it comes in beautiful colors
and it is altogether likable for its
many attractive qualities. Note
the smart styling of this little jump
er. It is intriguingly cut in prin
cess lines.
Other trends that are outstanding
in the styling of the new fall juvenile
frocks include blouse and skirt two
somes, the skirt usually a gypsy-like
dirndl, although there is also a big
showing of tailored cloth skirts even
for very tiny tots. Boxy jackets
and skirts also reflect adult styling
in that they have a cunning suit ef
fect. Skirts may have a full look,
but that is no sign designers have
ignored new fabric conservation rul
ings. It merely signifies an adroit,
subtle handling of material to give
an illusion of fullness. Put to the
test the measurements will be found
to be within the inches allowed.
More slacks suits will be worn by
children than ever before. They are
showing cute models in versatile ver
sions, some of wool flannels, but
most of wool fabric blends to take
the place of all wool. These come
in reds, navies, browns and in com
binations of bright colors finished
off with dark pipings and other trim
ming details. They have the clev
erest little jackets and sweaters to
match.
Released by Western Newspaper Union.
College Chic
It isn't easy to stretch a budget to
include the many different changes
that are needed for ’teen-agers to
keep up with the crowd. Clever,
thrifty girls are learning to "make
their own" from modern patterns
which are easy to follow. In this way
they find it possible to have a really
extensive wardrobe at reasonable
cost. At the same time, they are
feeling patriotic as well as prac
tical, because our government is en
couraging home sewing as a con
servative measure. The dirndl is,
of course, their pet, and here it is in
a suit of soft rayon crepe. It goes
to the head of the class for casual
ness and comfort. Note the brief
jacket. These new short lengths
are the latest news in chic.
That Old Favorite
Is Back—Woolknit
There's no end to the smart knit
ted apparel that is making a record
showing for fall and winter. The
fashions turned out have that well
bred look, and they include every
thing from jackets and separate
coats to suits and one-piece or two
piece dresses that are the most eye
alluring creations imaginable.
To mention a few highlights, there
are wool fleece coats to be worn
casually now being shown in the ma
chine woolknit displays. One-piece
coat dresses, finished off with gros
grain bindings and grosgrain-cov
ered buttons and gore-flared to per
fection, simply fascinate with their
clever styling and their rich color
ings. The jacket suits have all the
fine tailored look that a suit should
have.
Then there are clothes for war
dens who will be patrolling during
cold days and nights, action-free
practical fleece coats and sweaters
of every conceivable type.
Detail Brightens Simple
Classic Wool Designs
After being garbed in a uniform
for hours and hours at a stretch
while on defense duty it is in the
natural course of events that women
should feel the urge for pretty fem
inine dress to wear in their few
leisure hours. And that is just what
has hapnened.
Merchants having sensed this need
are making it a point to supply the
demand with pretty frocks for infor
mal occasions. Designers are touch
ing up classic wools with a bit of
embroidery or a dash of glittery
detail or a contrasting yoke done
in pastel sheer.
This Jiffy-Knit Jacket
Costs but One Dollar
LJERE’S your cotton jiffy-knit
*■ * jacket! Costs about a dollar
—looks exclusive—has an easy
pattern stitch, and is warm enough
for chilly evenings!
• • •
Pattern 7350 contains Instruction* f*r
jacket in sizes 12-14. 16-18; illustration* of
stitches; materials needed. Send your or
der to:
Sewing Circle Needlecraft Dept.
K Eighth Are. New Tork
Enclose IS cents (plus one cent to
cover cost of mailing) for Pattern
No.
Name .
Address ..
THE SEVERITY of those attacks of Bronchial
Asthma, intensified by pollen-laden air, may
be reduced at this season ot the year...use
Dr. H. Schiftmann's Asthmador lust as thou
sands have done lor 70 years. The aromatic
fumes help make breathing easier...aid far
clearing the bead...bring more restful
nights of sleeping. At druggists In powder,
cigarette or pipe-mixture form. Or you may
send for free supply at all three. DeptMM
I. SCHIFFMANN CO* Los Angeles. CaUL
CALLOUSES
To relieve me nful csllouies, burn
ing or tendffneas an bottom of feet
end remove cslloasee—get these
thin, soothing, cushioning pods.
□
COLDS
quickly u it
LIQUID
TABLETS
SALVE
NOSE DROPS
COUCH PROPS
—MB]
on “certain days” of month
If functlbnal monthly disturbances
make you nervous, restless, high
strung, cranky, blue, at such times
-try Lydia E. Pinkham's Vegetable
Compound — famous for over 60
years —to help relieve such pain
and nervous feelings of women's
“difficult days."
Taken regularly - Pinkham’s
Compound helps build up resist
ance against such annoying symp
toms. Follow label directions. Well
worfk truing! 1
BARGAINS
—that will save you many a
dollar will escape you if
you fail to read carefully and
regularly the advertising of
local merchants » ■ »
IN THIS PIFEHl