in at 6,000, but always the
relentless pursuit was with them. The sky lightened and Jane knew that
the crisis was near. She wanted to go ahead and talk with Charlie and
the co-pilot, but she didn't dare leave her passenger.

Mrs. Van Verity Vanness yawned and threw off the blanket which had
shielded her shoulders. She sat up and looked out into the gray light.
Jane answered her summons.

"We're having company," said Mrs. Van Verity Vanness, pointing toward
the other ship, a black biplane, which had drawn near.

Jane didn't dare tell her the truth about the other plane.

"Just some pilot up early," she said lightly, but her heart was far
from feeling that way.

Their own plane dove sharply, and Mrs. Van Verity Vanness gasped and
clutched the arms of her seat.

"The morning air is a bit rough at times," explained Jane reassuringly,
but she knew all of the time that the quick dive had been a maneuver of
Charlie's to give them more time. She wondered about the army planes
which had taken off from Des Moines. If their radio was working, they
should arrive soon.

"The pilot of that plane's acting queerly," said Mrs. Van Verity
Vanness. "He seems to be waving at us."

The light was better and Jane looked at the black biplane. Mrs. Van
Verity Vanness was right. They were being waved down and Jane's heart
went sick as she saw the snout of a machine gun sticking over the nose
of the other craft. If Charlie refused to comply with the order, it was
plain they would be the target for machine-gun bullets.

Jane looked at the altimeter with sinking heart. They were down to
7,000 feet and dropping lower steadily. She scanned the country below
for some sign of a city. There were plenty of small towns within range,
but no large ones where an adequate police force could be assembled to
aid them.

Mrs. Van Verity Vanness did not appear alarmed. Charlie stalled at
5,000 feet and Jane saw the pilot of the other plane wave at them
angrily.

It was agonizing, for Jane knew that once they were on the ground there
would be no chance of escape. Her passenger would be whisked away in
the black plane, to be held for a fabulous ransom and a desperately ill
man in New York would be without the sympathy of his mother at his
bedside to help him through his illness.

They were down to 3,000 feet and Charlie Fischer was hunting a good
place to set down when death roared down out of the sky.

Two army planes, their machine guns spitting f