ge saw something that alarmed her, as the second man passed. His
coat slipped open just as he bent to go through the door and she caught
a glimpse of a gun in a shoulder holster. Guns were not unfamiliar
sights to the stewardesses, for each pilot went armed, but a gun on a
passenger was a different thing.

"What were the names of those men?" she asked Sue.

"Anton Mellotti and Chris Bardo. Why?"

"The last man, Bardo, is carrying a gun."

"We'd better tell Charlie Fischer. He's flying us west tonight."

They hurried ahead and caught Charlie just before he climbed into the
cockpit.

"So we've got a gunman aboard," said Charlie, when the girls informed
him of what Jane had seen. "We'll see about that."

Charlie entered the cabin and tapped Bardo on the shoulder. Jane
couldn't hear what he said, but when Charlie returned he didn't have
the gun.

"He flashed a deputy sheriff's badge and there wasn't anything I could
do," explained Charlie. "You kids have let your imaginations run away
with you. It's time to go."

Sue and Jane went aboard and Jane gave her friend a hand in strapping
the passengers into their seats. Then they sped westward as though
racing to overtake the sun.

Jane picked up a movie magazine from the pile aboard the ship. On the
fifth page was a large picture of Jackie Condon. Jane looked at it
sharply and then at the boy passenger. There was no mistake. Sue was
right.

She looked ahead at the passengers who had arrived just before their
departure. Mellotti was heavy set, with black hair and beetling brows.
Bardo was taller, lithe and quick of action. His eyes, so dark a brown
they were almost black, shone with animation and when he looked at Jane
she felt a queer chill creep along her spine. There was something
sinister in his manner.

The trip westward was uneventful and they left Omaha on time. It was
near Kearney when Jane, who had been reading an Omaha paper, looked up
to see one of the passengers standing in the aisle. She started ahead
to tell him that it was against orders when she saw something glinting
dully in his right hand. Other passengers were raising their hands.

It was Mellotti, gun in hand. Bardo, also carrying a weapon, was
hurrying toward the pilot's cockpit and Jane knew that the suspicion
which had gripped her in Chicago was a reality. They were abducting the
young film star.

Chapter Twenty-five

On Desperate Wings

That night was timeless for Jane. Alway