“You gentlemen are here, upon General O’Malley’s recommendation, in
order to let me give you an opportunity to volunteer for a special
mission upon the success of which depends to a considerable extent the
lives of many hundred people. Even more important, it has considerable
bearing on the future welfare of this country. Least important--in
itself, without considering the ramifications resulting from it--it
means the capture of a very important and dangerous criminal.”
Graves’ remarkable eyes flitted from one flyer to the other as he
studied the effect of his words. Broughton was a thickset, tanned young
man possessed of a certain reserve which involuntarily commanded the
respect of Graves. He was blond-haired and blue-eyed, and his gaze was
as steady as it was noncommittal. Tall, lath-like, Hinkley had an air of
careless recklessness about him, helped along by the pronouncedly
sardonic cast of his face. Like Broughton, he preserved silence.
“With General O’Malley’s permission, I will go over some of the ground I
have already covered with him for the benefit of you gentlemen,” Graves
went on after a moment.
He proceeded to tell the airmen of Hayden, his importance and the
difficulty of capturing him without great publicity and loss of life.
“The only dope we have on the exact layout of his headquarters was
obtained through field-glasses by operatives who climbed adjoining
mountains and studied the place from all sides. He lives on the very
peak of a mountain, without another cabin within miles. But one rough
road, winding around the mountain side on a very steep grade, leads to
it. For several miles before it reaches the summit of the mountain the
cliff drops away sheer from one side of the road, and on the other rises
with almost equal steepness. There are so many sheer ravines, and so
forth, that it would be almost impossible to get even two hundred men up
by any other way than the road; that is, providing they carried
machine-guns and other supplies which would be necessary if they stood
any chance of capturing Hayden. He has several guards, sufficiently
armed, who have every strategic point guarded. Hayden is absolutely
without hope, if his presence in this country is known. Capture means
---- for him, and he is almost as sure of it as I am. Being a man of
force and brilliancy, although he is crazy, and possessed of a weird
magnetism which induces real fanaticism among his followers, the few men
up there will undoubtedly fight for him to the death. My job--in which I
would like to have you gentlemen help me--is to capture him without
publicity or loss of life.”
“If there’s a chance we may be working for you on this picnic, it might
not be discourteous for us to ask who you are?”
It was Hinkley speaking. He was lounging lazily in his chair, one long
leg drooping over the other. Graves smiled.
“Here, perhaps, is enough to satisfy you,” he returned, handing Hinkley
the document which had been laying on the desk since O’Malley had laid
it down.
“I don’t know just who he is myself,” confided O’Malley as Hinkley
glanced over the signed note. “But I have a feeling that I’d give a
month’s pay to be in on what he is going to do.”
Broughton smiled at his irrepressible chief.
“That remains to be seen, general,” he said gently--the first word he
had spoken since entering the office.
“Mysterious, but impressive, Jim,” laughed the irreverent Hinkley as he
passed the sheet of paper over to Broughton.
The flyer read it slowly, and handed it back to Graves without comment.
“My scheme is this,” said Graves, leaning back once more and setting the
cigar in one corner of his mouth. “That’s wild country--no place to
land. The only cleared spot for twenty miles--or in other words near
enough to Hayden to suit my needs--is right around his cabin. It is
small and rough and on a grade so steep that according to my information
it would make a man puff to climb it. I want you gentlemen to fly me
over there in a Martin bomber, which I understand is about the safest of
ships in a crackup. This ship will be equipped with extra gas and oil
tanks to insure large cruising radius. No ship with ordinary gas
capacity could safely make the hop, I understand; in any event would not
have fuel enough for any reconnaisance.
“In the ship there will also be provisions, machine guns, Colts and
plenty of ammunition. I want you gentlemen to fool around with the motor
when we are over Hayden’s headquarters, make a supposed forced landing,
and endeavor to crack up the ship without hurting any of us. I will be
in the uniform of a colonel. You will also be in full uniform.
“Naturally we will crack up in Hayden’s front yard. It is the only
cleared spot, as I said. He will not like our presence, nor will any of
his henchman be very enthusiastic. But we’ll be ‘in,’ and it’s a ----
sight easier to get out than it would be to get in.
“What we do from then on is on the knees of the gods, so to speak. Some
way or other we must invent a way to get Hayden and get him out of
there. It’s a man’s-size job, all right, but we’ve got to figure on a
little luck and then taking advantage of it.
“You men are recommended as flyers, and also as men who’ve had some
diversified experience. This is not flattery, it is a statement of
facts. I expect that you can handle yourselves in any company, and that
you’ll be able to come to bat in a pinch when we get up there.
“It’s a hard contract, and you will get nothing out of it except a
document in the secret archives of the War Department which may
sometimes help you. Now first, what do you think of the plan insofar as
it concerns the flying end of things, and secondly, do you want to
declare yourselves in on it?”
Graves had been talking as clearly and without excitement as always, and
now he waited with equal calmness for a reply. General O’Malley was sunk
deep in his swivel-chair, watching the younger men with a half-smile on
his face. In his heart was a growing respect for the equable Mr. Graves.
“How much flying have you done, Graves?” he inquired impulsively.
“I made my second flight today, coming down from Washington. What do you
say, gentlemen?”
“Can’t get you off the track a minute,” said O’Malley genially. “I’ll
subside.”
There was silence for a moment. Hinkley smoked a cigaret, blowing rings
at the ceiling with an air of complete indifference. Broughton was
gazing steadily at Graves, his scrutiny untroubled by the fact that
Graves noticed it. The stocky, slightly stolid-looking pilot was the
first to speak.
“A deal of that kind is ticklish business without those in it knowing
their helpers a ---- sight better than we know each other, sir, but one
thing and another about it sort of sells the proposition to me. Count me
in, I guess.”
“Suits me,” declared Hinkley. “When do we go?”
“The first minute that the ship is ready. From Washington I got this
dope--tell me if I’m wrong. A Martin lasts around five hours in the air
if you take a chance and win on the oil staying with you. Fifty extra
gallons of gas in each motor, and approximately fifty per cent. more oil
than usual, will assure us of seven hours in the air if we need it. It
may take time to find our man.”
Broughton nodded.
“When can the extra tanks be installed, general? Major Jenks of the
Engineering Division said that it was a comparatively simple job. As I
understand it there is plenty of room in a Martin, and of course to any
ship that can lift your two thousand pounders the extra weight will be a
bagatelle.”
“For a landsman you’re pretty wise,” the general complimented him. “I’ll
have the exact estimate in about ten minutes.”
He pressed the bell and instructed Evans to have the engineer officer of
the field report at his office immediately. Then the four men plunged
into a discussion of guns, food, and other details. Graves had exact
figures at his finger tips. Not a detail was brought up which he did not
settle as smoothly and quickly as he talked. There was something
ruthlessly direct about him--an air of resistless efficiency that was
queerly at variance with his appearance, which inclined rather more
toward being that of a student than a man of physical achievement.
Mutual respect grew in the minds of the flyers and of Graves. He was no
amateur at reading character and estimating men, and he found the airmen
to his liking.
The engineer officer, ordered to use every facility at his command to
expedite the changing of the Martin, said that on the morning of the
second day the ship would be ready for test. At noon it should be ready
to go.
“Good,” said Graves. “I guess we’ve covered everything, gentlemen.
Hinkley and Broughton will attend to gathering the equipment, general,
providing you furnish them proper authority. I will be back about
nine a.m., day after tomorrow. I guess there is no need for me to
emphasize the need for absolute secrecy--you all realize that. If any of
you want to reach me, you can call the Monticello Hotel in Norfolk and
ask for Room 220. Don’t ask for Graves.
“Thank you for your help--I’ll see you day after tomorrow. Good-by until
then.”
With a smile and slight bow, he left.
* * * * *
“Now I wonder just who in ---- he is?” inquired Hinkley as the two
flyers started to walk toward the bachelor quarters.
“Search me, but he’s turning up two thousand a minute, looks like. I
figure I might not mind having him behind me in a scrap of any nature
whatsoever.”
“He’s probably some big agent of the secret service. There’s a lot of
those eggs that pull off big stuff and nobody ever knows it. Take that
Zimmerman note, for instance, during the war. At least, that’s what my
ex-pilot Dumpy Scarth says.”
“Dumpy ought to know,” grinned Broughton. “What do you think of our
coming _soirée_?”
“If I thought, I’d probably never go!”