The English born youth slowly shook his head.
“I heard it, yes,” he said. “But I haven’t the faintest idea what he was trying to tell us. There were four words. He spoke them twice, slowly. He desperately wanted us to tell them to Colonel Welsh. I got them as Al, and Bar, and Cur, and Keys. Perhaps that’s some sort of a code that Colonel Welsh will understand.”
“Yes, it probably is,” Dave said with a frown. “And I guess that means he was one of Colonel Welsh’s agents. Gosh! This makes me feel like a grave robber, but I guess I’ve got to do it. Give me a hand, Freddy. I think we’d better search his pockets, and deliver the contents to Colonel Welsh.”
“Quite,” Freddy murmured, and dropped to his knees again. “I hope the poor chap will understand, wherever he is. Did you get that first bit he spoke about, Dave? I think he was trying to explain that his oxygen tank had been sabotaged. Somebody tampered with it, and he passed out when he took a bit. Phew! He must have come down at least eighteen thousand before he hit. A miracle the ship didn’t catch on fire. Blast war, I say! How I hate the whole rotten business!”
“You can say that again!” Dave muttered grimly. “Okay. You take the things as I hand them to you.”
Some ten minutes later the two youths stared at a tiny pile of personal belongings on the ground. There was a handkerchief, with no initial, a pocket knife, a pack of cigarettes, and a clip of matches. But there was one other article that caused them to stare hard and frown in puzzled wonderment. It was a plain copper disc about the size of an American quarter. It was absolutely smooth, and contained not a single scratch or mark.
“A lucky piece, eh?” Freddy Farmer grunted as he met Dave’s eyes.
“Maybe,” the Yank born flying ace said with a shrug. “But do you notice something kind of strange, Freddy? This poor lad hasn’t got a cent of money on him. Not a thing, except this copper disc.”
“And not a single bit of identification!” Freddy Farmer breathed.
“So it’s certain that he was one of Colonel Welsh’s agents,” Dave said, and bounced the copper disc in his hand. “And my guess is that this will identify him to Colonel Welsh. Gosh! How I hate, now, to keep that date in Frisco tonight.”