“How do you know?” asked Jane.
“There’s no other ship but our own on this division tonight and those lights coming toward us aren’t the riding lights on a night hawk.”
Jane departed on the run, and snapped off the light in the cabin. It would be dawn in another half hour, but for the coming thirty minutes the tri-motor, running without lights, had a chance of escaping the other plane.
The motors labored under a full charge of gas as the big ship rocketed along at 170 miles an hour. Once or twice the needle on the speed dial mounted above the 170 mark, but Charlie couldn’t hold it there.
Jane watched the lights of the other plane. They didn’t appear to be any nearer. Perhaps the bandits, after spotting their quarry, would be content to wait until dawn and then make a quick thrust.
The stewardess wondered if the pursuing plane was radio equipped for even as she left the pilots’ cockpit, the co-pilot had been pouring out a warning of their danger.
It was nerve-racking business as Charlie Fischer piloted the tri-motor with all of the skill of his big hands. In and out of clouds they dodged, now at 8,000 feet, and again 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.