a start, she arose and leaned forward over the driver. Komoru was
looking intently at the scroll chart. In a moment she designed the
cause of his interest, for there had rolled across the forward
surface of the chart the outline of a coast.

In the far left-hand corner was marked the city of Galveston, and to
the right was the Sabine River that forms the boundary between Texas
and Louisiana. Ethel raised her eyes from the map and looked far out
to the Northwest. Sure enough, she discerned the lights of a city at
the point where Galveston was indicated by the chart.

"How far have we come?" she asked in astonishment.

"Eight hundred miles," replied Komoru. "See, it is nearly
two-thirty. The first men with the faster planes were to have
arrived at one o'clock."

A little later they passed over the dimly discernible coast line,
some thirty or forty miles to the east of Galveston. Komoru
carefully consulted his compass, watch and aneroid, and made a
slight change in his course.

"Where do we land?" asked the girl.

Komoru steadied the wheel with one hand; and, reaching into the
breast pocket of his aviator's jacket, he produced a little
document-like roll. "These are the orders," he explained, and asked
Ethel to spread out the papers on the chart case.

The instruction sheet read: