for a few yards in front of the plane. Returning he climbed into his
seat and started the engine. They arose without mishap.

Within a mile or two, Komoru picked out another farm house and made
a landing nearby.

"I will go with you this time," said Ethel courageously.

Approaching an American residence, Ethel suddenly found herself
conscious of the fact that she was dressed in a most unladylike
Japanese kimo. For a moment the larger sentiments of the occasion
were replaced by the womanly query, "What will people say?" Then she
laughed inwardly at the absurdity of her thought.

Komoru produced the roll from his pocket and unwound a small cloth
poster. This he fastened to the door jam by pressing in the thumb
tacks that were sewed in the hem. Then noting another white blotch
on the opposite side of the door, he carefully shielded his lamp,
and made a light. It was a duplicate of the notice he had just
fastened up and read:


WARNING

"Two hundred thousand Japanese have invaded Texas
and are desirous of possessing your property. You
are respectfully requested to depart immediately
and apply to your government for property
elsewhere. All buildings not vacated within
twenty-four hours will be promptly burned--unless