Texas. They passed over Austin and Waco and Fort Worth and Dallas.
They turned eastward and passed over Texarkana, and thence south to
impress the people of Shreveport.

The excitement evinced in the towns increased as the news of their
flight was wired ahead. They were frequently shot at by groups of
excited citizens or occasional companies of militia, but at the
height and speed at which they were flying the bullets went wide.
One plane was lost. Something must have snapped. It doubled up and
went tumbling downward like a wounded pigeon.

The sun was dropping toward the western horizon. The invaders had
been flying for ten hours. They had been without food or sleep for
thirty-six hours. Save for the brief relaxation of the morning,
Komoru had not taken his hands from the steering wheel, nor his foot
from the engine control since the previous sunset in the Bay of
Tehauntepec.

[Illustration: The two women of Aryan blood worked together in the
cotton field side by side with the Orientals.]

As they passed near other planes, Ethel noted that in many cases the
women were driving. Notwithstanding her dislike for him, the girl
found herself wishing that she could relieve Komoru.

She pondered over his "wait and see" and began to discern a new
possibility in an invasion of thirty thousand Japanese. She tried to
imagine one of the society favorites of her Chicago girlhood sitting
in front of her driving that plane. She remembered distinctly that
aeroplane racing was a part of the diversion of such men and that