the g-2 ace faces the rainbow of death by donald e. …khorne/archives/issue9/sas.pdf · made a...

www.ualberta.ca/~khorne Flying Aces — April, 19371

Stolen – A Squadron

THE G-2 ACE

FACES THE RAINBOW

OF DEATH

By Donald E. Keyhoe

* * *


Monsieur Ie Diable! Again that sinister phantom had struck. Again that wraith-like

monster had eluded the cunningly-baited traps laid by Intelligence. And still this self-

named devil continued to whisk high officers from their commands, made even barracks

and bridges vanish over night. Now, indeed, his tightening grip threatened the very Allied

cause itself. But now, too, came startling evidence of this fiend's identity. And that

evidence leveled the finger of accusation upon—Philip Strange!

* * *

CHAPTER I - BLACK ACE

THE sky was a deep, sereneblue, patched with slow-drifting,fleecy clouds. Even the roar of theSpad's engine had a lazy, droningnote. Captain Philip Strange leanedback in the cockpit, his thoughts onthe sunny Italian villa he had leftbehind. Those weeks ofconvalescence had been a welcomeinterlude. One espionage missionafter another had brought his tautnerves to the breaking-point, but nowthat raw-edged strain was gone.

Naples had given him backhis soul. Only once before had heknown such peace and relief. Thathad been years ago, when he hadrun away from a tyrannical uncle—agreedy old man who had put him onthe stage as a boy prodigy,exploiting his uncanny memory andhis gifts for lightning calculation.Since then he had roamed the world,learned a dozen languages, anddiscovered odd secrets in a hundredparts of the globe. But the war hadended that, and under an assumedname he had enlisted at Kelly Field.

The rest was a flood ofmemory . . . Wings . . . France ... afew weeks at the Front, until G.H.Q.had learned his identity. They had

made him a G-2 ace and successagainst the Boche had made him ahunted man with a price upon hishead.

He was living on borrowedtime, but suddenly, as he looked atthe blue-black guns on his cowl, hewas glad to be going back. His mindwas rested, and he felt an eagernessstirring in his veins. The theater ofwar lay not far ahead, and he knewthat already a role awaited him onthat grim and dangerous stage. Witha rekindling of interest, he thoughtover the two messages whichColonel Jordan had sent him. Thefirst had been delivered at Naples,through Italian Intelligence. It ran:

"Recalling you becauseI can't stand this anylonger. Expect to have mypants or my bridgeworkstolen next. G.H.Q. hasgone crazy, and I need asane man. Meet me at SecondCorps Headquarters field,seven tonight. 784NN—Jordan."

Strange laughed to himself.He could almost see the irate face ofthe G-2 chief as he wrote the words.The message still made no sense; itlooked like something one of the Jaytwins might have written. And the


second message, handed to him byan Intelligence officer when he hadrefueled at Lyon, seemed to have noconnection. He recalled the wordsprecisely:

"Change in 784NN. Flystraight to Sautney villageand investigate report justreceived of a pilot's bodyfound in Molaine River.Said to be in peculiarcondition. Believe it maybe Lieutenant Meade, who ismissing. Meade was workingtemporarily with G-2. Bodyis at the house of afisherman named Lamotte,two kilometers southwest ofvillage and on river bank.There is a clearing nearSautney where you can land.Major Andre of FrenchIntelligence will meet youthere. Jordan."

Strange looked over the sideof the cockpit. The Molaine wasalready in sight—a wide, muddystream which meandered alongthrough the foothills of the Vosges.Beyond Sautney, he remembered, itcurved eastward through theGerman lines and then back againinto France. He could see Sautneyabout five miles ahead, a cluster oflittle white houses, like a toy townthere in the late afternoon sun.

HE frowned thoughtfully asthe Spad droned down in a glide.The affair must be of unusualimportance, to bring Andre there.The explosive little major was chiefof French air intelligence, and fromlong association with him Strange

knew he never left his beloved Parisunless the reason was urgent.

At a thousand feet, he bankedthe Spad into a fast spiral. A glancebelow showed him the house whichJordan had mentioned. It stoodalone, a small, shabby building witha boat-landing in front of it and aroadway stretching behind it andtoward the village. He was about tostraighten out for his approach to theclearing, when he saw a FrenchBreguet come slanting down fromthe West. Evidently Andre was justarriving for their meeting at Sautney.

The man in the front cockpitmade a curious signal with his righthand. Strange started to answer,then his eyes narrowed. It was aclose imitation of the little major'susual signal—but the man was notAndre.

Without any sign of havingguessed the truth, he raised his handin answer. In the next instant, hejerked at the stick and sent the Spadinto a tight climbing turn. A fierceburst famed after him from theBreguet's cowl gun. He kicked overat the top of the zoom and dived.The gunner was frantically whirlinghis tourelle. Yellowish lines from theSpad's Vicker probed through thetwo-seater's tail and on to the rearpit. The gunner threw himself aside,and the smoking streaks missed himby inches.

Before Strange could correcthis aim he was forced to plungeaside to avoid a collision. A blastfrom the Breguet's rear guns torethrough his left wing. He booted therudder, slipped clear, then came upunder the other ship. The pilotwhipped into a vertical bank, to give


the gunner another chance. Strangeraked the bottom of the tilted plane,and the spouting Lewises darkened.He saw the gunner's dead face as hechandelled past the Breguet. Theman's eyes were closed, as thoughhe had tried to shut out that blazingdoom.

The two-seater corkscrewedaway to the right as Strange openedfire again. With surprising skill, thepilot jerked the heavy plane up andaround in a split. His clattering gunmade a crooked black track over theSpad's wingtip. As the phosphorousstreaks feathered off into space,Strange renversed. The tail of theBreguet came into his sights. Hetripped the Vickers, lifted their redjets of lightning over the two-seater'srudder. Fabric flew from the spy-ship's tail as the bullets ate their wayforward. The pilot hurled his ship intoa desperate bank, but Strange grimlyfollowed through.

That deadly dotted path wasalmost to the front pit when a flittingshadow dropped from the heavens.

The Spad's windscreen went topieces before Strange's face, andtwo furious bursts ripped hisinstrument board into ruins. Hekicked into a half-roll. A Nieuport withFrench cocardes plunged by andtwisted back. Strange sprang up inhis seat as he saw the swarthy faceand mustaches of the pilot. It wasAndre!

At his hasty signal, the littlemajor's mouth opened inastonishment. The Nieuport slid inparallel, then Andre raised bothhands in a typical Gallic gesture ofbewilderment. The Nieuport's nosedropped. Andre grabbed at the stickjust as the Breguet whipped down athim, and the single-seater wormedout from under the other plane withthe agility of an eel. In spite of thetense situation, Strange grinned ashe saw that maneuver. It was, likethe gesture, typically Andre.

But his grin faded in the nextsecond, for with a startlingrenversement the Breguet pilot threwhis ship between the two fighters.Strange had clamped his trips as theother man whirled, but he jerked hisfingers away as he saw Andre'sNieuport beyond. The Breguet wasthundering straight at him, its singlegun pounding fiercely. He slammedthe stick to his belt, and the Spaddrilled up straight in front of theroaring two-seater. There was a tautmoment when he thought his swiftcalculation had led him into a trap.The Breguet's prop seemed about tocrash his flipper planes.

Then the Spad was free,though the fuselage was a bullet-gouged wreck. He pulled on over ina hard, fast loop. His guess was


right—the Breguet had whirled backat Andre. The Nieuport was scuttlingaround toward the two-seater's tail,with the Breguet's tracers almostscorching its rudder. Strange coollycentered his guns. His Vickers beltsleaped from their cans, and over thethrobbing guns he saw the pilot fall.

With a snap, the Breguetnosed down and pitched into themuddy river. The dull sound of thecrash reached Strange's ears abovethe bellow of his engine. He watcheda geyser of dirty water shower backon the crumpled ship, then he slidhis fingers away from the trips andlooked around at Andre.

The little Frenchmanvigorously signaled his thanks andpointed toward Sautney. Strangegazed down for an instant, waggledthe Spad's wings and dropped in afast sideslip. From the ripples on thewater he could see the winddirection. He circled above theisolated house on the shore, thencarefully glided down to the tree-bordered lane beyond it. Fishtailingto lose speed, he put the fighterdown. It rolled to a stop in a cloud ofdust, a quarter-mile from the house.As the dust settled, he heard thewhine of the Nieuport, then Andrebrought his swaying ship down. It hit,bounced, and finally came to a stopwith one wing almost against thetrunk of a tree.

STRANGE had switched offhis engine and swung his long legsto the ground. The dust from theother ship settled, and the wirySurete major bounced from hiscockpit.

"Sacre bleu!" he sputtered. "Itis a wonder you did not pick the roofof the house to land on."

"I thought I'd get down beforeyou took another pot-shot at me,"said Strange, drily.

Andre grimaced.

"Mon ami, I beg a thousandpardons. I received a wirelessmessage supposed to be from thathuman bull-dog chief of yours sayinghe and you were flying to Sautney ina Breguet. I thought you were beingattacked by a Hun in a capturedSpad. It is a good thing my aim wasnot better, n'est-ce pas?"

"No argument there," saidStrange. "For a second I thoughtFrance had declared me anundesirable alien. But we'd better goback to the house and look into thisother matter. From the attempt theymade to get rid of us, it must besomething important."

"I hope so," retorted Andre,twisting his ruffled mustaches backinto shape. "Especially when I followyou like a lunatic and almost breakmy neck landing on this cowpath."

They started along the lane.

"I know nothing about thisMeade case," Strange told the littlemajor. "Perhaps you know thedetails?"

Andre shook his head.

"Only what your colonelphoned us that he was relaying toyou. Meade was working on thesame thing which has driven us allhalf mad. But yon were in Parisbefore '14—you may recall ourtrouble with Monsieur le Diable?"


"You mean that phantom thiefwho mocked the police? Yes, Iremember—he first broke into printwhen he stole the guillotine after ithad been set up for an execution atBourg."

Andre made a wry face.

"That was only half of it. Healso stole the executioner, thoughwe managed to keep that quiet."

"An original rascal," Strangechuckled.

"Too much so," lamentedAndre. "He was like the lightning—one never knew where he wouldstrike, or what insane thing he woulddo next. One night, he robs some fatold miser and leaves a dozen clues.We rush along the trail, and then—Pardieu! We find ourselves in acemetery, and there is a bottle ofchampagne and one of his impudentnotes: 'Something to refresh you,messieurs, after your arduouschase.'"

"Good wine?" inquiredStrange.

"How am I to know?" growledAndre. "The Prefect drank it—after ithad been tested for poison."

"And you never had an inklingas to who he was?"

"Inkling? Nom d'un nom! Wefind fingerprints—and they turn out tobelong to me, Andre, and I have onefine time of it proving I am not this M.Devil. We hear he is at the Gare duNord. We rush there, and while wesearch the Brussels Express hemakes off with the engine andescapes. The engine is found, withthe driver and the stoker bound, on asiding near La ChapeIIe. The men

say they were overcome by an oldman with a white beard, who had aprodigious strength. Our miser tellsus that Monsieur Ie Diable is youngand thin and redheaded, and anothersays he is tall and dark as an Arab.The Surete despairs—we expect atany moment to hear he has made offwith the Eiffel Towel or the Arc deTriomphe. Then the war comes andwe hear no more of him—that is,until ten days ago."

"So that's why Jordan wasafraid of having his pants stolen,"observed Strange.

"Oui, but it is no laughingmatter, Strange. This crazy thief hasupset the whole war. He makes foolsof us and Germany both, and for noreason. One morning a turnkey findsthree German colonels locked in acell at Vincennes, and they swearthey went to sleep in their quarters atThionville and have no idea how theygot across the lines and into ourprison. Then we find a card saying,'With the compliments of Monsieur IeDiable.' Next day this monster makesoff with three of our colonels—andwe learn they have turned up in aBoche prison."

Strange laughed outright.Andre looked at him sourly.

"You will not think it so funny,mon ami, when your superiors haveyou up for not finding this M. Devil.

They are all quaking in theirboots, and they take it out on theIntelligence. Me, I am about to beshot or reduced to a private. But ihave told you only a hint of it. M. IeDiable. does not confine himself tocolonels. He steals a civilian officialin Barle-duc after dinner, and a


drunken sous-officier in Nancybefore midnight. Between then andtwo o'clock he makes off with themiddle section of a pontoon bridgeacross the Mouse River, and no onehas found it yet. He steals a portablebarracks set up one night in the Boisde Varine. It is to be a secretheadquarters for a division, andwhen the officers come in themorning there is not a sign of thebuilding —only a stake with one ofM. Devil's cards on it. Next day thebuilding is found set up fortykilometers away, in the middle ofanother woods. Within is discoveredan escadrille pilot who had been aGerman prisoner for six months. Hewas in irons, and he had the samestory of going to sleep in Germanyand waking up in France."

"Almost incredible," Strangemuttered.

"If you do not believe me,"Andre bristled, "I can show you theevidence."

"I said 'almost incredible,'"Strange reminded him.

"At first thought, there seemsno possible motive, but there mustbe something powerful back of it."

"But he strikes at the Boche,too," objected Andre, "and there isno military value to anything hesteals from us—not even our threecolonels. In fact, M. Ie Diable did usa favor there," he added with achuckle.

Strange looked at himthoughtfully as they strode along thehot, dusty road.

"There's a curious pattern toall this, Andre. If only we could see

the main thread—but perhaps we'lllearn something here to help us."

THEY were almost to thefisherman's house, and as theyturned in from the lane Strange sawa stooped and weazened figure inpatched corduroy waiting for them atthe gate. There was somethingpathetic in the look of relief whiehcrossed the old man's face as theyapproached.

"Mon pere," said Andre, "I amof the military. You are GeorgesLamotte?"

"Oui, oui," quavered the oldman. His rheumy eyes lookedpleadingly from Andre to Strange."Please, messieurs, take that awfulone out of my house, messieurs. Ibegged the gendarme not to put himin there—"

"Where is the gendarmenow?" Strange interrupted.

"He went away on his motorcycle, m'sieu, when the fight in theair began. He was very much afraidwhen he saw the areoplanes."

Andre and Strange lookedquickly at each other.

"Show us the body," the brisklittle major ordered.

The old fisherman cowered.

“Non, non—do not make melook at it again. Even now I will beafraid to sleep there after—"

"Vite!" snapped Andre. "Adead man can't hurt you."

Whimpering, the old man ledthem toward the house. They wentup onto a rickety porch at the left,


beyond which steps led down to theboat landing, where a weatherbeatendory moved sluggishly with thecurrent. Lamotte opened a door andlimped inside. There were only tworooms, a kitchen at the front and abedroom at the rear. The old manshuffled to the bedroom door, thenstopped with a gasp.

"The dead man! He was onthe floor—and now he is in mychair!"

Andre was a step in front of

Strange. He sprang past the oldfisherman, then Strange saw hisswarthy face turn pale.

"Nom de Dieu!" he whispered."What terrible thing is this?"

Strange halted in thedoorway, transfixed at the sightbefore him. The descending sun,slanting through a western window,made a bright rectangle, and framedin that ruddy glare was a shiningblack corpse!

It had been propped up in arocking-chair, and at first glance ithad the appearance of a gruesomestatue painted black. But thedreadful angle of the head, and thelimpness of the dangling arms toldthe grim secret. Under that horribleshiny blackness was a human body.

For a moment longer, Strangestood gazing down at the dead man.From head to foot, face, uniform andboots, he was that same glisteningblack—even to his thick, closedeyelids and the matted hair whichshowed under a tight-strappedhelmet. His lips and nostrils weresealed by the queer dark substance,but through the layer which blurredhis features Strange caughtsomething familiar.

"Andre!" he said swiftly."Come over on this side— look at hisface."

The Surete major appeared toawake from a daze. He camearound past the trembling fisherman,stared at the dead man’s profile.

“Pardieu!” he said inamazement. “It’s Franz Schermann– the leading ace of Germany’s 55th

Staffel!”

Strange slowly nodded. Hewas bending closer over theblackened figure when Andre gaveanother exclamation and snatchedup something from the floor. It was asmall card which had apparentlyfallen from one arm of the rocker.

Andre's dark eyes almostpopped from their sockets as hestared at it. With a groan, he handedit to Strange. At the top wasembossed a tiny red devil, a mockinggrin on its face. Underneath, several


words had been printed in pencil: "Agift to my old friend Andre, fromMonsieur Ie Diable."

Strange read the wordswithout a change of expression, butas he looked down at the deadGerman ace he shuddered. For thatblack figure in the chair seemed intruth a gift from the Devil.

CHAPTER II – CORPSE FIRE

ANDRE suddenly turned tothe old fisherman. "This gendarme—describe him—where did he comefrom?"

"He was a big man, andfierce," faltered Lamotte. "I am notsure, m'sieu, where he was from. Hewas here when I came back from thevillage, after I found the— the body.Jacques, the storekeeper, hadtelephoned to Lemieres for police, sohe must have come from there. Hewas very angry when he sawJacques and the others who cameback with me, and he told them to goaway or he would arrest them. Thenhe made me get a plank and helphim carry the dead man on it, andafter that he told me to go outside.When he heard the first aeroplane,he ran out and was very frightened.When the others came and fought hejumped onto his motorcycle and rodeaway."

"In which direction?" snappedAndre.

"To the west, m'sieu Ieofficier, where the lane goes throughthe woods. Can I go now? I have toldyou everything."

"You have not described thegendarme," Andre said impatiently."Was he young or old, fair or dark,smooth-faced or bearded?"

Lamotte wrinkled hisforehead.

"I think, m'sieu, he wasnearing forty, and he was very red-faced because he was angry. Therewas no hair on his face, that I amsure. I did not look much at himbecause he made me afraid."

Strange turned from a closeinspection of the corpse.

"The gendarme used gloveswhen he washed the mud from thebody, didn't he?"

The old man lookedastonished.

"Oui, but how did you knowabout—"

"What was his reason?"Strange cut him short.

"I suppose to keep his handsclean," Lamotte said helplessly."When I found the body, it wasfloating not far offshore. I hooked itwith my boat-hook and towed itashore. The bank is quite muddy—"the old man's words trailed off as hiseyes went toward the dead man. Hesprang back with a cry, then fledwildly from the house.

Strange and Andre wheeledto see the cause for his fright. Bothof them took a step backward, for thechair with the corpse was rocking.

"Name of a saint!" mutteredAndre. "In another moment I shallrun out of here also.”

"It must have been a little puffof wind," Strange answered. He


stared at the blackened figure. "I'dgive a lot to know why our gendarmepropped him up in that chair.”

Andre wiped his moist face.

"Let's go outside, mon ami.The room is stifling, and the sight ofthat wretched Boche is making me alittle sick."

"Wait," said Strange. "I'd liketo find what this black stuff is."

He folded his handkerchief,rubbed at the dead man's cheek.The dark substance was warm fromthe sun, and its firm, waxy surfacesoftened a little under his pressure,but only a smudge came off on thecloth. He rubbed again, and this timesaw he had taken off the shiny outerlayer. He looked up at Andre.

"Did you ever see a vat of thematerial from which phonographrecords are made? The stuff is hotand plastic, and it hardens like this."

Andre started.

"You don't mean this Bochehas been dipped into such a vat?"

"He might have fallen intoone, though it seems—"

Strange held the smudgedhandkerchief to his nose.

"No, it isn't that, either. I knowthe odor of that record material—it'sa mineral composition, sometimeswith resin and shellac in it. This odoris entirely different, and yet it'svaguely familiar. I'd like to analyzesome of the stuff in a laboratory."

"I can arrange to have thebody taken to your Second CorpsHeadquarters," said Andre. "Butnow, let us get out of this place."

HE moved to the door, haltedwith a jerk. The chair was rockingagain.

"It's a loose board—youstepped on it just now," said Strange.Then he stared at the little major."Lamotte must have known aboutthat board. I believe he rocked thechair purposely so he'd have anexcuse to duck out of here."

"Eh bien, I can hardly blamehim," said Andre, but Strangehurriedly made for the porch.

"Lamotte lied to us," he said ina low tone. "He knew the chair wasplaced exactly in the right spot tomake it rock. That means he was inthere when it was done— and hemay have done it himself."

They went out onto the porch.At first glance, there was no sign ofthe old fisherman, then a sprawledform halfway under the boat-landingsteps caught Strange's eye. He randown, with Andre after him, andturned the man over. It was Lamotte.He had been dealt a fierce blow onthe head, but he was alive.

"Watch the front of thehouse," Strange said to Andre, "whileI try to bring the old man around.Whoever did this can't be far away."

He carried the unconsciousfisherman out into the sun. As he laidhim down Lamotte's muddy shoesfell off. A startled look came into hisface as he eyed the old fisherman'sclothes. He whirled to shout toAndre, but the cry died on his lips,for a stream of black smoke waspouring from the opened bedroomwindow.


As he ran toward the houseAndre dashed around from in front.The little major's breathlessexclamation was lost as red flamesuddenly burst from the billowingsmoke. The side of the houseinstantly blazed, and smoke beganto pour from the front and rearwindows. By the time Strange andAndre reached the other side almostthe whole building was in flames.

"Stay here—I'll watch the sidetoward the woods," Strange rappedout. "I don't think anyone's in there,but we'll make certain."

He rushed back to the spotwhere he had left Lamotte, andmoved the old man farther from theblaze. With growing amazement hewatched the burning house. Theflames were a veritable rainbow ofvivid colors, giving a dreadful beautyto the inferno. The intense heatforced him to move Lamotte stillfarther away. The fire leaped to theboat-landing, to the dory, to thenearest trees. Then, abruptly, therainbow flames died, and a thin whitesmoke took their place. Withastonishment, he saw that only alayer of ashes remained where thehouse had been. Andre ran aroundto where he stood.

"Mon Dieu!" he said hoarsely."What kind of hell-fire was that? Thehouse burned completely in lessthan a minute."

Strange gazed silently at thesmoking ashes. He could seenothing of the corpse.

"It must have been a new kindof incendiary bomb," Andre went onin a dazed voice. "The man whostruck down Lamotte must have

thrown the bomb through anotherwindow while we were coming out,and then escaped into the woods."

Strange shook his head, wentto the river bank and took out hishandkerchief. He wadded it tightlyand rolled it in mud until it was wellcovered. Andre looked at him withhis mouth wide open.

"Have you lost your senses?The house burns— We lose theblack corpse—and you stop to makemud balls!"

Strange glanced along thelane. Several villagers were runningtoward the spot, evidently havingseen the brief blaze.

"Stay with Lamotte until theyget here," he said to Andre. "Don'texplain anything but barestessentials. I'll get our engines going."

He started on, paused andtook out his wallet.

"Here," he said, pressingsome bills into Andre's hand, "putthis money in the old man's pocketand tell the villagers his house will berebuilt in a few days."

"But, mon ami, why shouldyou do this?" exclaimed Andre.

"Because if I hadn't been sostupid," Strange retorted, "his housewould still be standing."

He hurried on before thepuzzled Frenchman could speak. Ashe passed the ruins of the buildinghe looked toward the space wherethe rocking-chair had been. Amongthe gray-white ashes were streaks ofrainbow colors. The faint outline ofthat queer, colored spot was like theshape of a human body.


* * * *IT was nearly sundown when

the two ships nosed down toward theSecond Corps field outside ofChaloncourt, though they had flownat full throttle since the moment oftaking off from the lane. Strangelooked across at Andre, then for thehundredth time searched the sky.There was no sign of planes,German or Allied. He drew a breathof relief, for he had expected adifferent reception.

He glanced down at the Corpsdrome, six thousand feet below, thensat up quickly. Ships were dartingacross the field, one after another, inhasty take-offs. He flung anotherlook about the sky, raised one handto his eyes to peer through hisfingers at the sun. Vague, flittingshapes suddenly became visibleagainst that blazing red disk. Hethrew a frantic signal to Andre andrammed the throttle open.

The vague shapes became ina flash the wings of hurtling Fokkers.

Consternation swept over Strange.There were at least two dozen of thecoffin-nosed fighters!

It was too late to dive for thefield, and to fight meant a swiftdeath. With stick hard back, hezoomed for the clouds. Andre'sNieuport was already streaking upfor their protection. As the threeleading Germans shot up to interceptthe fleeing ships, Strange hammereda burst across the cowl of the first D-7, and the Boche kicked into a skid.Andre plunged at the middle Fokker,and for a taut instant Strangethought they would crash head-on.

But the Nieuport zoomed atthe last second, and a riddledGerman fell over the Fokker's stick.Five more D-7's were drilling up atfurious speed, Spandaus blazingmadly. Tracers from three directionssmoked through Strange's wings.The right-hand aileron jerked under ahail of lead, and fabric streamedback in ragged strips. Strangepitched the Spad between twoGermans, dived under a third. Thedive hurled him straight at a fourth D-7. He pumped a blast into theFokker's nose, and the German'sbelching Spandaus were lost in agust of flame from the strickenengine.

Andre was almost in theclouds, with three Boche climbingfiercely after him. Strange pulled upbehind the flamer, so close that hefelt the heat as he zoomed. A plumeof greasy smoke had billowed backover the Fokker. He jerked the Spadup into it, and the murderous poundof bullets for the moment slackened.

It was but a second, thatreprieve, but it gave him a chance for


life. He twisted sharply in his climb,and the Spad came out at right-angles to its former position. Five orsix Germans shot by, banking hastilyto bring him under their guns. But theclouds were hardly two hundred feetabove him now, and only a single D-7 was between him and safety.

The lone Boche whippedaround sharply, and Strange saw theinsignia on the side of his fuselage. Itwas a ship of the 65th Staffel—thesquadron to which Schermann hadbelonged. The Spandaus beat out avenomous rat-a-tat as the Germancrouched behind the guns. Bulletstore through an outer strut of theSpad, and the slug-riddled fightertrembled. With a prayer that thecracked strut would hold, Strangebanked tightly. Two more Fokkerswere charging in, but he held to theturn until his almost empty gunsraked over the other ship's tail.

Tracers suddenly probed fromthe edge of the clouds, and Andredropped squarely on the first of thetwo charging Germans. The D-7went over onto its nose, its tail shotclear off. The second one hurriedlytwisted aside, and Andre pulled backin a wild zoom which scattered twomore Fokkers. Strange saw the firstfilmy haze of a cloud spread over theSpad. With Spandaus blazing fromevery direction, he pulled on up intothe shrouding mists. Turning slowly,he leveled out and flew blindlythrough the darkening cloud.

NOT until then did he realizethat there was blood on his face. Thecompass had been shot to pieces,and flying glass had cut his jaw.There was a numb spot along his

right thigh, and for a moment hethought he had been shot. He lookeddown and saw where his Army .45had been hammered against his legby the impact of a bullet The slughad hit squarely on the heavy gun,and the impact had driven the barrelagainst his leg.

The Spad was a flying junk-heap, and from the uneven pound .ofthe Hisso he knew it would not beflying much longer. He eased backthe throttle, made a quick estimate.The scene at the moment he hadentered the cloud was like aphotograph etched on his memory,even to the streets of Chaloncourt.The Corps field had been aboutthree miles east, and there had beenmore than a dozen ships in the air,climbing to engage the Fokkers. Hehad turned east at that last second.He kept the Spad flying as straightas possible for several minutes, thencautiously nosed down.

He came out a trifle north ofwhere he had expected to emerge,but at his calculated distance of fivemiles eastward. There was no onenear him, and he could see that theGermans were giving way under anattack by two Allied squadrons. Hestarted down in a careful glide,watching the half-broken strut. Atthree thousand feet he saw Andre'sNieuport poke its nose warily fromthe clouds, like a mouse coming outof a hole. The Frenchman spiraleddown beside the Spad, and togetherthey made for the Corps field. Theywere just below two thousand feetwhen from somewhere beyondChaloncourt a rocket shot up andburst into three blue stars.


The German Jagdstaffelinstantly broke from the fight andraced away to the east, followed bysome of the Allied planes. AsStrange leveled off to land, part of aSpad squadron swept down towardthe field. He saw two ships flyingseparately. They dived for thedrome, zoomed recklessly acrossthe hangars, and looped at threehundred feet before his ship hadeven stopped rolling. Andre was justtaxiing up beside him on the linewhen the two Spads landed. Heshoved up his goggles and looked atthe numbers on the Spads as theyrumbled closer. A brief amusementcame into his eyes as he saw thepilots. If Tom and Noisy Jay had evertaken the war seriously, they hadmanaged to conceal that fact. Theywere the same wisecracking twinshe had seen do ventriloquism andmagic acts in vaudeville before thewar. Service with G-2 and pompousBrass Hats had failed to changethem.

Noisy was the first torecognize him as he climbed out ofthe bullet-torn Spad. He leaped fromhis cockpit with a joyful yelp.•

"Well, I'll be a flat-footedhoofer! Hey, Tom—look who'shere!"

Tom dashed across, areckless, likable youngster in exactduplicate of Noisy except that hisgrin was a trifle less impudent.

"Phil!" he said, seizingStrange's hand. "Where did y6u popfrom? I thought you were still in Italy,stuffing yourself with spaghetti."

Then both the twins for thefirst time noticed the condition ofStrange's Spad and Andre'sNieuport.

"So you were the birds thoseKrauts were after," exclaimed Tom. "Iwondered who—say, are you hurt?"

Strange shook his head.

"Just a nick. Andre, are you allright?"

The little major climbedgingerly from his plane.

"Oui, except for a case ofheart failure," he responded. "Ithought at first the whole German AirForce was after us. I have neverbeen a praying man— but I made upfor it today."

Noisy whistled as he surveyedthe tattered ships.

"Boy, that's what I call awelcome home party. You could usethose wings for porous plasters."

An important-looking officerpushed his way through a group ofstaring mechanics, and Strangerecognized Lieutenant Peck, one ofthe G-2 men stationed atChaloncourt. Peck saluted briskly.

"Captain Neville," he said,using Strange's customarypseudonym in G.H.Q., "ColonelJordan would like to see you andMajor Andre at once."

Strange nodded, motioned tothe Jay twins.

"Better come along, you two—I've a hunch you're going to beneeded."

Twenty minutes later, in theprivacy of an Intelligence office,


Strange finished his hastyexplanation to the chunky G-2colonel. Jordan's bulldog featureshad taken on a stunned look as hedescribed the mysterious blackcorpse.

"Good Lord!" he whispered."Maybe that's what happened to thestolen Allied pilots."

"Stolen pilots?" Strangeexclaimed. "Andre didn't tell meabout that."

"It began only last night, andthe reports have just come in."Jordan looked grimly across his deskat the taller man. "Strange, in twentyhours that fiend has robbed theAllies of as many aces—and he'sthreatened to take them all!"

CHAPTER III – THE VANISHED

COLONELS

STRANGE gazed at himthrough the smoke of his cigarette."So they're finally coming out in theopen," he muttered.

"Who do you mean by they?'"snapped Jordan.

"The Germans, naturally,"said Strange. "You know that no oneman could have done all thesethings. And second, only the Bochecould have a strong enough motive."

"But they've been hit as hardas we have," protested Jordan. "TheAllied Intelligence Pool has a list ofequally crazy stunts which thisMonsieur Ie Diable has pulled inGermany. I know they're facts,because our agents have checkedup on a lot of them—and we have

about twenty-five Boche prisonerswho were deposited in various partsof France by that lunatic."

"I'd like to see that list—alsothe record of things which havehappened on our side," said Strange.

"Beeding will be here with thelatter record in the next. thirtyminutes," returned Jordan. "AndColonel de Souey is going to meetme here with the Pool report. Hesent word he had a clue to theidentity of Monsieur Ie Diable."

"With no disrespect to mycommander," Andre interposed, "Iwould not expect too much from thatclue. Colonel de Soucy always has aclue, but unfortunately it has a habitof leading into empty space."

"I can think of a similar case inG-2," said Strange.

The Jays snickered, andJordan glared.

"That's a fine way to talkabout me, after I let you loaf in Italyall this time."

Strange laughed.

"I didn't mean you, colonel—Iwas thinking of Lieutenant-ColonelBeeding."

Jordan looked at himsuspiciously.

"Well, in that case I," hereddened, cleared his throat. "Can'thave such talk about senior officers!Never mind about Beeding, I broughtyou back to help me. We'relaunching an offensive at dawn inSector Three and we'll need everyavailable pilot."

Strange sobered.


"How were those acesabducted, colonel?"

"We don't know," growledJordan. "They simply disappeared.Three of them—Americans—wereon leave in Paris. They didn't showup this morning at their squadron,but their S.C. got a letter with one ofthose red devil cards and the threepilots' names written on it. We lostseven more aces during the night—two at Barle-duc, and the rest fromdifferent squadrons. They were lastseen at estaminets or on their way to

a binge or something. In each case,one of Monsieur Ie Diable's cardsturned up. And it was the same withthe French and British pilots whodisappeared."

"And the threat to steal all theaces?" queried Strange.

Jordan scowled.

"Somebody left the messageon Beeding's desk—he thought itwas one of the G.H.Q. orderlies, butwe cleared the man. It was signed bythis phantom thief and it said hefound the company of Allied aces so

inspiring he thought he would collectall of them for his personalentertainment. But I've worked out ascheme to fix Mr. Devil. I'm going tocreate two more ace-trains, andthey'll be armored cars and guardedwith machine-guns."

Strange squashed out hiscigarette.

"I didn't know we had any ace-trains. When did you start that?"

"About a month ago. It wasGeneral Thorne's idea; the Bochehas been jumping the RichthofenCircus all around and shooting theminto a sector tor a day and then intoanother one twenty-four hours later,upsetting our morale all along theFront. So Thorne made up asquadron of aces and we put themon a train with the coaches paintedlike hospital cars. The train moveson secret orders by wireless fromG.H.Q. and the pilots live on boardall the time. Just before dawn, theyhop into cars at some railway siding,and rush to the nearest squadron.They take over the squadron's shipsand raise hell in that sector for a fewhours and then get back on the trainand pull the same trick a hundredkilometers away next day."

"Nice set-up for the pilots theyleave behind," Strange said dryly.

"It doesn't hurt them," Jordangrunted. "The aces clean up theBoche so that our men have a tophand for a while. And it's thrown akink into the Richthofen Circus idea."

"Where's that train now?"Strange asked him.

"On its way here from a sidingnear Base Hospital Two. We've side-


tracked it close to different hospitalsseveral times so it would look on thelevel, and had the pilots driven to thenearest squadron. They're cominghere to be ready for the offensive—that's why that extra Spad squadronwas flown up here. But forget aboutthat for a minute. This businessabout the black corpse worries me. Ifthat story spreads, and Allied acesthink they're in for the same thing—"

"The most important matternow," Strange interrupted, "is to getthis to a chemist."

HE took the mud ball from hisflying-coat pocket. It had beensomewhat flattened, but thehandkerchief did not show through.Colonel Jordan looked at it andturned an angry red.

"See here, Strange, I'm in nomood for jokes!"

"I'm not joking," Strangereplied calmly. He explained aboutthe smear on the handkerchief. "It'sobvious that the black substance ishighly imflammable when exposed toheat. That's why the corpse waspropped up in the sun, sospontaneous combustion would set iton fire and burn down the house,destroying all the evidence. Ananalysis of that smear may give usthe key to the whole thing."

"And old Lamotte might havegiven us a lead," Andre cut in tartly,"if you had not made me hurry off."

"He couldn't have helped us,"Strange answered. "He may noteven' have seen the gendarme."

Andre's black eyes popped.

"Where is your faultlessmemory? He described the man andhow he ran away when the shipscame."

Strange started to reply, butthere was a quick knock, andLieutenant Peck hurried into theroom.

"Colonel de Soucy has justarrived by plane, Colonel Jordan," herattled off briskly. "He asked to seeyou alone, and he's waiting in theconference room."

Jordan strode out after a wordfor Strange and the others to remainin the office. Strange turned to Peck.

"Any luck on that check-up Iasked you to make about the manwho fired the blue rocket?"

Peck swelled importantly.

"I have three men on thecase, sir. There are several people inChaloncourt already under suspicionof espionage activities, and weshould soon tag the guilty man withthis as a clue."

"H-m-m," said Strange. "Youand Beeding, eh?"

"Begging the captain'spardon?" said Peck, nonplussed.

"Let it go," Strange held outthe mud ball. "Take this to thechemistry lab. There's ahandkerchief inside, and a blacksmear on the handkerchief. I wantthe smear analyzed. Tell the chemistnot to get it near any heat."

Peck looked disapprovingly atthe wad of mud, reluctantly took it upin his dainty fingers. Holding it awayfrom him, he went toward the door.Suddenly a low buzzing sounded,


apparently from inside the mud ball.Peck dropped it and leaped backwith a yell.

Strange looked at the Jaytwins, whose faces showed a blissfulinnocence.

"It's all right, lieutenant," hesaid to Peck. "One of these twoidiots was just brushing up on hisventriloquism. You have mypermission to punch his nose —ifyou can pick out the right one."

"I should prefer to ignore suchpersons," Peck replied frigidly. Hepicked up the mud ball and stalkedfrom the room, a picture of outragedmajesty.

"Consider yourselvessquelched," Strange said to the Jays,who were now grinning from ear toear. "And if you can drag your mindsdown to such unimportant things asthe war, do you know anything aboutthis Monsieur Ie Diable?"

"Only what we just heard,"said Tom. "We knew something hadthe Brass Hats running in circles, butColonel Jordan had us on anotherjob, down at Marseilles. They've keptit pretty well covered up, or we'dhave known about it."

Strange turned to Andre.

"I hope your friend de Soucyreally has some information thistime."

"At least, something hasgalvanized him into life," said thelittle major. "It must be of importance,for him to risk his precious neck in aplane."

"Then he's never flownbefore?" Strange asked sharply.

"Never," replied Andre. "And Iwager he insisted on Fonck, HenriDornay, or another of the other greatones to pilot him—why, what iswrong?"

Strange had sprung to thedoor.

"Come on!" he clipped out, "Imay be mistaken, but we'll take nochances."

Andre and the Jays dashedafter him as he ran toward theconference room. Officers andorderlies stared as they raced by.Strange halted before a large door,seized the knob. The door waslocked.

"Colonel Jordan!" he shouted.

There was no answer. Heshouted again, then stepped backand lunged at the door. The Jaysleaped to help him, and on the thirdattempt the door burst open. Onewindow was open and the room wasempty. Strange snatched up a cardfrom the long conference table. Itbore the red devil symbol andunderneath was scrawled:

"Received: Two moth-eatencolonels —Monsieur Ie Diable."

STRANGE whirled to theofficers who came running into theroom. "Turn out the guard! Flash analarm not to let anyone off the post!"

"But what's the matter?"gasped a bald-headed major.

"Matter?" howled Andre."Monsieur Ie Diable has stolen thechiefs of French and AmericanIntelligence!"


Pandemonium broke loose,and the officers scattered, yelling fororderlies. Strange ran to the window,shouted at an enlisted man crossingthe three-sided court.

"Did you see anyone justleave the compound?"

The man hurried toward him.

"A car almost ran me down,sir—it came out of here a minuteago."

"What kind?" rapped Strange."Which way did it go?"

"It was a big Staff car, sir—aclosed Packard. I think it wenttoward Chaloncourt."

Strange spun around to Andreand the Jays.

"They've probably passed thesentries already. We'll have to spot itfrom the air. Tom, get out there andhave a D.H. started—I want one withwireless equipment and interphones.Noisy, you run to the wireless roomand be ready to relay Andre'sdirections by phone to Chaloncourtand all the road patrols."

The Jays sprinted down thehall. Strange wheeled to the bald-headed major who had remained inthe room.

"Conroy, warn everyone in thesearch —the road patrolsespecially—to stop that car even ifthey see Pershing himself in there!"

"But I can't order that!" Conroysaid, aghast.

"It won't be Pershing,"snapped Strange. "Karl von Zenden,the notorious spy called the 'Man ofa Thousand Faces,' is in that car.Don't let him trick you!"

Conroy gulped, hastilydeparted.

Strange made for thecompound, with

Andre trotting breathlesslybeside him.

"Do you think von Zenden isMonsieur Ie Diable?" the little majordemanded.

"No," Strange tossed back,"but he's impersonating your M.Devil, that's certain. And he playedthe role of Lamotte, too."

"Mon Dieu!" groaned Andre."If this gets any worse I shall gomad. And to think of it, stealingcolonels like so many sacks ofpotatoes!"

A D.H. was being hastilywarmed up, and several Spads hadbeen started when they reached thehangars. Strange singled out TomJay as he buckled on a helmet withearphones.

"Tell the pilots to spread out ina ten mile circle and cover all roads."

He vaulted into the front pit ofthe D.H. as Tom yelled an answer.Andre tumbled in behind him, andmechanics pulled the chocks. Theship was already turned for takingoff. He opened the throttle, and thebellowing Liberty hurled the heavyplane down the field. As the D.H.climbed, he banked over thehighway to Chaloncourt. It wasalmost twilight, but there was stillenough afterglow for him to seealong the winding road. Motorcyclesfrom the base were racing towardthe town, and he could see two orthree supply trucks but not thefleeing Staff car. He then banked


toward a highway which skirtedChaloncourt.

Suddenly Andre thumped athis back, stabbed his finger toward acrossroads. A car had stopped at theintersection. As Strange noseddown, the Frenchman swerved thetourelle. A burst smoked down infothe highway, kicked up dirt ahundred feet from the machine. Thecar lunged to one side, made a wildturn away from the town. Strange,peering down intently, saw that itwas a khaki-colored Dodge touring-car. Before he could warn Andre, theSurete major pounded out anotherblast. The driver of the A.E. F. carskidded into a ditch and jumped out.As he ran for cover, a portly officerclambered from the rear andfollowed, shaking his fist at the D.H.Strange hurriedly curved away.

"Hold on, Andre!" he shoutedinto the interphone speaker-horn."That's Colonel Beeding."

"But maybe it is von Zendenmasquerading," yelled Andre.

"No, it's the wrong car—wait!that man in the compound mighthave been planted to put us on thewrong track! Call Noisy—tell him tohave all cars stopped andsearched—even the trucks!"

While Andre pounded the key,Strange dived over the Dodge again.He plunged so close that he couldtell there was no one else in themachine. Beeding and the driverwere huddled under a tree.Convinced of their identity, hezoomed, turned to follow the northroad.

"Any report from Corps?" hesaid anxiously.

"Coming now," replied Andre.There was a click in Strange'sphones, as the Frenchman cut him inon the receiving circuit. Hemechanically translated the swiftflood of dots and dashes, while hewatched the road. The message ran:

"All roads blocked. No sign ofPackard. M.P.'s searchingChaloncourt. All trucks and carsbeing stopped."

Strange peered over the sideof the cockpit. Lights were flashingon all the roads, and Corpsmotorcycles were speeding back andforth. He looked over the other side,toward the town. A train was justpulling in from the northwest, and fora second he thought it was the ace-train, then he recalled that Base

Hospital Two was in the otherdirection. Evidently this one was asupply train returning empty from thearea where the offensive. was to belaunched.

SOMETHING tugged at theback of his memory, somethingconnected with that railway. Abruptlyhe remembered. In that photographicglimpse of the Corps base, before he


had zoomed away from the GermanStaffel, he had seen one of the newFrench Diesel-driven railway carspulling onto a siding. The sidetrackhad been one of several leading tothe supply sheds and tents at thesouthern end of the base. He bankedhastily and flew back over the tracks.

"What now?" demandedAndre.

Strange crisply explained.Andre gave an exclamation.

"That must have been deSoucy's private car! He was using itin this sector."

"Unless I'm way off, vonZenden's using it now," Strangeanswered. "Watch for it when I dropa flare."

He jerked the release, andbright light spread through thedarkening sky. As he nosed down,he saw that the Diesel car was gone,and in the same moment Andrepointed excitedly along the tracks.Strange looked, saw the Staffautomobile. It had been driven ahundred yards along one track,straddling the rails, and wasobviously abandoned. Searcherscrossing the tracks farther downwould have failed to see it in thegloom, even if they had glanced upthe tracks.

"You're right, mon ami!" Andreburst out. "But which way did theygo?"

Strange rammed open thethrottle, heading south.

"They had to go this way—they'd have run into that supply trainif they'd gone north. Call Corpsagain, tell them about this and to

rush a flight of Spads down thisway."

Andre bent over the key.Strange kept the Liberty wide open,holding the two-seater at a hundredfeet. Von Zenden would undoubtedlytransfer his prisoners to anautomobile at the first opportunity,but at this speed there was a goodchance of overtaking the car first.The lights of a signal tower flashedtoward them, disappeared behindthe thundering ship. Strange spokequickly into the interphone horn.

"Andre—ask Noisy the calland wavelength of the ace-trainwireless. Call the train and warnthem to be on the lookout!"

"Noisy has already thought ofit,"

Andre exclaimed. "He iscalling the train now. We can listento what they answer."

Strange's phone clicked, andhe caught part of the Corpsmessage:

"—and be ready to stop theDiesel car. Use care, as capturedStaff officers aboard."

Almost at once the answercame from the ace-train wireless:

"Just passed semaphoretower 97. Will stop and back train soas to switch to south-bound trackand block Diesel car. Phone tower97 orders to—"

There was a break, then acrazy jumble of dot and dash signalsfrom which Strange caught a fewbroken words:

"Help! Train .... locked in . . . .train being . . . ."


One last signal buzzed intothe phones, as though somethinghad fallen on the key of the trainwireless, then it ended.

"Sacre bleu!" cried Andre."What can have happened?"

"Call them again!" Strangerapped out.

The little Frenchman poundedthe key. Strange listened anxiouslyas

Andre switched to thereceiving circuit, but an ominoussilence was tha only answer.

CHAPTER IV – RAINBOW OF DEATH

“HOW far are we from Tower97?"

Strange said into interphone.

"About twenty-fourkilometers," came Andre's hastyreply. "The train is between thereand Amoins, and so must be theDiesel car, for there is Amoinsahead, and no sign of the car."

The D.H. thundered over thetracks which pierced the Frenchtown. There were sidings on rightand left, and freight cars beingloaded from ware-houses, for thiswas one of the new supply bases forthe A.E.F. It was dark, but men withlanterns waved excitedly along thesouth track, and Strange surmisedthat the stolen Diesel car had racedthrough the base before the theft hadbeen reported.

Amoins fell away behind theroaring two-seater, and Strangeclimbed a trifle higher to be sure ofnot hitting telegraph poles. None of

the Spads was visible, but he knewthey might be nearby, unseen in thedeepening gloom. The tracks curved,straightened to cross a longdrawbridge across the MolaineRiver. There was a hill beyond, butStrange kept low, flying through a cutwhich had been made for therailway.

"Only eight kilometers more!"Andre said tensely. "We should seethe train in a minute or so."

He had hardly finished whenhigh over the hills ahead there was abrilliant flash. A streak of rainbow fireshot across the sky, like the tail of acomet. It came apparently fromnowhere, but it struck squarely intothe wings of a diving Spad. Like amoth flying into a candle, the Spadblazed and plunged to the ground,streams of colored fire pluming afterit. So dazzling was the flame thatStrange could see nothing beyond.He heard Andre cry out in horror, asa second streak of the mysteriousfire flashed across the heavens. TwoSpads, one a Yankee ship, the otherpainted a bright red, were whirlingfrenziedly away from the rainbowflame. The streak of fire curvedtoward the khaki-colored Spad, andthe wings blazed. The pilot leapedup in his cock-pit, dived from theflaming ship.

Suddenly, the rainbow streakwhipped toward the falling man. Itmissed him by at least twenty feet,but weird colored flames instantlyenveloped his tumbling figure.Strange shuddered. The mysteriousstream of fire swerved back towardthe red Spad, but the pilot wildlyrenversed and escaped. As abruptly


as it had appeared the rainbowstreak vanished.

Strange had zoomed to threehundred feet, twisting away from theflaming Spad. The burning figure ofthe unfortunate pilot struck on theside of the hill and fire spreadthrough the grass. As the D.H.banked around above the river,Andre gave a shout. Strange flung aglance upward. By the glare of thefalling flamer he saw a trio of blackHalberstadt two-seaters.

All three of them wereplunging after the red Spad. Andreswore through the interphone as thebeleaguered ship dived closer.

"Mon Dieu! It is Henri Dornaythose butchers are after!"

Strange had alreadyrecognized the gaudily painted shipof the wealthy French ace, and asthe Spad hurtled past he saw thehaggard face of Dornay himself. Theyoung Frenchman was workingmadly to clear a jammed gun.Strange kicked around and loosed aburst at the first Halberstadt. Theblack ship skidded, but the gunnerwhirled his Parabellums for a rakingblast. Andre crashed out a barragefrom his Lewises and the two-seaterpitched down with half of its tai} shotoff.

DORNAY'S Spad shot up intoa furious Immelmann and lanced inat the second two-seater. TheGerman gunner dropped under a hailof bullets, and the pilot threw theblack ship into a vertical bank. ItsSpandaus ripped through Dornay'swings, and the French ace wasforced into a hasty chandelle. The

third Halberstadt was thunderingdown at him when Strange caught itin his sights. Jets of fire, pale againstthe blaze of the wrecked shipsbelow, leaped from the tremblingVickers. He saw the pilot's headslam back against the crash-pad.The Boche slid out of sight, and theHalberstadt screamed down in aheadlong dive.

It struck almost on the tracks,just as four Yankee Spads fromChaloncourt came racing to join thefight. The remaining German two-seater whirled and fled, with the fourYankee Spads after it. Dornaytossed a hurried gesture of thankstoward the D.H., then his red wingsflashed off into the shadows. Strangedrew a long breath, stared around atAndre. The Surete major's face waspale.

"It was that same hellish fire!"he exclaimed hoarsely. "But wheredid it come from this time?"

"I don't know," said Strange,"but we mustn't forget about the acetrain and von Zenden."

He turned back and flewabove the tracks. The blaze from theplane on the hill lit up the right-of-way, but only barren rails shone inthe light. The D.H. was still in thelight when three Nieuports withFrench cocardes appeared from theopposite direction. The French shipspulled up and circled, and the pilotsmotioned excitedly toward the track.Andre signaled back, pointingsouthward, but the pilots vigorouslyshook their heads.

"Bon Dieu!" Andre gaspedthrough the interphone. "The ace-train has disappeared!"


"It's impossible!" Strange saidtensely.

"Then where is it?" demandedthe little major.

"It must have gone by duringthat fight."

"Non, non, I would have seenit," retorted Andre.

"Trains can't vanish," snappedthe G-2 ace. "If it didn't get by us, itmust have backed up—these pilotsobviously missed it in the dark. CallCorps and tell them to get us areport from Tower 97—we'll fly thatway."

The three Nieuports swung into follow the D. H. Strange looked atthem sharply.

"Keep your guns ready,Andre. Those pilots might beGermans."

"No, mon ami, I recognizedone of them. They are from the119th Escadrille—they are no spies."

The Frenchman bent over thewireless key. In a few moments thereply rattled into Strange's phones:

"Ace-train passed Tower 97 at7:49, eight minutes before call forhelp came. Did not go back pasttower, and Diesel car also failed topass that point. Search sectionbetween Tower 97 and Amoins.Ground forces will cooperate."

Strange and Andre stared ateach other, then the G-2 ace bankedthe two-seater and sent it back alongthe rail-road. One of the Nieuportsfollowed, and the pilot climbedsteeply to drop a flare. Only emptyrails were revealed. The two planesraced on. Lanterns appeared ahead,and Strange saw dough-boysspreading out along the right-of-way.A searchlight truck rolled to a stop atthe next crossing, and a tunnel oflight pierced the darkness.

Spad pilots from the Corpsfield were dropping flares atintervals, and from the Molaine Riverto Chaloncourt there was not astretch of track or a siding left inshadow. But there was still no sign ofthe ace-train when Strange circledover the Second Corps base. Helanded, switched off the Liberty.Several planes were idling on theline, and as he jumped out he sawfive or six pilots hurrying toward theships. In the van were the Jay twins.

"Where are you going?" heasked them.

"To look for the ace-train,"Tom said breathlessly. "It'sdisappeared. They can't locate itanywhere."

"Stay here," cut in Strange."Noisy, tell those other pilots not totake off."

"But Colonel Beeding orderedus out," protested Noisy.


"I'll take the responsibility. Tellthem to shut off their engines."

The Jays ran toward theships, and Strange and Andrestarted in toward the Corps flightoffice. Suddenly the little majorstopped.

"Henri!" he exclaimed, andStrange saw the handsome Frenchace pacing nervously beside his redship. At Andre's exclamation, Dornayturned and hurried toward them.

"I thought I had missed you,Andre," he said in a strained voice. "Ihave been trying hard to find you."

"You succeeded when youbrought those black Halberstadtsdown on our necks," Andre returnedwith a grimace.

Dornay stared at him.

"So it was you in that D.H." Helooked in surprise at Strange, as theG-2 ace pushed up his goggles."And you were the other, moncapitaine? I owe you and Andre athousand thanks. Those Bochenearly had me cornered."

"Why were they after you,Henri?" demanded the Surete major.

"I do not know. I came onthem suddenly and they attacked.But could I see you alone—if you donot mind, Capitaine Strange?"

"Not at all," said Strange. "I'dlike to check up on this missing train,anyway."

Dornay started.

"A train—missing? But howcould that be?"

Andre expressively moved hishands.

"Monsieur Ie Diable comesalong, and —voila!—the Americanace-train vanishes, along withColonel de Soucy's new privateDiesel car."

"But this is preposterous!"said Dornay.

"And so is a rainbow fire thatcomes from nowhere and setsplanes ablaze without even touchingthem," Andre said grimly. "Could yousee what was back of it, or where itcame from?"

Dornay shook his head.

"My only thought was toescape with ' my life. It must havebeen some new type of rocket. Icould understand that —but that anentire train could vanish, no—I donot believe it."

"Well, perhaps there is wordof it by now," replied Andre. "Let usgo inside."

He and Dornay followedStrange into the Corps flight building.Major Conroy, the bald-headed Staffofficer, was just putting down thetelephone as they entered the flightoffice.

"Neville!" he jerked out, as hesaw Strange. "Did you find thetrain?"

"No," said Strange, pulling offhis gloves. "It wasn't betweenAmoins and Tower 97."

"But it's got to be!" groanedthe other man. "It didn't go back past97, and it never reached Amoins."

BEFORE Strange could reply,the door was flung open and theportly figure of Lieutenant Colonel


Beeding appeared. Beeding's plumpface was as red as a rooster'swattles.

"What do you mean bygrounding those pilots I ordered up?"he shouted at Strange.

"I stopped them becausethey'd be in grave danger," repliedthe G-2 ace. He explained about themysterious rainbow fire. Beeding'smouth sagged open.

"I don't believe it!" hespluttered.

"It's true, colonel," Conroysaid unhappily. "We heard, a report,but I thought the ships had been shotdown in flames and somebody justimagined the rest."

"I'll do the thinking aroundhere!" Beeding said in a nasty tone.He glowered across at Strange. "Youtold Conroy that von Zenden wasmixed up in this. How do you knowthat?"

"No one but von Zenden couldhave impersonated GeorgesLamotte so well," Strange answered.He told Beeding as quickly aspossible about the events of theafternoon. "It's obvious that vonZenden went there to get rid of theblack corpse, after he learned it hadbeen found and reported. Heprobably had the Breguet spy pilotsordered there to delay Andre andme, and when we downed the shiphe had to work fast to get rid ofSchermann's body and then escape.He must have knocked out oldLamotte before the air fight—probably after the old man helpedhim take the corpse inside. When wecame, he impersonated Lamottelong enough to be sure that the black

material was about to ignite, then heran out and put the old man's clothesback on him, left the body wherewe'd see it and escaped into thewoods while Andre and I wereinside. I guessed the truth whenLamotte's shoes fell off as I wascarrying him, and I saw his clotheshad been hastily fastened on him."

"So you guessed all this!"snapped Beeding. "Well, if that's allyou've got to go on—"

"It's not," Strange said coldly."There was another impersonation.Some one came here in a plane asColonel de Soucy, and Andre saysde Soucy never flew in his life. It'sobvious that he was captured soonafter the Diesel car was put on thesiding, and that the imposter cameup here to get Colonel Jordan aloneso he could find out how much we'dlearned. The colonel may have seenthrough the deception, but at anyrate he was slugged and taken out atonce through the window. VonZenden evidently had spies waitingwith the Staff machine, so they couldrush Colonel Jordan to the Dieselcar."

"Well, what happened to thatcar and the ace-train?" demandedBeeding.

"Maybe," Strange grinned,"Monsieur Ie Diable has made offwith both of them."

Beeding purpled.

"Do you think I'm a fool? Howcould one man—even a thousandmen—steal a train?"

"According to what I'veheard," said Strange ironically, "he's


stolen about everything else. Whynot a train?"

Beeding swore. Henri Dornayhad stood beside Andre, listeningwith a dazed expression.

"But all this idea of M. Diabledoes not make sense," he objected."According to what Andre used to tellme, the man was only an eccentric—a Rames type of person whoamused himself by baiting thepolice."

Strange looked at him, thennodded.

"You're undoubtedly right—but von Zenden for some reason hastaken advantage of the reputationour unknown M. Devil built up."

"Why?" Beeding broke inharshly. "What possible reason couldhe have for all these crazy antics?"

Strange gave him a coolglance.

"I won't try any moreguesswork, colonel. But if you'll letme see those lists which ColonelJordan said you were bringing,showing Monsieur Ie Diable'saccomplishments—"

The hasty entrance ofLieutenant Peck cut him short. Therewas a triumphant smirk on Peck'sface as he saw Strange.

"I just found out who flew thatD.H., Colonel Beeding. It wasCaptain Neville."

"What!" roared Beeding. Hespun around furiously. "So that's theanswer, is it? This whole thing is atrick to—"

"It was a mistake," Strangesaid curtly. "We were trying to spotthe Packard, and in the dusk—"

"I ought to have you court-martialed for carelessness!" Beedingrasped. "If it weren't for this case—Conroy, answer that phone!"

The bald-headed majorhurriedly obeyed. In a few secondshe dropped the instrument, gaped atthe others.

"The bridge! Why didn't wethink of that?"

"What is it?" snappedBeeding.

"The drawbridge over theMolaine River—they just found thebridge-tender murdered, with one ofthose red devil cards on his body.The bridge was not quite closed.Somebody must have opened it andlet the ace-train plunge into theriver!"

"Sacre Dieu,!" moaned Andre."Then the Diesel car also wentthrough the draw—and both ourcolonels have been drowned!"

A STUNNED feeling cameover Strange. In his long associationwith Jordan he had come to knowthe courage and kindness back ofthe G-2 chief's brusque manner, andthe thought of his loss numbed him.In a daze he heard Peck speakingagain to Beeding.

"—something else, sir. Mysergeant just found this in theconference room. It seems to be partof a confidential memorandum fromColonel de Soucy to ColonelJordan."


Beeding took the sheet ofpaper, frowned, handed it to Andre.

"My French isn't very good;would you mind translating this?"

Andre ran his eyes over thefirst words.

"Oui, this is the colonel'swriting. It is about M. Ie Diable, and itsays:

"Also, I have investigated hismovements during the Spring of1914, and some of the datescoincide with the appearances of M.Ie Diable in various parts of France,especially in Paris. It grieves me tosay this of such a famous man, but Ibelieve he was even then a tool ofGermany, and was building up a spyorganization. Otherwise he would nothave been so interested in the art ofdisguise. In addition, he was onfurlough recently and I find that hedisappeared from the address hehad given. It would give him theopportunity to steal back and carryon these tricks secretly while . . . . "

Andre's voice trailed off, andStrange suddenly realized the hushin the room. He stared around.Beeding's lips were workingconvulsively.

"You damned traitor!" he burstout. "No wonder you were soanxious to blame all this on vonZenden."

Strange looked at him ingenuine astonishment.

"Surely, Colonel Beeding, youdon't think I'm Monsieur Ie Diable?"

"You can't bluff your way outof this!" stormed Beeding. Hereached out and snatched atStrange's .45. Strange made no

attempt to resist him, and Beedingbacked away, the pistol gripped in anot too steady hand.

"Wait, mon colonel," Andresaid in a distressed voice. "There issome mistake—he could not be atraitor, after all he has done againstthe Boche."

"How do we know what he'sdone?" fumed the Staff officer. "He

goes on freelance missions andmakes reports without any proof halfthe time. Jordan may have beenfooled, but I've suspected him fromthe start."

"But the memorandum doesnot-mention his name," protestedAndre. "It is ridiculous to suspecthim."

"He's bamboozled you theway he has the rest," snappedBeeding. "I happen to know he wasin France in 1914. He was workingwith make-up and disguise—I heardhim admit it to Jordan one day—saidit was for his own amusement. Andhe's been on leave for weeks—supposed to be down in Italy. It'splain as the nose on your face thatde Soucy meant him and nobody


else. He's back of the wholebusiness and now he's killed Jordanand de Soucy and wiped out thoseaces."

"But he was with me whenColonel Jordan was abducted,"insisted the Surete major. "And in thefight to save Dornay he shot down aGerman ship."

"He was covering up," saidBeeding harshly. "Use your brains—he fooled you at Lamotte's houseand he's been using you as a shieldever since. That Breguet wasprobably sent by Colonel de Soucy,and Strange knew he was caughtunless he brought it down."

Peck had started at mentionof Strange's right name. Beedingjerked his head imperiously.

"Call the guard, lieutenant, butnot a word as to the prisoner's truename. I'm going to keep himincommunicado until he talks."

"And meantime you're lettingvon Zenden cover his trail," Strangesaid calmly. "Give me twenty-fourhours and those lists from G.H.Q.and I think I can bring you theanswer to all this business."

"You mean you'd be safe inGermany by then!" snarled Beeding.He wheeled as Peck returned with aguard sergeant and two men. "Lockup this prisoner, sergeant. He'scharged with murder and treason!"

CHAPTER V – MONSIEUR LE DIABLE

THE cell was dark, but on asmall table in the corridor outside alamp was burning. Behind the bars,Philip Strange watched the

exasperated face of LieutenantColonel Beeding, who for upward ofan hour had been alternatelythreatening and pleading.

"Now see here, Strange,"Beeding rasped, "you're in a tightspot. If I press these charges you'llbe court-martialed and shot."

The G-2 ace shook his head.

"With all the actors in theAllied Armies," there could be ahundred men to answer de Soucy'sdescription. Your evidence is flimsy,colonel. If it weren't, you'd havepushed the case immediately."

Beeding turned red, butgulped down his wrath.

"I'll make a bargain with you,"he mumbled. "I'll give you all theinformation you asked for, and youcan direct the affair from here. Proveyour innocence and you go free."

"What you really mean," saidStrange, "is that you're in a jam withChaumont; they've probably givenyou a deadline for finding out what'sback of all this."

"There's nothing back of it,"snapped Beeding, but Strange couldsee he had scored a hit. "Getting ridof Colonel Jordan and those aceswas a big enough stroke in itself."

"Then something's happenedsince the offensive started?"

"No, but G.H.Q. is afraid—"Beeding stopped, glaring through thebars. "If you've figured out anything, Idemand to know what it is."

"The answer is still thesame— twenty-four hours and a freehand."


"No!" snarled the Staff officer."It's my way or not at all."

Strange coolly returned to hisiron bunk and lay down. Beedingfumed and swore for a minute, thenstalked down the corridor. Strangeheard him berate the guard forslowness in opening the door, thenthe door clanged.

Strange closed his eyes, butsleep was impossible. Wearily, hewent over the events which hadoccurred since his departure fromItaly. A full day had passed since hisarrest, and he had considered thetangled situation a dozen times, butJordan's death had left him with asense of unreality and his brain wasstill dulled.

A minute or two had passedwhen he heard a stealthy sound. Heopened his eyes, sat up quickly as aman in a flying-coat became visibleoutside the cell. To his astonishment,the man's face was completelycovered by a black mask, the top ofwhich was thrust under his leatherhelmet.

"Stand up," the intruderwhispered, "and don't talk."

He shifted an automatic to hisrubber-gloved left hand, produced aring of keys and unlocked the celldoor. Swinging the door open, hemotioned Strange outside.

"Walk ahead," he ordered in aharsh whisper.

Strange looked intently at theeyes hack of the mask-.slits, thenobeyed without a word. There was asmell of chloroform as he neared thecorridor door, and he saw the guardstretched on the floor, unconscious.

The masked man prodded him onthrough, and toward a hall on theright. It was unlighted, but a barreddoor was dimly visible at the end.The masked man unlocked it, andthey went outside. A closed Renaultstood in the darkness, a few yardsaway. Strange saw a metal pennanton the hood, and he thought it borethe tri-colors of France.

"Get in the rear and under thatrug," his captor ordered in a lowtone. "Stay there and keep still."

Strange lay down and pulledthe rug over him. He felt the carstart, go a short distance and stop.He could hear indistinct wordsbetween the driver and a sentry,then the machine rolled on. As itgathered speed he sat up cautiously.The car's headlights were turned off,but the dashlight was on and hecould see the other man readjustingthe mask he had evidently taken offbefore reaching the sentry-post.

"You needn't bother with that,Henri," he said.

The driver started, droppingthe mask, and Strange had aglimpse of Dornay's clear-cut profileagainst the dashlight.

"Then you knew all the time?"the French ace exclaimed.

STRANGE climbed overbeside him. "I had a strongsuspicion last night, when Andreread de Soucy's memorandum. Andyou were a trifle too quick to defendM. Ie Diable as a mere eccentricplaying tricks on the police."

Dornay groaned.


"I may as well admit it, I wasthe original Monsieur Ie Diable. But ifyou suspected me, why didn't yousay so then?"

"No proof," said Strange, "andit was evident you had nothing to dowith the present mixup."

"I swear I know nothing of it,"Dornay declared fiercely. "I playedthe part before, oui—I was young,reckless, bored with Paris and withtoo much money. It was a lark for awhile—I did it mainly to see how longI could fool Andre. We were friendsbefore that, and I used to come inand listen to him rave about what hewould do when he caught M. Diable.I used some crude disguises—nothing that would have deceived anexpert—and when I needed help Ihired some Apaches from whom Ithought I had concealed my identity.Then the war came and I became apilot. I thought Monsieur Ie Diablewas forgotten, and I was on furloughat Nice when I first heard he hadcome back.

"I returned secretly to Parisand tried to find some of theApaches I had used. Then I learnedthat Colonel de Soucy was alsoinvestigating, and I feared he wouldtrace the earlier things to me andblame me with all the rest. Idetermined to find Andre and make aclean breast of everything, but I lostmy courage when I heard de Soucy'smemorandum. I was afraid no onewould believe me. Later, I recalledyour request for twenty-four hours'freedom to clear up the puzzle, so Idecided to release you, hoping youcould prove me innocent of anytreason."

"Very kind of you," Strangesaid drily, "and of course it neveroccurred to you that my escape willbe taken as sure proof of my guilt."

"I have already cleared you,"Dornay answered. "I sent a completeconfession to the caretaker at our oldestate, and Andre will have it bynow. At my request he agreed to gothere tonight with those mad twinaides of yours, though I did not saywhy. I was afraid they might beaccused of helping you escape, ifthey were at Chaloncourt."

Strange looked at him amoment, then held out his hand.Dornay grasped it quickly.

"Then you forgive me, moncapitaine, for forcing you out of theguardhouse?"

Strange grinned. "To tell thetruth, I was getting a little tired of theplace. By the way, where are wegoing?"

Dornay had turned southwardon a road which skirted Chaloncourt.

"To the estate I mentioned.You may have heard of it. It is aboutforty kilometers southwest ofAmoins, at the edge of the Foret desCharnes. We can have privacythere."

"I thought you had turned thatchateau into a hospital," saidStrange.

"No, it is a home for blindedpoilus," replied the Frenchman. "Butthe attendants are my old servants,and they will not talk. There is onlyone thing— the 144th SpadEscadrille is temporarily stationed onthe estate, and we shall have toavoid the pilots who might have met


you. However, the escadrille isalmost a kilometer away from thechateau, so there is no real dangerfrom that source."

They were approachinganother sentry-post. Strange hid inthe rear until Dornay had displayedhis pass and driven on.

"Has Andre the lists Iwanted?" he asked as he climbedinto the front again.

"No, I have them here," saidDornay. "I made away with themwhile your fat lieutenant colonel wastrying to browbeat you tonight."

Strange laughed.

"A man of your talents shouldbe in Intelligence, Henri. Before Ilook over these, tell me if anythingunusual has happened since lastnight."

"Only that the offensive hasbegun, and is meeting with greatresistance. Andre tried to discoverthe source of that rainbow fire, butdid not succeed. I think it must havecome from a plane."

Strange was silent a moment.

"Have they recovered any ofthe bodies from the train, or thgDiesel car?" he asked soberly.

"No, and I am afraid they willnever be found. There was no timeto grapple from the bridge—troopsand supply trains were being rushedthrough after midnight, and it will bethree days before heavy barges canbe towed into position. By then thequicksand may have swallowedeverything. A diver was lowered thismorning, and he failed to locate thecar or the train, but his search wascut short by defective apparatus."

THE G-2 ace stared at him,then hurriedly bent over and beganto read the first typewritten sheet byaid of the dashlight. Dornay drove asfast as he could, avoiding the mainroads on which troops and supplytrucks were being moved. Twice,Strange had to crawl into the rear atsentry-posts, and each time hewaited tensely for fear his escapehad been discovered and roadpatrols warned. But they passedsafely, and at last turned into a sideroad which led to Dornay's estate.

He had almost finished thedetailed reports Dornay hadpurloined. Thumbing back over thepages, he hastily checked off certainparagraphs.

"What have you found?" theFrenchman said anxiously.

"Listen to these items,"Strange replied, "A railway official'stolen' at Barle-duc—the one whohad charge of personnelappointments from Nancy to


Chaloncourt; a ration car loaded withfood missing on the same line—supposed to have been missent toanother division, but not found; asupply truck stolen at Amoins,contents three hundred Frenchuniforms; an American truck nearAmoins with a load of machine-gunsand ammunition; a track walker onthe Amoins-Chaloncourt section,disappeared. What do you make ofall this?"

"Something is very wrongalong that section of railway!"exclaimed Dornay. "It looks—MonDieu, you think the Boche hasestablished a base inside our lines?"

"Exactly," said Strange. "ThisMonsieur Ie Diable business hasbeen a blind. All those other theftswere intended to distract attentionfrom the railway angle. That's whythey made them as varied aspossible and as widespread. Amongall the others, these few things arealmost lost. Except for last night'strouble I wouldn't have noticedthem."

"But what shall we do?"Dornay said excitedly.

"Tell Andre as soon aspossible, and get planes tosearching this sector. We can usethe Spads of the 144th."

Dornay recklessly switched onhis lights and sent the Renaultroaring along the road. They passedthrough a gateway, sped up a long,winding drive through a woods. Thechateau came into view, a shadowybulk beside a small lagoon. Acrippled, white-haired man-servantanswered Dornay's hasty pull at the

bell and bowed effusively as theyentered.

"Bon soir, Master Henri. Bonsoir, monsieur."

"Hello, Jacob," Dornayanswered. "You received mymessage?"

"Oui, but the three officershave not come," Jacob replied as heturned to secure the door.

Dornay looked at Strange.

"I hope nothing's gonewrong,"he said in an undertone.Then in a louder voice,

"We'll wait in the library,Jacob. Bring some brandy."

Jacob limped away. Dornayled Strange toward the library. Theypassed the drawing-room, andStrange glimpsed a number ofpoilus, some in wheel-chairs, a fewtalking together, some listlesslysilent, staring before them with theempty expression peculiar to theblind.

"Poor wretches," Dornay saidin a lowered voice. "I think I wouldprefer death."

Strange looked around asthey entered the library.

"Have you a railroad atlas?"

"I think not," said Dornay. "Iam here so seldom I forget what ishere— but if you are looking for arailway map of this province I havean old one. I remember it becausemy father used to keep it up on thewall when we operated the mines."

"What mines?" Strange askedsharply.


"Why, the old Latierre coalmines," said Dornay in surprise. "Isupposed you knew of them—theywere the main source of the familyfortune, before they filled up withwater."

"Are they near here?" Strangesaid quickly.

"About three kilometers, at thesouthern edge of the estate. Here,the map shows them."

Strange took one swift look atthe map Dornay brought out.

"These sheds, and the spurtracks— are they still there?"

"Yes, I suppose so, but theyhaven't been used for—" Dornaybroke off, paling. "Sacre nom! Youmean the Boche may be hidingthere?"

"It's the most likely place, withthat railroad hookup. It would explaina lot of things."

Dornay groaned.

"If this becomes known, allFrance will think me a traitor."

"Not if we move quickly. Youcan persuade the escadrille pilots tohelp us; we'll cover the place fromthe air while the ground men cut offtheir escape."

DORNAY sprang to the door,almost knocking over Jacob, whohad arrived with the cognac andglasses. A poilu, feeling his wayalong the hall with his cane, pauseduncertainly as the door thuddedagainst the wall. Dornay stepped out

of his path, turned hastily to thewhite-haired servant.

"Jacob, have you seen orheard anything going on at the oldmine?"

Jacob looked surprised.

"No, Master, Henri. Whatcould anyone want there? They havebeen deserted for years."

"You're sure the place isdeserted now?" Strange interrupted.

"I could not be certain,monsieur, not having been near it,but—"

"If you haven't been near it,"

Strange said softly, "where didyou get the coal-dust on yourshoes?"

The tray dropped to the floorwith a crash, and Jacob leaped back.He plunged one hand under his coat,and a pistol came into sight.Strange's iron fingers closed on hiswrist, and a sudden jerk sent the gunto the floor. Before the man couldtwist free, Strange reached up andsnatched at his snow-white hair. Itcame away, revealing a close-cropped head and a smoothforehead where makeup wrinklesended.

CHAPTER VI – SECRET OF THE MINE

PHILIP STRANGE smiledgrimly at his captive.

"A very good act, vonZenden—almost as good as yourrole of Lamotte."

For an instant, pure hateshowed in the Prussian's eyes, then


a veil of mockery hid it. He inclinedhis head ironically.

"Thank you, my dear captain.It is a pleasure to play before suchan appreciative audience."

Dornay was staring open-mouthed at the notoriousimpersonator.

"But—name of a name!—whathas happened to Jacob?" he said toStrange.

"He's probably locked upsomewhere in the house," replied theG-2 ace. "With all these blind men, itwould be easy to maneuver—"

He broke off with a sharpexclamation.

"Look out, Henri! Back ofyou!"

The supposed blind poilu hadlunged forward, his cane uplifted.Dornay jumped aside and caught theblow on his shoulder. In the samemoment, von Zenden dived for thegun he had dropped. Strange hurledhim over back-ward, scooping up thepistol before von Zenden couldrecover his balance.

The man in poilu uniform wastrying to draw a gun. Dornay's fistcaught him a glancing blow on thejaw. He stepped back and trippedover a fold in the rug, but even as hefell he jerked out the weapon.Strange fired, and the spy's gunslipped from his shattered hand.Above the wounded man's howlsounded a rush of feet, and into thehall dashed a dozen men in the garbof poilus and attendants. Eyes nolonger vacant glared over Lugerpistols.

Dornay had retrieved the firstspy's gun. He 'blasted a shot at thefirst charging German, aad the manwent down with a blood-curdling yell.Another spy, with a bandage pushedup from his eyes, leaped over thefallen man. Strange shot him down,whirled to aim at two more plungingat Dornay. Von Zenden had regainedhis feet, was shouting for his agentsto take the two men alive.

A huge figure in the white coatof an attendant hurtled againstStrange from the side. He went downwith a thud, but held onto his gun.The spy's distorted face was withinan inch of his as he pulled thetrigger. The man stiffened as thoughan electric current ' had passedthrough his body. A horrified lookcame into his eyes, then he slumpeddown and Strange felt warm bloodon his hand. He fried to squirm fromunder the dying Boche, but a furiouskick took the breath from his lungs.He saw a booted foot flash outtoward his head. A sharp pain shotthrough his brain, and the snarlingvoices faded into a suddenblackness.

It seemed only a moment untilhis senses returned, but when heopened his eyes he was lyingdoubled up on the floor in the rear ofthe Renault, his hands tied behindhis back. He could dimly see Dornay,also bound, and von Zenden on theseat beside him with a Luger in hishand. The Prussian was still madeup as Jacob, and he had replacedthe white wig.

"Faster!" Strange heard himsnap at the driver. "Turn on yourlights—there is no danger, now thatthe escadrille has been captured."


The lights went on, and theRenault's speed increased. Strangenarrowed his eyes, and forced hisaching brain to concentrate on vonZenden's words.

"You may as well answer myquestions," the Prussian was sayingto Dornay. "I shall learn theinformation, anyway."

The French ace maintained astubborn silence. Von Zendenshrugged.

"Very well, if you choose to bepig-headed. But at least, permit meto thank you for creating the role ofMonsieur Ie Diable. I could not haveasked for anything more perfectlysuited to my plans."

In the reflected glow from thehead-lights, Strange saw Dornay'slips tighten. Von Zenden laughed.

"Where is your sense ofhumor, M. Devil? You must have hadone in those earlier days. It wasquite a touch, stealing the guillotine. Iremember being amused by it e

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