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The Wilmington morning star. (Wilmington, N.C.) 1909-1990, December 04, 1940, FINAL EDITION, Image 8

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Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn78002169/1940-12-04/ed-1/seq-8/

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BEFORE TH “
RELEASED BY
run CENTRAL PRESS ASSOCIATION ^
V ^ 1
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
The day passed slowly and un
comfortably. Hunger was merely
annoying—they managed to stave
off the worst pangs with then
slender rations of chocolate and
biscuit. But it was a hot day, and
the wind blew dust into their she -
ter, so that the thirst became a
torture. They took turns on watcn
at the doorway, the others lying
down and resting, or talking desu
torily. Gun took the opportunity of
telling Tommy Hazeldeane the full
strength of the plot to bomb Lon
don and Berlin, and so rig the
markets. As he had expected, this
infuriated Tommy, who afterward
spent his time squatting behind
the sandbags, and sniping at the
enemy whenever he caught a
glimpse of a head or limb. This
did little damage, but it seemed to
afford Tommy a sort of gloomy
satisfaction.
Gun spent most of the afternoon
carefully examining the papers he
had taken from Trent’s office. He
had a long talk with Coral about
what she knew of the gang and its
organization, and particularly of
the private air station near
Cannes.
a i __3 — -C 44- nil Vi ViC'HTDfl
long sigh.
“It’s damned hard lines, really,
he commplained.. “Because, if we
could once get away from here,
and leave these devils stranded, I
believe I could scoop the w’hole
bunch in, in about three days.”
“Don’t you think there's a
chance of our getting away?”
Coral asked, a trifle plaintively.
Gun shrugged.
“Just a chance. Like the mari
ners of old, our fate depends en
tirely on the wind. If that changes
J”
“Then?” Coral asked, eagerly.
“You’ll see—if it happens. If not.
no need to torture with the
thought of it.”
“And—if it doesn’t happen?”
Gun shrugged hopelessly.
“It may comfort you, in view of
what may happen, to know that
the dear Otto suggested that he
was not going to kill you—at once.
But he’d make you wish he had.
You know a fate worse than
death,” he laughed.
. Coral smiled without mirth.
“Well, he’ll be unlucky. I still
have that little pistol of yours.”
“No need to worry,” Gun put in
grimly. “You won’t.” He waved
his hand to the piled-up cases of
explosives behind them. “At the
last minute I propose to pull the
pin out of a Mills bomb and drop
it behind those. That ought to blow
at least half of them to where they
really belong—as well as robbing
them of thejr precious munitions.”
"And us . . .?”
“Us? Oh, of course, we shall go
too. It’ll be a quick finish, that’s
one thing.”
"So we’re bound to win in the
end,” said Coral, paling a little,
but faintly smiling.
“This girl’s got courage!” was
Gun’s inward comment.
Time dragged on. Towards the
end of the afternoor the wind
dropped completely. This increased
the heat, and it increased the thirst
from which they were all suffering,
but to Gun it brought a faint gleam
of hope. At sundown the wind
would rise again—but from which
direction?
Curious to think how life and
death hung on the answer to that
question.
None of them complained aloud.
Tommy Hazeldeane sat by the
sandbags, glowering with slightly
bloodshot eyes over the enemy
shelters. He held his rifle ready,
and occasionally licked his dry lips
with a dry tongue.
Coral Merridew sat at the left of
him, sheltered from the sun, and
gazed up at the blue sky, wonder
ing if this was to be her last night
of it.
Gun sat back in the corner, and
thought with exasperation of how,
with a little daring, he could scoop
in the whole crowd of these scoun
drels—if only they could get away
from this accursed island.
None of them spoke a word.
There seemed so little to talk
about.
The minutes, the half hours, the
hours dragged on. Tommy, whc
had been moving restlessly for
some time, croaked:
“My gosh, it’s this waiting that
gets you beat. We seem to have
been "doing nothing but wait ever
since we came to t his damned
place.”
Gun rose, a little stiffly, and
stepped into the doorway, behind
Tommy7. He looked up at the sky.
“It won’t be long now,” he an
nounced quietly. “The sun’s go
ing.”
He turned, and began to rum
mage in the open cases of muni
tions. He arranged three little piles
of three Mills bombs on the floor
near the doorway.
“With luck we’ll sift a few of
’em ourselves, before the big
bang comes,” he said.
Then he took a tenth bomb and
laid it, by itself, a little way be
hind the others.
Coral stared at it with fascinated
eyes. Queer! That little pear
shaped thing was the instrument
that, very soon, would destroy
them all. She wondered what it
felt like to be suddenly blown to
smithereens—or if it felt at all.
Tommy, who had been smoking,
threw the stub of his cigaret as
far as he could out into the now
fading sunlight. It fell onto the
rocky ground, and the smoke rose
in a thin, blue column—like the
smoke of a miniature campfire, he
thought.
Suddenly, as he looked at it, he
stiffened, and his reflective gaze
changed to a concentrated stare.
Then he gave a sharp cry:
“Gun! There’s wind getting up.
and it’s blowing dead away from
here. Look at that cigaret!”
Gun stgpped forward quite slow
ly and his eyes followed the direc
tion indicated by Tommy’s slightly
shaking finger, but his hand on
Tommy's shoulder gripped so that
it hurt.
Coral stared at them both, ana
held her breath.
“You’re right,” said Gun, after
a moment—and then, in a hushed—
almost an awed—tone; “By God,
we’ve got ’em!”
Tommy gave a suppressed
whoop and ■ rose to his feet.
“Come on, then—let’s get to it!
But Gun shook his head.
“We must wait—until the wind
strengthens. It might drop away
suddenly.”
“Oh, hell—this waiting!”
Tommy crouched again, and his
knuckles showed white where he
gripped his rifle.
Gun’s eyes shifted from the tops
of a couple of stunted trees to the
sparse grass that grew here in the
open, and back again.
The trees moved; and the grass
was ruffled, as the sundown wind
came in fitful gusts. Gun said sud
denly:
“Now, then—come along! We’ll
chance it—if it blows back on us
it won’t matter much—I can send
this dump up before it really gets
us!”
He turned to a box marked
“G. 13.”
“There’s only a dozen of ’em, all
told. We’ll try out with six for a
start—it ought to be enough.”
He handed two of the pear
shaped bombs to each of them, and
took two himself. Then he gave
his directions in a quiet, level
voice:
“I’ll take the center, Coral can
take the left, and you, Tommy, the
right. We must spread ’em out well
to make a good curtain, and we
must throw all together. Take your
instructions from me. Coral, aim
straight for the gate in the fence
there. Tommy, aim for that bush.
Get me?”
The others assented.
“Take your time, and don’t get
flustered, Coral. The directions
will be ’one, two, three—withdraw
pin—one, two—throw.’ Have you
got that?”
“Yes!”
“Right! Now—ready? One ... .
two . . . three . . . withdraw pin.
(Continued on Page Ten)
I THIS CURIOUS WORLD gg ],
m
¥ ISLE ROVALE *
| NATIONAL PARK \
= HAS MO ROADS LEAD
INS TO IT, AND THERE
ARE NO ROADS AFTER
■VYSSRE. ,
AMD IN >
3ERIOR, i
AN REACH I
IOR ONLY 4
' TRAILS
*
f
PREHISTORIC
saber-tooth
TIGER.
WAS NOT A
ONLY TWO PRESIDENTS HAVE I
DIED IN THE WHITE HOUSE. |
ANSWER: Right. William Henry Harrison and Zachary Taylor are
tne only two to die in the White House, but six have died in office.
pELA LANAN—COURT REPORTER “ bTl' Allen Heine'
Founded On Actual Court Records And You Can Be The Judge
The
Strange
Case
of
THE
HONG
TONG
TERROR

IN SIX
EPISODES
No. 3
\_
ON TWO SUCCESSIVE NIGHTS, SOMEONE W V
HAS TAKEN A SHOT AT JUDGE SHELDON I MO. SHELDON ..YOU
AT HIS HOME IN CALIFORNIA! THE FIRST I SAY THE FIRST SHOT
TIME.. IT COULD HAVE BEEN A STRAY I CAME THROUGH THIS
BULLET..BUT THE SECOND ONE ... I WINDOW, JUSTAS !
THAT WAS TOO MUCH J AND NOW... ® SING FU PLACED "THE
THE Police ! TEA TRAY ON YOUR
--DESK ? THE SHOT
iEVER HAD AN ENEMY IN MY | PASSED BETWEEN f
e ! YOU FIGURE IT OUT/1 CANT J JL, YOU TWO ? J
Wk'M. I / r«lr—7 ■——■^
/ NOW THE SECOND SHOT'
YOU MAD GOTTEN OUT
OP YOUR CARRIAGE! WAS
ANYONE NEAR >t>U f
Lf-;
OF COURSE !l WAS
LOADING BUNDLES
INTO SING ED'S ,J
- ARMS / -J
11 I 1 II
f -HUM ! THOSE 5H0TS
WERE NOT FOR VOU,
JUDGESOMEONE’S
TRVlNGTO KILL.. L
YOUR CHINESE ]
L SERVANT.. SING FU»
v--—'
H^T^^cs^^^at. OffWo7idTis!!ul li
^^^eservejHy^arine^rutchc^^^^ I
I OUT OUR WAY By J. R. Williams
A WHIP „ ",
IS TOO / /vJ)
S--aR A bankrupt /_^,\ J>-—
TRAP ON i?fr \ RIGHT NOW-- | '^^-■1 —i_ .
THEIP rur)SE | THAT'S OUR . I ~~ •
ISWHW 'I I \ LAST trap/ nn'HMiniiimiiiiii
THEV OUGHT j I | fTT”V
TO GET/ I -it- cOto I I
■SHALL I SAV
B TEKAPORAR'
>IS INDUCED
- OR IT
ACTURE
t! 'to o
HE
5NCE,
HON/'
w
OUR BOARDING HOUSE . . with . . . Major Hoop|e
fBetter c^IC^MT; 7r
the old rubber
Tired
carriage,! >
buster/ ' -
born THIRT7 yEARS TOO SOON I
VCOWt 1940 BY NEA SERVICE. INC. _ .
They might
HAVE TO BLAS1
v
LITTLE ORPHAN ANNIE The Distorting
YES- MAYBE YOU'VE Y HA* WHAT
GOT SOMETHING THERE. DO YOU
PETE-YOUR BOY IS ) THINK?
THE TYPE AND THE HES MY
PART IS A NATURAL- KID* HE’S
BUT CAN HE ACT? WILL GOT PLENTY
HE TAKE DIRECTION? / NATURAL
_ Y TALENT- j
v l y
SI-YES- £
' H»S
ER-HE E
rH HER, C
R~ WU.L
)NSENT?
f YOU HEAR A LOT* HM-M-BUT
YEAH* SHE SrOLE HIM IF SHE
FROM ME—-BUT HE'S SHOULD
MINE-SEE? THE COURT MAKE
GAVE HIM TO ME-I'VE / TROUBLE
GOT THE PAPERS TO J THAT WOULD
I PROVE IT- A BE BAD
WHAT CAN SHE DcT ME I 1
ABOUT IT? HA! SHE [ WOULDNT 1
NEVER EVEN LOOKED KNOW ABOUT I
HIM UP TILL THIS ) THAT, except
CHANCE FOR HIM TO WHAT VOU 8
MAKE MILLIONS CAME TELL ME - §
Talons, did she ? 7 J
*.,.u s. p,t. )\fl lili
Copyright. 1940. by News Syndicate Co. Int
HM?DU>
WASH TUBBS You Said It, Easy By Roy Crane
HOW UTTERLY FANTASTIC! SURELY, YOUNG MAN, IF A. >
FOREIGN AGENT WISHED TO HINDER PRODUCTION AT
DRINKWATER AIRCRAFT HE WOULDN'T TRY TO DO
. IT BY DISGRACING T.K. DRINK WATER... UP*D PIMJT
■SABOTAGE IS THE ART OF '
foul plav. ANYTHING
goes: if a saboteur
CAM CAUSE MORE DAMAGE
By WRECKING A MAW
THAN A MACHINE, HE'LL
Leon-! ^
V"AMD EXPLOSIONS ARE TOO SPECTACULAR. LIKE A RAT IN A CRACKER 'l
I BARREL, HE INREARS MOST OF HIS DESTRUCTION UNSEEN.THE MOST SAM6ER0US
(FORM OF SABOTAGE, AND THE HARDEST TO COMBAT, IS THAT WHICH DESTEOvk
X^NATIONAL LEADERSHIP AND MORALE. THATfe WHAT WE’RE UP AGAINST j- |
r ,
GASOLINE ALLEY_
MASSE HORACE'S ) f HE'S COT \
WHISTLING ISA \ / rtKWHM AND j
■J S]\ NUISANCE BUT THE J \ THINGS/ J
===== Copyright' 1940,Chicago Tribuna.
THE GUMPS ~ __ _ Dr Birn’s Sure Cure
1—1 - ■ ■ - - .. . _,_
( WERE ILL, ANDY— I OUST ) / l'M VERY,VERY \
\ CANS TO SEEK your aid;/ sick, bim-w»llVou I
\ IN AN IMPORTANT^-—' / PROMISE TO LOOK
\ BUSINESS AFTER MIN AND MY /
X VENTURE^* >,T, \ DARLINfca LITTLE BCY L
\ IF» depart -this M
Ml\ —\ LIFE? ER.’WHAT ^
r-JS S&siVTLwfo V Business jSS^
mm mkmk >^SSyS|
/ AW, ITlSTRULy UNFORTUNATE \
) TO FIND YOU ILL AT TWIB TlVlE — )
/ You're oust twe Bit, manVx
V FOR TWE BIS JOB I WAVE.IN jT__
\ KMND-ONLY YOU WAVE TUE ■"
> COURAGE, STREN6.TW /mJ^W <-*A
C AND EXECUTIVE ABILITY / Wr lH
\ r»core»im^ I ac,jos. |
' \ \
Bog. U. S. Pst Off.:
Copyright, 1940, by Th* Chicago Tribune.,
-a
ll-y ;
BRICK BRADF0RD—Seeks the Diamond Doll By William Ritt and Clarence Gray'
Hu toVJI MW AT; DU I I IINUMMin f IWQiblDLt
SAW HIM.' HE WAS I THE INDIANS HERE .
AN INDIAN ! ftSm ARE OUR FRIENDS'J
i
^AMrDSiLSH0ULD HAVE TCLL IUU«
KAWAK INOfANSl
DON T LIKE OUR PRESENCE IN THIS
~— — CAVE/ji^^jrt^H
AS YOU KNOW-THIS ISA SACRED PLACE H
TO THEM. THE DIAMOND TREACURE IS wj
ALSO SACRED/ yp,,, -WA
fW’SfPl
AND THEY ARE DETERMINED BOSH, BRICK '
TO PREVENT OUR TAKING YOU'VE BEEN
DAY-DREAMING!)

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