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VIVA EL BULLDOZER/ HE never used his sword. He didn’t have to. But he did produce his stewy old briar, loaded it with El Terrifico tobacco — and blew some the bull’s way. Curtain. Even a bull can’t stand the charge of a dirty pipe. But even a baby enjoys the fragrance of a mild tobacco like Sir Walter Raleigh smoked in a respectably clean briar. It’s an unusual mixture of gen tle Kentucky Burleys — well-aged, slow-burning, easy on the tongue. It’s a kind tobacco; your kind. Try a tin and see why Sir Walter has become a national favorite. (Kept fresh in heavy gold foil.) A MAGAZINE shopped through like a NEWSPAPER ❖ THIS WEEK has the sales power of BOTH! Carinegro’s shuffling step passed twice up and down the hall, then entered the room opposite. Tony could hear him move a chair, shift the couch out from the wall and settle down on it with a weary sigh. Of course! Since there were only three furnished bed rooms. Paca would naturally take one. her brother and Geromo another, leav ing Kate imprisoned in the third. Which would that be? From the direc tion of the sound of her voice, it must be the one he called his own. An hour passed. Removing his boots, he went to the door and listened. No use fooling with the lock; he knew it too well. He pressed his head against the wood of the door. Silence — the breathing silence that settles on a sleeping household. What about Cari negro? W’as he still awake? Presently came unmistakable evidence — a snore, faint but regular. Feeling his way cautiously, Tony went to the nearest window, opened the stout shutters and tested the iron grille. Nothing doing. He tested the second, then the third and last; lack ing a hacksaw there was no hope of escape that way, A highboy stood against the wall nearby. lony snmeu 11 men uy men across the slippery floor until it stood close to the window. With one of the shutters for a brace and using the grille as a ladder, he climbed on top of it and straightened till his head pressed into the cloth ceiling. He took out his pocket-knife, slit the muslin and, the next moment, was seated on a girder close to the roof. With infinite caution he worked a tile loose, terrified lest it slip from his hands, slide to the patio and sound a fatal alarm. As he removed each half cylinder of clay, he drew it in and placed it on a neighboring beam. In due course he looked up at the starlit sky through an opening three feet square. Now came the crucial test. Standing upright on the girder, he raised one stockinged foot and placed it as far down the gentle slant as his leg would reach. With his fingers resting on two parallel courses of tiles he tipped his weight forward, rose free of the hole and eased gently to a crouching posi tion on the roof. Cold sweat gathered on his brow as he crept cautiously downward and away from the high front of the house toward the eaves. A thudding came to his ears, like somebody digging with a dull hoe, but its regularity soon reassured him. That would be Fuego, his stallion, pawing in a rage that had turned sullen. No other sound, no alarm. He continued toward the patio, working his way to the left until a mass of Bougainvillea warned him he had reached his goal. Hidden within the black shadow of the vine, he proceeded to open the roof as be fore, removing tile after tile. Presently he was groping around in the black pit thus opened beneath him, seeking to locate a girder. He found one, lowered himself and sat there waiting for the trembling which follows the accom plishment of any hazardous feat to cease. Minutes passed betore he dared trust his voice. Kate! he called soltiy. "Oh. Tony!” she answered in a shuddering whisper. "It is you — it’s really you!” “Careful!” he murmured. “Don’t speak out loud. I’m going to cut the cloth ceiling, hang from this rafter and drop on the bed.” “No. Open the ceiling, but don’t drop. I’ll toss you the end of the sheet.” He tied one comer of the sheet securely and slid down the resulting rope. His toes touched. "Where am I? I don’t want to take a tumble now.” Her hands groped for his feet. "You’re all right; you’re almost in the middle.” He let himself go and presently they were seated side by side on the edge of the bed. "You’re wonderful,” Kathleen whis pered. "How did you get out?” "The same way I got in here — through the roof.” "Where are they all? What are they doing?” "Sleeping, thank heaven. Carinegro is on the couch in the room opposite the one in which he thought he had me ! locked. Paca and the others must be in Catuca Continued from pa go fivo the two bedrooms in the comer be yond the kitchen.” “What are we going to do now?” she asked, reassurance causing her to raise her voice a little. Instantly he put his arm around her and brought her head close to his. “Are you crazy?” he whispered in her ear. “Don’t you know a murmur is almost as bad as a shout? Somehow it hits a low key and travels under doors and through walls.” “I’m sorry," she whispered. "I won’t do it again.” "Kate?” “Yes, Tony.” “Can you ride?” “Anything on tour feet,” said Kate with assurance. "Why?” “My horse is still tied outside the kitchen door. Can’t you hear him?” “Is that what it is? I’ve been listen ing to that pawing for a year — ever since you sang and 1 answered." ‘ 'Anybody but a brute like Carinegro would have watered and fed him or turned him loose.” “We’ll both nde him,” said Kath leen. “Not a hope.” whispered Tony. “I’d rather be shot from a cannon than try it. Listen. He's tied with a halter rope. I’ll give you my knife. Your only chance is to mount him first, then lean over and cut the rope. After that, hold on. You'll be riding a rocket.” “He’ll head for his stable, won’t he?” “Goodness knows. With a stallion there’s no telling. All you can hope to do is to stick on until he runs his heart out; then look for telephone wires and follow them to a house. After that your own level little head must guide you.” “Beyond Bayomo — it they got that far.” “Where they turned is where they probably went into the ditch," said Nadito. “Where were they going to turn?” “At the finca entrance of the San Jacinto de la Sierra plantation,” mur mured Pepe. “Hell!" rasped Nadito, giving the car so much gas that it leaped be neath them. He dodged across the city at a pace that more than once caused Trent's heart to leap into his throat. They made Matanzas in an hour and stopped to service the car just as dawn was breaking ahead of them. A hun dred miles further came a flat, but fortunately there was a spare — two spares. They worked feverishly at the substitution, Trent directing their in expert efforts as well as helping. Then came another flat and despair to Pepe, fury to Nadito. “I was a fool,” he cried. “Any jitney with four good tires is faster than a racing car on its uppers.” Thus they limped into Camaguey long after sunset and Trent, at the breaking point, insisted on food and drink before embarking on a search for new tires. While the job of re-equip ping all four wheels was in process, Pepe had plenty of time to think — foo much time. He picked up a wrench, fingered it for a moment with head down, then approached Nadito. “Will you answer a question or two?” he asked. “Of course.” “We’ve stopped a lot. Why haven’t you asked once about Paca? Whether she had passed? Who was with her?” Nadito eyed him. then glanced down at the wrench in his hand. “Why do Drawn by George H. Mauie "I'M SORRY. SIR. BUT MR. GILLIGAN AND MR. DINNWIDDIE ARE IN CONFERENCES” Then they were silent, each think ing his own thoughts. Nadito, with Trent beside him. caught sight of Pepe’s figure as it turned into the windblown reach of the Malecon. He slowed down while still well behind. Already the boy’s steps were wavering though he had all of five hundred miles to go. That very thought must have struck through his agony, for abruptly he faltered and slowed to a shuffling trot. Two or three belated cars passed him, and toward each his head would turn in a despair ing gesture. Nadito drew up beside him. ‘‘Quick, Pepe. Jump in and tell us the way. Sit in the middle.” The boy clambered into the car. ‘‘The carrettra to the east,” he gasped, “the road to Santiago.” “ Was she going all the way?” asked Nadito. "No; not all the way," said the boy. ‘‘Perhaps. But they would have turned off first.” “Where?” you ask such things? We've been watching the ditches, haven’t we — Trent on his side, I on mine?” Pepe's desperately questioning eyes wavered and fell; the wrench slipped from his lax fingers to thud on the dusty floor just as word came the car was ready. He slipped back to his place between Nadito and Trent and sat with hands locked and head fallen forward. His heart was heavy within him, heavy with questions his aching brain could not answer. What was the truth? Where was Paca at this moment? Why this doubt, this per sisting feeling he had been tricked into being a traitor? If Nadito had done that — The late moon was sinking fast be hind them; soon it no longer cast a shadow. The headlights streamed straight ahead as the car tore along on the endless level reach toward Holquin. What chance was there to watch the ditches at that speed? None. Pepe's eyes stole to the left and then to the right. Trent wasn’t making even a pretense of watching; he was draws ing, perhaps fast-asleep. As for Nadito, hands clamped tight on the wheel, his eyes were glued to the road. Then the truth struck Pepe. a crushing blow straight between the eyes. His hand shot out. turned oil the ignition, snatched out the key and hurled it intc the night. "But Kate,” continued Tony's whis per, breaking the long silence, “you can’t ride in this dress.” “Why not?” "You ought to know. Your knee would be torn half way to the bone ii the first mile. Stay where you are. wil you? I am going to risk lighting i match.” He got up, felt his way around th bed. opened a large wardrobe an< struck a match within its gloomy in tenor. I Ic extracted a pair of jodhpurs a sports shirt and an old belt and while the match still burned, hel< them up so Kathleen would undei stand what was expected of hei Glancing at her he beheld a startlin vision. The tiny flame would hav shown him nothing unaided by th darkness beyond, hut against tha shadowy foil her blondeness became it own lamp and her beauty a burnini bush. The unforgettable momen passed and in darkness he crept bad to her side. “Here you are, Kate; give them i try. He heard Kathleen kick off he shoes, rise, bend over, pull her frocl over her head, toss it aside and read back gropingly for the jodhpurs. H heard her draw a long breath, and say "I'm ready.” “Wait a minute.” He felt his way t< a desk, fumbled in a drawer and re turned. “What is it, Tony? What were yoi doing?” “Getting the key to the door bac of the kitchen. I keep it in here.” “Give it to me,” she demanded. "What for?” “Give it to me and I’ll tell you.” II yielded and she thrust it to the bottor of a deep pocket. “Can’t you see it’ a lot safer for me to have it, Tony?” "Why?” "You're going to let me down firsi aren't you?” “That’s right. You’ve certainly go a head, Kate. I f anything slips you ca make a run for it. Are you sure yo know which is the kitchen?” “Yes; where you went to make th ton ** ! “That’s it; when you reach the en ot this side of the patio, the very fin room on your left. It’s the one door i the house that can't be locked, than heaven. Here goes." He climbed up the sheet to th girder, straddled it and hauled Kat) leen to his side. Whispering exact ii structions, he helped her through tf hole and out on the roof. Steadyir herself, she crept downward to tf eaves. Anthony shifted the shee knotting it to a rafter, dropped tf rest of it over the edge and leant over, striving to see how near it can to the ground. He shook his hea< drew it up again and started to pa the loose end around Kathleen b neath the arms. “Oh, Tony," she breathed. “Scared?” They were sitting clo together, their legs hanging over tl eaves, and he could feel her nod hi head. “I don’t blame you, Kate; 1’ good and scared myself. Rut we’ll | through with it just the same. Wati us.” l “Tony?" “What?” “They’ll hear me ride away, wor they?" | “Probably, but that can’t i helped.” “But what will happen to you?” “There’s a foolish question! Wb happens to me doesn't matter in t least.” She shivered and he wrapp; his arm around her, holding her clo; “You’re always thinking ahead, areq you?” | “Not always.” i “Well, that’s what you've made t do — think ahead. Say everythi turns out perfect; where will I be?” “That’s what was worrying me she breathed against his cheek. “You drop out of nowhere into n' arms.” He held her closer. “Thai (Continued on page 15) '