CHAPTER XX
DEEP SECRETS REVEALED
When Mary awoke with the sun shining on her face through a small windownext morning it was with a vague feeling that something was gone.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, jumping out of bed. “I’ve slept too long. Sparkyhas left me behind.”
When her bare feet hit the floor she awoke to the reality of things.
“It’s all over,” she sighed, sinking back on her bed. “We’ve reachedthe journey’s end at last.”
Then with a fresh thought stirring her to action she hurried throughher toilet and donned her dusty uniform.
“Perhaps this is going to be like Christmas morning, when secrets arerevealed, just perhaps,” she whispered.
After a hasty breakfast she begged a ride out to the airfield. It was afairly large airdrome. The runways were neither long nor numerous butback among the trees cement had been laid making hiding places for manyplanes. And the planes were there.
“Sparky!” she exclaimed as she came upon her companion of manyadventures. “Look at the planes! There must be two hundred of them.”
“Fully that many,” Sparky agreed. “And all bombers.”
“What does it mean? What is their mission?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” he grinned. “We would guess the samething I am sure.”
“And might be wrong.”
“Yes, but one thing is certain, about a hundred of them are beingequipped with the same type of gadget. And they all came from thepacking cases that only a few hours ago rode in our plane.”
“Sparky! What are they?”
“Shush,” he whispered. “It’s still a deep military secret. They arebeing provided with a new and more perfect type of bombsight than everhas been used before.”
“So that was it! Sounds quite simple, doesn’t it?”
“Very. But in this world the answers to most great mysteries areusually quite simple. In this case, however, the mystery concernedsomething of tremendous importance.
“These planes have been assembled here for a task that the Japs wouldgive a prince or two to know about. Our flight of bombers, of course,brought their own bombsights. And they brought other much neededequipment. For some reason, known only to the big shots, the bombsightsfor planes already here were entrusted to our ship.”
“And if that Jap spy or the Woman in Black had wrecked our plane!”
“That would have been just too bad. But they didn’t, so you and I areto be attending a banquet in your honor tonight. It’s to be quite abrilliant affair. High-ranking officers from the armies of China, GreatBritain, and America are to be there. What’s more, you are to make aspeech.”
“Oh, no! Sparky,” she cried. “No! No! No!”
“It won’t be hard, not really,” he assured her. “They’ll want to knowabout the first overseas trip made by a WAF. If you tell them half thethings that have happened to you, they’ll be forever convinced that theladies of the Ferry Command can really take it.”
“Since you put it that way,” Mary replied soberly, “I’ve got to accept.”
“That’s the girl!” Sparky applauded.
Mary could be quite the lady when occasion demanded. The wife of aflying Colonel took her under her wing to help her with dress andmake-up. The beautiful gown she had worn in Egypt was still at hand andso it happened that a young flying lieutenant was heard to remark asshe entered:
“_That_ glorious dame! She never flew a plane in her life!”
Catching the words, Mary blushed, but forgave the lieutenant on thespot.
Had not the very substantial Sparky, still in his uniform, been seatedat her side to nod in confirmation to every strange tale she told,there might have been many an older head that would have questioned herstory. As it turned out, she was quite the lady of the hour.
For all that, when she found Sparky next morning, the first thing sheasked was: “When do we leave and how?”
“We’re leaving the good, old Lone Star behind,” he admitted sadly.“It’s needed for fighting China’s battles.”
“Then I’ll forgive them,” she replied instantly. At that moment she wasonce again seeing shadowy forms and a heavy plane moving down a darkhighway, and hearing the crippled Hop Sing tell the story of his bravepeople.
“But how—”
“How are we going to America? Is that it?”
“Yes, and where is our roll of papyrus?”
“The papyrus is still in the secret compartment on our plane. We’ll goand get it right now. You’ll carry it in your traveling bag.”
“Just for luck.”
“Luck and perhaps a little further adventure.
“As to our mode of travel to San Francisco,” he added, “I’m told thatwe are to travel just as we have done in America after we havedelivered a job.”
“By transport plane?”
“That’s it.”
“Dull but restful,” she sighed. “I’m all for it.”
Two days later, together with a score of officers and men of officialdistinction, bound for home on leave or on business, they climbedaboard a giant airliner and headed out over the Pacific. After longhours of travel they came swooping down upon a broad island airfieldthat, as far as they are concerned, will remain forever unnamed.
Here they were greeted by hundreds of American soldiers who, at first,stared at Mary in disbelief, then let out a lusty cheer.
Beneath the palms that night, with only the stars for light, and withsoldiers, sailors and nurses as an audience, Mary told her story allover again.
In the very midst of her talk, someone set a shiny object down beforeher, then whispered:
“You’re doing great, sister. Keep right on.”
Cheered by the marvelous attention of her audience, she talked for anhour only to learn in the end, what she had suspected all along, thatthe last half of her talk had been broadcast by short wave to America.
“Now there’ll be no living with you, Mary,” Sparky laughed as heescorted her to the nurses’ tent where she was to spend the night.
“In Heaven’s name, why?” she exclaimed.
“You’re famous!”
“Nothing like that,” she laughed. “Just a flying fool of the FerryCommand.”
From here they hopped along in a leisurely manner to Honolulu.
Many a time in her younger days Mary had dreamed of sitting beneath thepalms on the Hawaiian Islands. But on this trip she had seen palms inBrazil, North Africa, Egypt, Persia, India, China and the islands ofthe sea.
“What’s one palm more or less?” she said to Sparky. “Here’s hoping wecatch an early plane home.”
They were obliged to wait two days before the long hop for SanFrancisco. It was on the evening of their last day at Honolulu, whilethey were seated in the lounge of their hotel, that a real thrill cameover them as they listened to the radio.
“Listen!” Sparky sat up suddenly. Mary shifted to face the radio.
“We are now permitted to report,” said a voice in far away China:“that, four days ago, Tokio was heavily bombed by an airforce of greatstrength and that an enormous amount of damage was done to steel mills,airplane factories and other objectives. All our planes returned safelyto their base.”
“Here it comes!” Mary whispered tensely.
“It’s the pay-off,” Sparky agreed.
“Here in the studio with me now,” the voice on the radio went on, “isFlight Commander Major Tom Cole. Major Cole, will you tell us a littleabout that raid?”
“I certainly will,” came in another voice. “It was magnificentlyplanned and executed with great daring and tremendous success.”
“Were you able to sight your objectives?”
“And how! Those bombardiers just laid those blockbusters right on topof the targets.”
“Was much damage done?”
“I should say that fully a third of the factories, mills, and steelmills in the Tokio
area had been put out of commission for weeks,perhaps months.”
“And Tokio itself?”
“All I can say is that if I lived in a paper house, I’d never start awar.”
“Thank you, Major. Oh! One thing more. There is a rumor about that agirl, Mary Mason, of the WAFS, had something to do with the success ofthis effort. Could this be true?”
“Not only could it be true—it is true. Much of the success of thismission is due to the loyal service of the young lady you mentioned. I,of course, can’t give you details. I will say that she no longer is inChina.”
“In Honolulu, perhaps.”
“I wouldn’t know. Those gals really get about. All I want to say isthat, wherever Mary Mason is tonight, our hats are off to her. Everyman who flew on that mission would be glad to shake her hand.”
“And so ladies and gentlemen—” The broadcast ended.
“Oh!” Mary breathed, sinking deep into her big chair. “What did yousay, Sparky—the pay-off?”
As Mary started for her room a short while later a reporter stepped upto her.
“Might you be Mary Mason?” he asked in a low voice.
“I might and I might not. You should know that we are not permitted todivulge secrets to strangers, particularly when we are on duty.” Oncemore Mary was on her way.
* * * * *
When they landed in San Francisco one morning at nine, Mary carried amysterious package under her arm.
“Sparky,” she said, “I’ve carried this roll of papyrus half way roundthe world. The first thing I want to do in America is to get rid of it.”
“Okay, I’m with you,” was his quick response, “We’ll sit on a stoollong enough for coffee, toast, and bacon, then we’ll be on our way.”
When, three hours later, they alighted from a cab before an imposinghome hidden behind tall shrubbery in one of the city’s finest suburbs,Mary’s hands gripped the roll of papyrus. Her tense fingers trembledslightly as, with Sparky at her side, she marched up the winding walk.
“This is the place,” she whispered.
“And this the hour,” he agreed. “Keep a stiff upper lip. Everythingwill be fine and dandy.”
“All the same, I don’t like it.” She gripped his arm. “I’d rather beright up there in the sky.”
“Even in Burma?”
“Yes, even that.”
Just then a half block away, a heavy car slid up to the curb. Threehusky men sprang out and marched briskly up the street.
“The cast is all here. The stage is set,” Sparky whispered, as he rangthe door bell.
Their ring was answered at once. A blonde-haired maid ushered them in.She led them to a door, tapped, then waited.
“Come in! Come in!” a large voice welcomed as the door swung open. “Ihave been expecting you.” The large, red-faced man waved them to chairsclose by his mahogany desk.
“Now we shall see!” He breathed heavily as his hand gripped the roll ofpapyrus. “Perhaps this is genuine, and perhaps not.”
After unrolling the parchment, he sat for a full minute studying thefirst, full sheet through his thick glasses—so intently that one mighthave said he was trying to read something not written there at all.
Sparky gave Mary a meaningful look.
“Yes,” the big man drew in a deep breath, “this is genuine, and shouldbe of great service to humanity by revealing the real life of thosestrange beings who lived so long ago. You have been at great pains tobring this to me.”
“He doesn’t know the half of it,” Mary thought, smiling to herself.
“You must allow me to pay you for your trouble,” he went on. “How muchdo I owe you?”
“Oh! Noth—but nothing.” Mary hated herself for stammering. “But I wishyou would look at all the sheets and per—perhaps count them,” sheadded hesitatingly.
“Very well. I shall do as you say.” The big man’s thumb and fingerreached for the first sheet. Sparky half rose in his chair. Fromoutside came a faint sound.
“One,” the big man counted, “two, three, four—”
Mary’s heart fluttered.
“And then—” The big man did not finish. Instead he sat there staringand as he did so his face purpled. A slip of paper had been insertedbetween the sheets of papyrus. On it had been written these words:
“You are Peter Schwartz.”
That was all. This could have been a harmless trick had he not foryears lived in America under quite another name, and had not PeterSchwartz been wanted for some time by certain gentlemen who made theirhomes in Washington.
Half rising in his chair, the big man reached for the right-hand drawerof his desk. Sparky beat him to it, striking his arm down. And then thebig man found himself surrounded by three men, each as large as himselfand more powerful.
A pair of handcuffs clicked. “Come on, Schwartz,” one of the men saidgruffly while another lingered for a word with Mary and Sparky.
“Nice work,” he commended. “The F.B.I. owes you a debt of gratitude, asdoes our government.”
“Most of the credit goes to Mary’s father,” said Sparky.
“And to his friends, the Egyptologist and the one who knows so muchabout lights.” Mary amended.
“You see,” said Sparky. “As soon as we showed them the roll of papyrusthey put a sheet of it under the infra-red light.”
“And that brought out all sorts of things you couldn’t see with theeye,” Mary broke in. “Maps, charts, figures and all kinds of messagesin code.”
“Enough to tell our enemy all they’d like to know about Egypt,” theF.B.I. now agreed. “They’ll never know now. The proper sort of bathwill remove all their fancy maps and messages. And then—” he paused.“What about that roll of papyrus?”
“Let us know when you’re through using it as evidence,” said Sparky.“Then we’ll try to find out what will happen to it next.”
Ten minutes later they were once more out in the glorious sunshine oftheir native land. Sparky hailed a cab and together they rode to thelittle hotel where the girls of the Ferry Command stay when they are inthe city.
As they entered the lobby Mary saw one of the girls she knew.
“Greetings,” she called.
“Same to you,” came back. “Where did you just come in from?”
“Been round the world,” Mary smiled slyly.
“Oh, yeah?” Then the girl’s look changed. “Say, that’s right! You’reMary Mason! I heard you on the radio!”
“Oh! I hoped no one would hear!” Mary was startled.
“Everybody did. Say! It was great! And now all the girls want to crossthe ocean. And say! There’s a telegram for you at the desk! Yes, and aletter.”
“A telegram! A letter!” Mary marched to the desk, received thetelegram, and the letter, then stood staring.
The letter had given her a real thrill. It was not really a letter,only a picture on a postcard with some writing on the back. The picturewas of a fine young American soldier in uniform. On its back she read:“You asked for it, so here it is.” It was signed “Jerry Sikes.”
“That boy in South America,” she whispered. “How grand!”
But the telegram?
“What’s the matter? Bad news?” Sparky asked.
“I’ll say so!” Mary made a face. “It’s from the WAF central office.They’ve booked me to appear before three women’s flying clubs. I’m torecruit fliers for our organization. Oh, when will we two fly again?”
“Time enough for that,” said Sparky. “Just let me know when yourlecture tour is over and I’ll see what can be cooked up.
“Well, Mary,” he said as their hands met, “you saw a lot of nice boyson that trip.”
“I sure did, Sparky.” Her eyes shone. “But the best of them all—”
“Was the gray-haired one who met you in Egypt,” Sparky said smilingly.
“That’s right, Sparky—my dad—but next to him, the finest of them allwas the guy who went with me
all the way.”
“Thanks, Mary. I’m glad you feel that way, for you’re the grandest girlI know. I’ll be seeing you.” He turned to march away.
“Oh! Gee!” Mary thought. “Life sure is funny! Some of the things thathappen to you make you feel all funny inside, but when there’s a warand you’re in it, you just have to let it go—for the duration.”
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