Our knowledge of the upper air is very limited. The highest point a human being has ever ascended in a free balloon is about seven miles. What exists beyond this, we do not know. Our new author presents a very unusual, as well as complex situation, with a typical O. Henry ending. As to ourselves, we enjoyed the story hugely and the chances are that you will too.

The Terrors of the Upper Air

Pemberton, the Great Detective, renowned as never having failed to get his man, spoke to the Secretary of the President of the State Fair, and passed on to the President’s office door marked “Private.” He entered without knocking.

“Well! What happening is responsible for this visit?” The President sprang up and grasped Pemberton’s hand and pulled a chair out for him. “You are not in the habit of calling on me lately except on business. Who are the unlucky people at the Fair that you want? For my guess is that you are after some poor birds.”

Pemberton sat down and placed his hat on the President’s desk. “You are right to call them birds. I am after your human birds, and they can’t particularly be called ‘poor’—not now, anyhow.”

“What!” exclaimed the President, as he half rose in his seat, “surely you are not after Kidwell and Dexter, the aviators who are flying for the Fair.”

“The very two men I am after.”

“But what have they done? It must be something serious.”

“It is serious. You remember the Windsor Bank Robbery of over a week ago, where the cashier was killed and nearly a half a million dollars, mostly in large bills was stolen? The two men who did the job escaped in an auto. They were chased to a large wooded tract just about nightfall. When the pursuers closed in, they found the car but the men and the money were gone.”

“I remember that and also the mystery of their escape from the hundreds of men that surrounded the woods.”

“They did not escape through this fence of men, but over them. As soon as I had gone over the ground, I found tracks of where an aeroplane had made a short run in a break in the woods and could easily have shot upwards above the trees and away. The place was far enough from the edge of the woods, to enable the roar of the motor to go unheard as the two men fled away in the night.

“The run to the woods and the flight in the aeroplane was most likely planned ahead by the two men and would have remained undiscovered had it not been for a mark made in the soft ground by two small cuts in one of the aeroplane tires. It was one chance in a thousand that we ever found the aeroplane tracks and one in a million that it left the print of these two small cuts in the tire’s tread. Hundreds of aeroplanes are being driven across that part of the country each day and it would have been practically impossible to find the one that made the track if it had not been for the two small cuts. My men have informed me that the aeroplane of Kidwell and Dexter has a tire on it with two small cuts the same size and distance apart as the two marks left in the woods. I have just arrived and we expect to arrest the two aviators within the next few minutes. I thought I would notify you first, as I realize it will stop your exhibition flight for the Fair.”

“If these two men are murderers and robbers, as you state, I want you to arrest them at once—exhibition flight or no exhibition flight. You will have to hurry or wait until—listen—” The President broke off and turned his head to one side to hear better.

A roar of a multitude cheering came to the two listening men—the huge crowd at the Grand Stand were splitting the air with deafening cheers for something. “They are up and off.” The President continued after listening awhile. “You will have to wait until they come down. They are up to beat the world’s highest altitude record. Here is one of our advertisements for today. Read it.”

Pemberton took the paper that was handed him and read the following:

Kidwell and Dexter—the world’s most daredevil aviators will try to beat the world’s highest altitude record for an aeroplane. They will use the latest type of aeroplane with new wing devices for climbing and flying in the rarefied air of miles above the earth. They will carry an extra supply of oxygen. They will have the latest thing in wireless telephone instruments and will be in constant communication with the receiving station established in front of the Grand Stand. To the receiving instrument will be attached a sound magnifier and those within a radius of several hundred feet can listen to the account from the aviators’ own lips as they circle up—up—up.

Pemberton handed the paper back and inquired, “How long will it take them to make the flight?”

“About two or three hours is all they figured they would need,” he answered.

Pemberton decided to go to the receiving station to listen, and the President went with him.

The two men made their way across the crowded Fair Grounds until they came in front of the large Grand Stand. Here a crowd of several thousand people were jammed around a platform on which were a few men, and a table of instruments, the largest part of which were four huge phonograph-like horns that faced in four directions. They made their way through the crowd and had just climbed to the platform, when a voice issued from the horns. The words were:

“Have just reached three thousand feet.”

Looking upwards, Pemberton could see a speck circling above and rapidly growing smaller. It was the aeroplane winging its way ever higher and higher. He leaned over to the President, “How is it we can hear their voices and can not hear the roar of the motor? On the ground it was impossible to hear a voice because of the deafening roar of an aeroplane motor.”

The President leaned over and tapped one of the men on the shoulder, who was tinkering with the instrument, and said, “Billy, tell Mr. Pemberton here about the wireless telephone—tell him why one can hear a voice from above and yet not hear the roar of the motors.”

Billy dropped into a chair next to Pemberton and keeping one eye on the instrument, explained:

“Kidwell and Dexter are using the same kind of wireless telephone instruments that our aviators in France had begun to use when the war ended, to communicate with each other and with headquarters. You know sound is vibration of the air and travels in waves and in a straight line unless turned aside by something. The aviator’s instrument is like a helmet and covers most of his head. The receivers are flat and lie over his ears. The outside sound is deadened by the padding in the helmet and it was found that it would be necessary for the padding to cover most of the lower jaw to kill the outside sound. The mouth-piece, the part they talk into, is fastened directly in front of the mouth. It is padded to stop the outside sound. Only a tube-like opening directly even with the person’s mouth is left unpadded. There are three or four small holes in the tube and when the person talks, his voice is thrown straight through the small openings and makes the instrument work while other sounds pass by as the waves do not get a straight entrance to the diaphragm.”

“Both the receivers and the mouth-piece have wires running to a plug in the side of the aeroplane which connects with the batteries and instrument that send the wireless waves in all directions and reach us; they also catch any that we should send and transfer it to speech when it reaches the ears. Instead of the usual receiving instrument, we have hooked on a sound magnifier here, so that everybody can hear directly. Now the very—”

“One mile up and everything is running fine.”

The voice of one of the men from the speck above spoke from the horns. A cheer greeted the announcement.

“Who is doing the talking?” Pemberton asked.

“Kidwell will do all the talking because it is he who is equipped with the long distance sending and receiving apparatus. Dexter can talk with Kidwell and Kidwell can talk with Dexter by changing the plug at the side of the machine, so he is directly connected with Dexter. Dexter is the pilot in the rear seat and will drive unless something happens. If something should happen, Kidwell can drive as they have double controls.”

“Hey, below! We are having fun up here chasing toy balloons. Those that have been let loose on the Fair Grounds have reached this far up. There are twenty or thirty in sight. We have run down three or four. One was thrown back by the propeller’s draft and hit Old “Dex” on the head and busted. He would have jumped out of his seat if he were not tied down with a safety belt. Thought part of the machinery had hit him, I guess. We are climbing in circles and staying over the Fair Grounds as nearly as we can. The hand on our instrument is gradually crawling near two miles and we can begin to tell it is getting very cold. We feel sorry for you poor land mortals below sweating in that 100 degrees in the shade. But say, ‘you don’t have to stay in the shade’—Ha, Ha!”

The sound of Kidwell’s laughter from two miles above roared through the horns. It ceased and no other sound came from above for several minutes.

“Got another balloon; caught it alive this time; going to tie my pipe to it and drop it overboard. The pipe will pull it down. Tell the kids down there I will give five dollars to the one who gets it and I will wring their necks if any of them busts my pipe. Here she goes—”

Cheers and laughter greeted this last announcement and many small boys jammed in the crowd began to crowd and squirm frantically to get out into the center field where they could watch for Kidwell’s pipe pulling a toy balloon down.

“You below! We are going to have trouble in just a minute. Saw several balloons above us snatched and rushed east at a speed that makes us look like a snail. It’s one of those terrific wind currents that different persons have discovered two or three miles up. We will be O. K. when we get in it, but going from slow to fast air is going to give us some rough riding. We are starting; I can feel our old machine beginning to pitch. Here we go!— God, we are pitching and spinning like a leaf. We are on our tail—now we are upside down. Over we go sideways—now we are level—whew, we just made a complete flip-flop. It’s a wonder we hold together—we are rocking and pitching like a row boat on a stormy ocean.

“We are getting up in the main current and don’t pitch so much. It is all I can do to hold my dinner down. I’m sea-sick—we are heading west, but I think we are losing several miles a minute as this terrific air current drifts us east.”

A deadly hush fell on the crowd below as they pictured the aeroplane being tossed and pitched about in one of the mighty air currents that are found miles above the earth. They could see the two men fighting to keep their machine right side up, as they fought through the eddies and whirls at the edge of the current and into the steady but fast moving air of the center. When Kidwell announced that they had made it, a mighty cheer went up. Several minutes passed and no sound came from the men miles above—then——

“Hurrah for the Liberty Motor—we just had another fight to get out of the big current and are now in still air above it. We were pitched and flung about, upside down and every which way, just as when we entered it. Our Motor did not miss a lick. Old “Dex” got sick. I saw him gulping and raise his helmet and lean over, but nothing happened. Now we are riding smoothly. We are heading straight west instead of circling so as to gain the distance we were carried backwards in the big air current. It is getting cold. We are using oxygen from our tanks as the air is mighty thin here—Dex has just called my attention to our instrument—what do you reckon she reads?—whoop—she has touched it. She’s reached thirty thousand feet. We’ll make it. We’ll break that old world’s altitude record.”

A roar that shook the Grand Stand went up from the listening crowd below. For ten minutes they cheered and flung things in the air in their excitement. A few more minutes and the world’s highest altitude record would belong to America once more. The cheering died down and then broke out afresh.

“What is the world’s record?” Pemberton leaned over and shouted above the din into the president’s ear.

“A little less than thirty-five thousand feet,” the President answered in one of the partly quiet spells of the crowd.

“Thirty-one thousand” came from the horns,—only those right against them could hear, but they began to relay the news. “Thirty-one thousand.” Another deafening cheer rang out. The crowd became silent as the President raised his hand for silence and pointed to the horns.

“Thirty-two thousand and Old Dex grinning like a frog.”

This time only a laugh from the crowd greeted the announcement. They would hold their cheers for the last as they wanted to hear all now.

“It’s just about there—now it’s closer—just a little more—near—nearer—— Gee, it moves slowly—just ready to touch—now it touches—whoopee—it’s over—we have reached the world’s altitude record—now we have passed it.”

The Grand Stand roared and shook as the crowd below let loose. Hats flew high in the air, men thumped each other like boys. Once more the world’s altitude record belonged to America—to the United States—brought to it by the two dauntless aviators, far out of sight in the vast space above. Those in the Grand Stand began to stamp and shout in unison and stopped only when the stand threatened to break under the strains of the thousands of thumping feet. At the rear of the mass of people, a boy with a toy balloon struggled to get through to the platform.

“Hey, kid, look out or you’ll get hurt crowding in like that,” a man addressed him.

“I caught the pipe,” the boy cried as he held aloft a pipe tied to the balloon string.

“Kidwell’s pipe—Kidwell’s pipe”—the man shouted as he gathered the boy up and held him above the crowd’s head. From hand to hand they passed the boy to the platform, where the President of the Fair met him and led him to the front of the platform where the boy held up the toy balloon with the pipe tied to it. The boy was still panting, for he had caught the pipe nearly a quarter of a mile away and had run all the way back to the crowd, while other boys chased him. The President took a five dollar bill from his pocket and gave it to the boy and took possession of the pipe. The boy struck through the crowd, headed for the refreshment stands, while the President returned to his seat.

“Forty thousand feet up and cold as fifty North Poles.”

The people became quiet with awe. Not satisfied with breaking the world’s altitude record, these two daredevils were steadily climbing higher and higher. Forty thousand feet—miles high—how far would they go?

“We have just noticed a queer color of the air just a short way to our west, although we can hardly call it color. It might be just our imagination; anyway Dex has headed the machine in that direction—yes we notice the difference more as we get closer—turn her Dex—turn her— My God it’s a whirlwind—loop her back, Dex—turn——”

The last, regarding turning the machine, came from the horns in a shout and must have been meant for Dexter. It broke off suddenly as Kidwell must have changed the plug from below to connect with Dexter.

Thousands of eyes unconsciously looked upward, although all knew that it was impossible to see to the great height the aeroplane had attained. But all realized that something serious was happening miles above. What had happened? Would the aeroplane come flying down from above and land a shattered wreck?

Minutes passed and no voice was heard through the horn. The suspense became unbearable. Several more minutes passed and at last came—

“Hello, below,—we thought we were gone that time. We ran into a whirling draft of air of cyclone speed. Our machine was caught in it and we were pitched over and over like a feather, whirling, tossing, and tumbling. We were flung up—up—and up. We don’t know how far up we are now, because we were carried upward for many minutes at many miles a minute. Our instrument only registers sixty thousand feet and the hand reached that mark long before we were pitched out of the whirling mass and into still air. The current seems to come up and then turn east and we were flung to the top side. We must be fifteen or twenty miles high—way above any height we dreamed a person could fly. Our motor does not run as smoothly as it did below, but it is doing fairly well. We still have to use our own supply of oxygen. The movements of the machine are rather slow and sluggish. It might be that we are flying in air hurled up in that mighty up-rushing funnel of air from below. We can not understand it. We are circling about, getting our nerve back to make a dive for the earth. If we get through the high eastward current of air and miss the upward whirlwind, we will be O. K. If we hit the upward whirlwind, we will be flung back like a leaf. We can feel the intense cold through all our furs. It must be fifty degrees below zero. Nothing but space, space, space, as far as you can see and in every direction. You feel like loosening, your belt, stepping on the edge of the machine and stepping off into—nothing—you feel as though there were no world—no God—No——”

The voice broke off and then continued with a note of excitement in it.

“We have made a discovery; there are clouds up here—Dex just pointed several out to me and we are headed for them. They seem very dense as we get nearer.”

For several minutes the voice stopped and those below talked in suppressed excitement. They were past the cheering stage now. What had happened miles above the earth had made them curious and started them thinking. Then the voice came, quivering with a tone of excitement.

“People, below! I am going to make a statement to you that will seem unbelievable, a statement that will upset all past theories of the upper air. If I were not sure of bringing down proofs of my statements, I would not make it and I don’t even ask you to believe it, until we come back.

“People, below—there is vegetable and animal life here. We are now flying above a floating island of vegetable substance while around us and above are hundreds of other floating islands of the same substance. I have managed to catch a small handful of the substance as it floated in the air between the larger bodies of the same thing.

“It is nearly transparent, but has a pale greenish color. It is spongy and tough, being made up of a rubber-like material full of thousands of small gas pockets. It must be this gas that keeps it afloat at this great height. It grows on long rope-like branches like sea-kelp or some kind of moss. What we took for clouds were great masses of this plant matted together and floating about. I believe we could walk on these islands, but it would be impossible to land our aeroplane for it would sink too deep to get it out again.

“We have seen a small bat-like animal fly from one island to another. Another of the same kind of creatures is flying alongside us and keeps turning its head to watch us as though it wonders what we are. I believe it is as much surprised to see us as we are to see it. Dex has just notified me that he will try to run it down and wants me to catch or kill it. We must bring down proofs or we would never dare tell of such things as are up here. Here we go—we are after the bat-like animal. Zip!—the blamed little thing is gone; it was just fooling along with us and when we whirled to reach it, it shot away like a bullet. They are too speedy for us to run down. I was close enough to see that it was nearly the size and shape of a bat, except that it had a head like a bird with large owl-like eyes, and had a beak instead of a mouth with teeth. It was of the same pale sickly green like the plants we have found.

“Dex has spied something else ahead and is pointing for me to see but I fail to make it out. Now I see it. It is something long twisting through the air. It is turning and coming this way. It is another animal, or a reptile for it is more like a snake. No, not like a snake either, for it is about ten feet long and flat as can be. Its head is also formed with a beak. It looks like a huge ribbon floating through the air. It has turned and is flying above and to one side of us, looking down at us while it winds its way along. If we can get within striking distance, I will take a swipe at it with a wrench. I would like to bring it down—Look out, Dex—now—hold her steady.”

The last came in a shouted command and must have been meant for Dexter, then——

“That queer snake-like thing turned and in a flash had straightened out in a line and shot down on us like a bullet. It hit the top of our right wing and went through as though the wing were a spider web. Then it struck one of our stay wires and was split long ways for a foot or more. It clung to the wire, thrashing about, a blood of that pale greenish color oozing out. When I was ready to go out on the wing and try to get it, it fell on the lower plane and was blown off. It fell below to the plant island over which we are flying now. If it had struck either of us, it would have been death. A short distance more and we will make the dive for earth as our oxygen supply is getting low. I have been catching stray pieces of the plants of which the islands are made and have a bunch packed in the bottom of my cockpit. There is also a large bunch caught in the wires of our left wing and several small bunches caught in other places. These might hold fast until we get down. I have been wondering if the change of pressure on the plant and animals—if we can catch any animals to bring down—will cause them to contract. The effect on them should be just the opposite of the effect on the fish that have been brought up from two miles or more under the sea; when they came up, the pressure was so much less that some swelled up and exploded. I believe these animals would be pressed together more if brought to the denser air of the earth’s surface. This plant up here might be made good use of below at some future time and if—of all the sights—what monsters! What fierce fighting monsters. Look at the great gashes they are tearing in each other. They can’t last.

“Oh, I forgot, you below—we just turned a half circle around the end of a medium sized floating island and have come upon one of the most awful battles between two of the biggest and fiercest of monsters. One is like a large flying alligator, except that it has a huge beak and large bat-like wings. The other is shaped like an octopus, but has flat arms and two large balloon-like appendages on its back. It has a hellish beak. They are closed in one biting, clawing and choking mass. We are circling them and watching. The flying alligator just laid open one of the devil-fish of the air’s balloons. It shrank as though it were full of gas. Now they are whirling on the air so fast you can hardly tell what is happening. The alligator has lost the use of one of its wings. The octopus has wrapped several of its arms around it. They are starting to sink. They’re dropping, two of the arms, bitten off. Everything up here is that sickly green, both monsters are that color and they are bleeding the green blood —if it is blood. They are now covered with gashes all over their bodies. They can’t last much longer. There goes the other balloon. It shrinks—now they are falling.

“They don’t stop fighting. We are following them down and still circling around them. The two fighting air demons have fallen on the big island below us. They are hardly able to move. The alligator devil is now on top and rending the octopus to shreds. Its days are over. The flying alligator—for I don’t know what else to call it—is victor, but it will never be able to fly again. One wing is completely torn in shreds and the other is not much better. Its body is full of big wounds. The din of their screams and clashing of their beaks must have been awful. Where they came from or what they were fighting about, we do not know. It was one of the most terrific and most awe-inspiring sights, man ever witnessed.

“The flying alligator has risen on its hind legs and is trying to lunge itself into the air, but it can only flutter like a broken-winged bird. It is giving out its cry, as we can see by the motion of its beak.

“Dex shut off the motor for an instant and drifted close over its head. It uttered a piercing scream like a thousand wild cat whistles, and lunged up for us. I hate to think what would have happened if it had been able to fly. I believe it would have rent us in pieces in a second. We are leaving here right now, for Dex has pointed out another flying alligator about a mile away, which is coming this way. It must be answering the wounded one’s cries. It is traveling fast and coming from the north. We can see its giant, bat-like wings beating the air and it rises and falls at each stroke. We are speeding westward and as soon as we reach the edge of this extra large floating island over which we are flying, we will dive for the earth. We can not see the edge, but it cannot be over a mile or so. We have left the wounded flying alligator about a half mile back, and the other monster has already reached it and has circled above it once.

“God, it has turned and is headed after us, its huge wings beating faster than before. We must reach the edge and dive, for it travels twice as fast as our sluggish-acting machine. I am not scared, for I can see the edge about two miles ahead and we will reach it before the demon can overtake us. Another has dropped from above where the wounded alligator is and it, also, is now headed after us. Miles above the earth and being chased by two hideous monsters. Have you ever noticed birds flying? When they beat their wings downwards, they not only go forward, but partly upward as well, and when they raise their wings for another stroke, they sink a little instead of keeping a straight course ahead. That is the way these demons fly. Dex is giving our machine all it will take.

“The two demons are going fast, but we will reach the edge before they can catch us. God help us, another monster and straight ahead. We can not go that way and must turn south or north. No, not north for I see two coming from that direction. We are nearly surrounded and our only hope is south. I see the edge south, but it is a mile farther away than west. But we will make it. I don’t see any of the demons coming from that direction. Our machine is roaring at full speed, but we are not making over fifty or sixty miles in this rarefied air. The demons of this upper air are flying twice as fast and now there are nearly a dozen close on our trail and swiftly gaining.... We are near the edge and our danger is over. A minute more and we would have been lost, for now there are two monsters in front of us. We are surrounded, but we will reach the edge and will head down like a bullet before they can get near enough to head us off. Their screams are bringing other monsters from all directions.

“Just passed one of those hideous flying devil-fish and see another ahead and above us. We are just at the edge and are tipping down for our long dive. Will be with you in a few—— Dex, Dex, look out for the devil-fish. For God’s sake, look, Dex—— Oh, God, too late— We are done. Our propeller is shattered, we are falling. Look out below— No, we have fallen on the edge of the island. We are tearing through. No we have stopped. God, we are in a fix. The devil-fish flung itself at us and into our propeller and wrecked it and blocked the controls and we fell straight down. We are within a few hundred feet of the edge, the weight of the machine has sunk us until we rest in a sloping crater about fifty feet deep. The monsters are arriving and flying in circles above us. Our motor is quiet and when we raise our receivers, the screams and snapping of their giant beaks almost deafen us. Our only hope now is to reach the edge and trust ourselves to our safety parachutes.”

For several minutes the horns were quiet and the people jammed around them listening for further word from the two men in the void above. They whispered together in low under-tones and every minute or so their eyes traveled upward in an attempt to pierce the blind of the miles distance. But in vain. At last—it seemed hours, though it was only a few minutes—the voice came again.

“We took our parachutes from their holders on the side of the machine and started up to the top of the sink-hole we are in. The monsters began to come closer as we neared the top and one made a dive for us, so we retreated to the machine. They seem to be afraid to come into this pit we are in. We found a place on one side of the pit where the vegetable has been pulled until it has pulled apart and we can see below. We are going to this hole now and enlarge it sufficiently to enable us to drop through—all is clear below—so good-bye, but watch for us to come sailing down soon. We are carrying oxygen tanks with us to breathe.”

The voice ceased and the crowd began to watch above for any specks that might turn out to be the two men and their parachutes. Many minutes passed, then the voice came, a voice filled with a tone of despair and terror.

“They got poor Dexter. He went first, after we had enlarged the hole, and before he had dropped five hundred feet a dozen of the monsters were after him. Helpless in the parachute, they dived on him and dragged him up to the top of the island and tore him to shreds. Now they are screaming and snapping their beaks above this pit and are swooping nearer and nearer. Their taste of blood seems to have made them wilder. I will fight them from the cockpit and if I can hold out until night, I might drop through the hole and escape in the darkness. I have broken a spar loose for a club. They are coming closer. I struck at that one. It just missed my head. They are gathering in a bunch. They are diving for me in one mass. I’m lost—Good-bye.”

A shriek of a man in mortal agony and terror rang out in the air, followed by a shriek from the crowd. Then all was still. The people knew all was over in the far upper air. Men stood gazing upward, ghastly white, while women buried their faces in their hands and wept.

A dull thud was heard at the far side of the infield and people began to gather there on a run. A hole showed where something had fallen with enough force to bury itself. Hurriedly digging, they unearthed an oxygen tank, one of the tanks that Kidwell and Dexter had taken up with them. A cry from some people as they pointed aloft drew thousands of eyes in that direction. Fluttering and falling, something was coming down. Several hands grabbed it as soon as it came within reach. One uttered a cry and let go. He held up his hands in horror. They were wet with fresh blood.

A broken and torn part of an aeroplane wing, spattered with red blood, fell. Kidwell and the aeroplane must have been torn to pieces by the demons of the far upper air, and the tank and pieces of the plane scattered over the edge of the floating vegetable island, must have fallen to earth.

Another shout and once more all looked aloft. The air was full in all directions with thousands of fluttering pieces that looked like paper. When they fell among the crowd a shout of surprise went up.

“Money—Money—One dollar bills.”

Over the ground for miles around the Fair Grounds there fell a shower of one dollar bills. This was the last thing ever heard or seen of the two men and the aeroplane.

A few weeks later Pemberton and the President of the State Fair were talking in the President’s office. The President spoke:

“I have had two different planes up since Kidwell and Dexter were lost. The men went armed with shot guns and prepared for trouble. They were unable to find any upward current of air and they cruised all around in search of it. I am informed, though, that such a current would not necessarily always be in the same place, else it might stop altogether, just like winds near the earth. I have given up hope of anybody reaching the scene of the awful tragedy above.”

“If there ever was an awful tragedy above,” Pemberton added. The President looked at him in blank surprise.

“What?”

“I say if there ever was an awful tragedy above—if Kidwell and Dexter ever did get over two or three miles high.”

“What? Don’t you think that Kidwell and Dexter were killed by the monsters many miles above the earth, as they described? Why do you think they weren’t?”

Pemberton slowly answered:

“I don’t know what to think. There is no reason for my doubting the truth of their death miles above the earth. I have gone over it all hundreds of times, yet I can not make up my mind whether far above float the remains of two of the bravest men, or whether far away on the earth’s surface are two of the slickest rascals that ever lived. Did what Dexter described really happen or did they fly above out of our sight and concoct the story? Did they cast down an oxygen tank, smear blood on a piece of plane that they might have taken with them for the purpose, and cast it down to fool us? A small cut on a finger might have furnished the blood, and they might have cast down part of the stolen money. Why did only one dollar bills come down? Where are the half-million dollars of large bills? They could be floating far above with the wrecked plane. Where is the upward whirlwind? Still, it might have moved or died out. We might have listened to one of the most awful death struggles, or we might have been the victims of one of the cleverest jokes ever played on the public. And the men escaped with half a million dollars. Who knows?