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< ADMIT ONE BY SIDNEY HORI.KK SYNOPSIS When I'hlllp Crane, a young aeroplane *>lnr. arrive* In London on a holiday, through a coincidence of like name*. h I* taken for the crook Crane, who '.* & tool of a band ruled by a mynterlou* "Knipremi." He rescues MaiK-ry Ferguw* n<l take* her to a convent. He then guai to Handling In Kent to reiicue her father. M-nwlill". Charlra Whittlr. an Ameri- can detective la trailing a band nf forg- r. Hy close confinement The Rmprea* Hopes to I- ii'l Ferguon' will to her own. I'hlllp, while reconnolterlng "The White House." comes to blows with an unknown Hssallant who proves to !> Whittle. Crane foolhardily HtlctnplH to gst Into the tioune. CHAPTER XI.- (Cont'd.) the darkness, his right hand holding tightly noiseless automatic- There were six bullets in that gun, and if he found it necessary, he was prepared to use them all- He had gone perhaps twenty yards, and was fumbling to get clear <>' tome kind of shrubbery int which he had stopped, when he heard a voice, tense and dramatic, behind him. "Come on, you fool; he's in front- _ I heard him." Whittle's life had made him a quick thinker, and this faculty was consid- erably strengthened in an emergency. He did not require much mental a heavy thud on the other .!<!? of the gates. With astonishing ability for a man of his bulk, Whittle clambered ip the fragile ladder, reached the top, and then, without hesitation, hurled him- self into space- It meant the risk of a broken leg, or, at the least, a sprain- ed ankle; but he had to take that chjjnce. By the time he had regained his feet, Crane was by his side. "What was that scream?" asked the younger man. "Never mind we must get away. They'll be searching for us." (To be continued.) Recovering himself, Crane started : churning to decide now that he had to move towards the light which glim- mered fitfully throuph what must have been a dw?p belt of shrubbery. The thought did not cross his mind that he would have been glad of the com- pany of the fellow who had told him he was an American detective but the t-hap had had cold feet, and there wms an end to it: tl,is was not a job for faint hearts. Although he stepped as lightly as possible, he knew he was walking on a gravel path from the slight scrunch- ing sounds made by his feet. To the right was a broad carriage way, evi- dently leading to the garage. But that must not be his route. Anyone from the occupied room might be able to see his figure; his way must bt Ihrough the shrubbery. Stopping, he started to creep a way through the somewhat thick under- frowth. His face was scratched every BOW and then by thick twigs and what must have been holly leaves; but, after five minutes or so. this minor purgatory was at an end. He stood n a piece of turf only twelve yards or so away from the room which was his objective. His pulse beat quicker as he noticed two or three figures outlined against tke window The curtains had not been drawn, and it was possible to look straight into the room. He had come to far that it was impossible to think f returning without having achieved some definite purpose. If he got close up to the window, he might either hear some important piece of informa- tion, or perhaps The thought, mad a* it was, crossed his mind of attempt- ing to break the glass, leap into the room, pick up the prisoner if there waa a prisoner in his arms, and rush away with him, much after the fa- shion of a preposterous but exciting thriller which he had read in the train coming up from Truro. There was this danger, however: he had to cross that intervening space, with the risk that anyone taking a glance out of the window would in- evitably notice him- Yea, ;f he gut down on all-fours- Before he could start to crawl for- ward on this second portion of his journey, from somewhere behind, a kavy form rammed itself down with terrific force upon his back. His face " ><> mistaken in the darkness for a companion of the speaker. The lat- ter, of course, must be one of the men placed in the grounds to act as guards to the house. He whispered back in a strained voice: "All right I'm coming." He had to take the risk of his voice being some- thing akin to that of the supposed second guard. If the first man evinc- ed any sign of suspicion, he would I ave to deal with him with his gun. But, as it happened, the word* were received with nothing more alarming than a peremptory: "Well, don't waste any more time, then." Stepping on his toes, as agile aa any ballet dancer, Whittle moved forward. He had pulled his hat well down over wearing or his frame, must have been different to what the second man had expected, because, when he was within couple of yards, the other started forward. World Flight Of all the niTve-wracking moments that the lion. Mrs. Victor Bruce ex- perienced during her lone flight round the world, that time when she made a forced landing in a jungle clearing on the borders of Siam must have been the worst. The torrential rain, she tells us in ''The Bluebird's Flight," had saturated the engine of her little machine ; she was literally miles from anywhere, and night was coming on. At its greatest length the clearing was not more than a hundred and eighty yards; "Bluebird" needed a hundred and fifty in which to rijo, and there were high trees all round. She swung the propeller, but there was no sign of life in the engine. Hurriedly she changed the sparking plugs and cleaned the magneto points. Still nothing happened: I sat on the edge of the wing to take breath. How oppressively hot it was! Perspiration was pouring down my face. I felt I hadn't the strength to keep swinging that heavy propeller- I knew if the throttle were opened more fully there might be a better chance of getting the engine to start but I dared not do this without some- 1 chine from moving forward. pressed relentlessly into the hard ground. The pain was intense so agonising in fact, that he waa mo- mentarily stunned, and, during thoce few seconds of stupefaction, three merciless blow* descended upon the bark of his head, and he remembered othing more. Still swearing beneath his breath, Whittle waited. It was useless, he de- cided, to attempt to rush throug the gate*, which were rapidly closing. There must be men on the other side, although he had not been able to se them. He had only caught sight of a flying figure which he knew must be the young fellow who had said his name was Crane. The latter had got away with a good start, but he had been able to keep track of hi move- anento by the sound his fet made in the silence of the night- One thing waa certain: if Crane was captured, he would probably be killed. Though he had no definite information about the occupants of "The White House," the hint which George Melton had given was sufficient for him; here was the headquarters of a gang of crooks who would stop at nothing to gain their ends. Still, he had come there for a cer- tain purpose and this was strength- ened now by the action of the young Englishman. Although he had tried to persuade Crane not to enter the grounds, he hlrrwelf had resolved to Cinto the place, by hook or crook, ore the night was much older. Waiting sufficiently long to endea- vor to catch any sound coming from the other lid* of the gates, he took from his pocket what proved to b ilght, pliable, silk ladder. He flung Ibe top of this so that it caught on two of the spike* of the gates. Then, swaying slightly, he mounted to the top, drew the ladder over to the other aide, and descended in the name way There was a brief hesitation whilst he debated whether he should leave the ladder on the gate, or replace 11 in his pocket. He decided on the first alternative. If pursued, he would be able to save in this way several valu able seconds. Stepping remarkably light for a man of his build, he crept forward in ISSUE No. 332 He said no more. Whittle, moving quickly forward, hit the man clean on the point of the jaw before any fur- ther words could escape. The blow was shrewdly aimed and the fellow went down like a log- Th detective waited. There must be another near at hand. But no at- tack come. Instead, from somewhir* in front, proceeded the sounds -of a scuffle- Crane being attacked? He moved forward rapidly- * Philip opened his eyes wonderingly. It waa the American detective bend- ing over him, and not an enemy. "How did you get here?" he aaked slowly. "If you hadn't rushed off like a young fool, we'd have been together," was the reply; "as it was, I found my way here by luck and she helped me like the lady she is. But there's no time to waste talking we've got to get away, my lad. How are you feel- ing now?" Whilst saying the words, the detec- ive hauled the other to his feet. Crane ooked around blinking. "Someone gave me some crack on he head with something that felt like sledge-hammer," he said. "But," hrusting out a foot and gingerly try ng it, "I'll be all right. Look." Al- hough he swayed unsteadily, Crane ir<>ved he could walk. "Good! Now, then, steady; it's a wonder to me those fellows in that room haven't heard anything already. Quietly, I tell you!" By this time they were making their way through the undergrowth to th* gates. "Did you climb over?" whispered Tan* "Not a chance," said the American; 'I prepare for emergencies of thl n. (i. Whilst he was talking, he won- dered if the rope ladder would .still be where he had left it hanging from two spikes of the gate*-. If not, their re- treat would be cut off with a ven- geance. But i -n.i . Luck, who had been his guiding star so far that night, still proved loyal to him- When they reach- ed the gates, casting quick glances to right and left to se if the two men tie had put out had been substituted >y others, the rope ladder was visible "Up with you," he urged. Crane merely waited to steady his aching head for a moment after the recent exertion. Then, without ques tioning the order he started to climb. He was half way up when an urgent felt desperate ; precious moments were being lost. The sun had already sunk below the trees. I returned and gave the propeller another desperate swing. The engine burst into life, and 1 leapt into the cockpit and manipulated the throttle. For two or three seconds there was a spluttering and back- firing, and then the smooth, even firing to which my ears were so used. Finally she got t'p touching the tops of trees with the wheels of the under-carriage. Just out of the wood! A LANDING ON QUICKSAND. Another time, flying towards Jask, on the Persian Gulf, she found her oil pressure getting dangerously low. So she decided to come down on the sand near the water and fill up with some fresh oil she was carrying In the fuselage: As I landed I felt the wheels of the under-carriagc sink, and the nose of the machine dive downwards. At the same time I was shot violently for- ward against the windscreen. Amid a deafening sound of splintering wood and a smell of escaping petrol, I found myself hanging by my straps, the tail of the machine bolt upright in the air, and the engine buried out of sight in the soft ssnd. I had landed on quicksand! Half dazed she released herself, to find that she was on one of the most desolate stretches of desert on tho Gulf. Even when help came in the shape of some none too friendly na- tives the difficulty was to get "Blue- bird" on to its wheels again. But at last, although the wind was blowing hard, they succeeded: Oh, the joy! It seemed too good to Quality has no substitute t fie gardens' whUper canie from below. "Hurry, man," he heard Whittle say. For the American detective, on guard, had sen a number of figures rush from the house. Somehow or other, the alarm must have been given to the occupants of that lighted room- He wms in a ticklish dilemma. The ladder wouH not carry the weight of ' both, and Crane had not yet reached the top. Moreover, if he started to <Mlmb, they would both present adrnir- nble targets to their enemies. He decided to send the opposition a warning. The bullet from his noiseless automatic aped into the night. But the aftermath was heard distinctly; a hideous scream shattered the mlenoe. ' Charles Whittle realized that if he| had not actually killed a man, he must have mortally wounded one- After thin it would be wnr to the knife. Glancing up, he saw that his com- panion had now reached the top. A i few . : later came the sound of Hon. M;ir.;a:'"t Kiilhvcn, iliiu^li- ter of Lord Rullivt-n, governor of Jersey, Is engaged to marry Peter Havles, godson of Sir James Har rlo and said to be tlie original of "Peter Tan". be true to have got it back again with- out damage, for usually when a ma- chine has landed on its nose it is a tricky business to right it, requiring skilled labor, ropes, and other mater- ial for lifting. I was delighted, and was naturally smiling; the Baluchis were so pleased that they joined hands and began to dance round the aero- plane. They insisted that I should joint their "ring o' roses," but I soon stopped, for the heat was terrific, and I felt that 1 should quickly become exhausted unless I got under shelter. THE BUYING OF "BLUEBIRD. 1 Such were some of the incidents that enlivened Mrs. Bruce's flight. Truly it was one of the most amazing adventures of modern times. Here was a woman, who, a little more than a fortnight before starting, had been up in the air only once, gaily setting out to fly round the world via India, Ja- pan, and America. The buying of "Bluebird" is a story in itself. Havii.g an hour or so to spare before lunch, Mrs. Bruce was strolling towards Bond Street In a shop window she saw a little bluc-and-silver aeroplane: Somthing influenced me to step in- side and ask the price of the machine. "Five hundred and fifty pounds," replied the salesman. I was about to leave the shop when he added: ". . . and chromium plat- ing is only five pounds extra." That settled it. It was just like buying a motor-car. "Chromium plat- ing five pounds extra!" I had always imagined that aeroplanes were extra- ordinary things, and yet this machine seemed so very ordinary. "Could one fly round the world in this?" I asked. "Of course . . . easily!" was the reply. That settled it. In a week or two she was painting the name "Bluebird" on its nose, and was ready to be off. But no wonder a visitor, who asked a mechanic what "Bluebird's" registra- tion letters G-A.B.U.S. stood for, received the reply "A B Daft Stunt"! And no wonder that when she rang up her husband on reaching Munich to tell him "I'm here," he re- plied: "Where? In Kent?" ENGLAND IN SIAM. One of the interesting features of the flight was the fact that she never knew what fresh experience she might have on landing at some out-of-the- way aerodrome. Sometimes she had pleasant surprises at I.ukhon. in Siam, for instance, where the Siamese Governor came to er-cort her to his house : On arriving I was very interested to see how English everything wp.s- The interior of the house was a per- fect example of an old Elizabethan dwelling. The Governor was particu- larly proud of h's garden, and I was highly amused to see that even the banana trees were surrounded witn white paling to create the atmosphere of an English park. The entrance to his drive was also typically English, with a five-barred gate, and at the side an old-fashioned English stile. Round the porch was a great ftrch of foliage with masses of orchids. The found tea waiting for her not the usual Siamese tea, but served in English fashion with plenty of cream and sugar! THE EARTHQUAKE. After crossing the Yellow Sen fivo hundred miles of lonely water and eight hours of suspense she safely reached Japan. B<i'. her troubles were by no means over. She was told at her hotel not to worry if she felt the building shake, as thcro had be.n over two hundred small earthquakes that year: I had not been asleep more than three hours when suddenly I wns awakened by my bed shaking violent- ly. At first I thought "So this is Japan," and turned over an<l tried to go to sleep again. But the shocks be- came more violent, and I simply had to lit up and take notice. Then the whole room began to move. A hor- rible thought struck me. An earth- quake and a bad one! ... I tried to turn on the light, but it wouldn't work. Sparks were coming out of the electric radiator. The whole hotel was in darkness. Every second the building shook more violently. There was a crash just beside me; two china vases had fallen from the mantel- piece; it was almost impossible to ..cep my feet. Needless to say, she had arrived just in time for one of the woriit earthquakes of the year! It was a wonderful flight nineteen thousand miles in a tiny machine with an open cockpit, through twenty-three countries, and across three continents and Mrs. Bmr* has written a won- derfully good rm.Vn about it. It is j sensible, strain'- --rv.ard and full of humor for sht ' > light of all her dangers. One cannot help echoing the wondering admiration of the air- mail pilot in America, that country of huge aeroplanes, who wrote on "Blue- bird's" side the words: "The bally thing flies, by Jove!" -*> Seeing Stars New counts of the number of stars that could be seen with perfect tele- scopes or unlimited power to gather light and magnify images were an- nounced by astronomers of Mount Wilson Observatory at the annual ex- hibit of scientific work by the Carnegie Institution of Washington, held recent- ly in that city. The number of stars visible to an unaided human eye prob- ably is not over 6,000, but even a small telescope increases this number many times. Large telescopes, like the great 100-inch one at Mount Wilson, which Is the largest in the world, show millions of stars even in a small part of the sky. The possibility of a complete count depends, however, upon the fact observed with these large telescopes that the stars are not scattered through space as far as these giant In- struments can see. On the contrary, it Is found that all of the individual stars which can be seen belong to a limited star cloud of which onr sun li one. Earthly astronomers necessarily see this cloud from inside looking out, like one insect looking out through a vast cloud of other insects. Calcula- tions based on the numbers of stars visible in the 100-inch telescope in dif- ferent directions outward from the earth have made possible an estimate of the distance at which the stars be- gin to thin out, marking the edges of the star cloud. These calculations In- dicate that the total number of stars in this cloud probably Is 30 or 40 bil- lion, about six or seven million times as maty as can he Keen liy the naked eye. A Schwab Story Charles M. Schwab, steel magnate, does not claim to be much of an ora- tor. But he does tell some good stories. At a recent banquet, according to Editor and Publisher, Mr. Schwab told of a farmer who aproached him. "I've got a cow I want to sell to you, Charlie," the neighbor said. "Yes, would she fit into my Guern- sey herd?" "No, I dunno as she would." "Has she got anything to recom- mend her?" ! "Wall, I dunno as shO has." "Does she give lots of milk?" "No, I can't say as she gives lots of milk, but, Charlie, I can tell you this: She's a kind, gentle, good-dispositioned old cow and if she's got any milk she'll give it to you." What most increases anger is the feeling that one is in the wrong. Jean Paul RIchter. 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