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Scourge of the Steel Mask

by Robert J. Hogan

From the very fires of Hell he came to wreak havoc and death on all civilization. G-8--America's Flying Spy--combats a fiend inhuman and barbaric--a fiend whose henchmen are the dregs of the Earth, and whose hate is fiercer than the forces of nature--The Steel Mask!



"You will pardon my excitement?" the Frenchman said. "I am located with the 11th flying corps at Epinar. That, monsieur, is far to the east,--well into the Vosges mountains."

"There is practically no activity in our area," the Frenchman continued. "So I turned the nose of my plane this afternoon toward the Black Forest. There, monsieur, is where I came upon this strange happening.

"I had meant to go only a little way over the forest to get a good view of the great, dark area and see the shadows that the sun cast as it went down. Then I sighted a fair-sized captive balloon looming out of the tree tops. As I flew closer to investigate, I saw a basket hanging from it. There was a large man in it, dressed in a German uniform and holding an instrument of some kind. I decided it couldn't be a gun, because it had no opening at the end of the muzzle. In fact, it was plugged and larger there. Both the bag of the captive balloon and the basket bore a black cross.

"I aimed my guns and was about to fire when the man leveled his instrument at me and braced himself as though he were about to fire the weapon. At that instant, my engine stopped dead and I was forced to drop my nose sharply to keep my propeller from stalling."

"Was there any sound from this weapon that you mentioned?" G-8 asked.

The Frenchman shook his head.

"Non, none whatever."

"And what did you do?"

"There was a field below, monsieur, one large enough for me to land in. But I saw that the cable from the balloon went down to the edge of this field and since I had a good altitude, I decided to try and get back near my own lines. I realized that this must be a trap in which to capture Allied planes. I kept my nose pointed down quite sharply so that the wind would keep my propeller turning over although my engine was still dead. The German was still pointing his weapon at me. I knew that I couldn't possibly reach my own lines but I decided I'd rather crash in the Black Forest than be drawn down into that trap."

"But you didn't crash," Nippy cut in.

The French pilot shook his head.

"Non, monsieur," he admitted. "Just as I had given up hope, my engine began to splutter and it started running again. I flew directly to aerial headquarters to get gas and report what had happened. They sent me here."


Price: $4.95

Format: Electronic PDF File
52 Pages
First Published: 1937

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