Free The Avenger 30 - Black Chariots by Kenneth Robeson Page A

the old man said, “Funny thing, mister. They never did. It don’t make no sense.”
    “It makes sense if you realize they wanted to use your castle as a way station.”
    “Fer what? Who are these boys?”
    “Foreign spies,” the Avenger told him.
    “Well, I’ll be hogtied and dipped in sheepdip, if that don’t beat all,” said Old Man Guptill. “I didn’t even know they had spies these days. I figured that all went by the board when we trounced Kaiser Bill back in ’18.”
    The Avenger to the old man to his feet. “I’d better get you to a doctor.”
    “Not on your life, young feller. Old Man Guptill never leaves the vicinity of his treasure,” the old man insisted. “Bring the doc to me.”
    “Do you have a car?”
    “Nope, can’t see the need of one. Long as a man’s got a few good horses, he got no need for an automobile.”
    Benson almost smiled. “I’ll borrow one of the horses, then.”
    “Welcome to it, if them goons didn’t steal them all,” he said. He suddenly took hold of Benson’s arm. “Am I right in figuring they done took off?”
    “Yes, I’ve been through the entire castle. There’s no one else here.”
    Nodding, Old Man Guptill said “Well, sir, that’s good to hear. Sure, you go around to the stables and pick out my best horse. You know how to ride, don’t you?”
    “I do,” said the Avenger.

CHAPTER XVIII

A Chariot Ride
    Footsteps echoed on the metal floor. The huge oval room was chill, smelled of oil and fuel. Metal ribs fretted the walls and the ceiling.
    “Uncle Val’s ships,” said Jennifer in a low voice as they were ushered into the underground hangar.
    There were six of the craft in this particular room, each resting on small, fragile-seeming landing gear.
    “This is the first time you’ve seen one, eh, Miss Hamblin?” asked Danker.
    The girl didn’t answer.
    “Though from what your uncle tells me, you were allowed to see his various working models.”
    Cole surveyed the row of disk-shaped craft. “How many miles to the gallon do you get?”
    “Very droll, Mr. Wilson.” Danker consulted his pocket watch. “Soon the three of you will have the rare opportunity of riding in these airships.”
    Cole whistled a little of “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot.”
    “What,” inquire Nellie, “is the exact purpose of these things?”
    “That need not concern you, Miss Gray.”
    “Maybe they want to scare the natives,” suggested Cole, “so they can lower the real estate values hereabouts.”
    “There must be something,” said Jennifer, “something around here they want to spy on. That’s what the ships are intended for.”
    “A defense plant or a government project, mayhap?” said Cole.
    “Yes, I imagine it’s something like that.”
    Cole frowned. “I have the impression the Army Air Corps boys wouldn’t stand still for anything like that.”
    “These ships are designed to avoid any method of aircraft detection now in use in your country,” said Danker. “Should they actually encounter one of your stodgy conventional planes, they can easily outfly it.”
    “No propellers,” said Nellie.
    “They work on a different principle,” said Jennifer, “more like a rocket.”
    “As much as I would like to prolong this pleasant discussion,” said Danker, “I must now begin getting you aboard your respective ships.”
    “You’re breaking up the set?” asked Cole.
    “Only one of you can fit in each cabin along with the pilot.” He smiled at Cole. “You’ll be happy to learn that you’re traveling with Dirks.”
    “Yes, it’s nice to meet an old friend on a trip.”
    “You’ll also be securely bound,” added Danker.

    “But not that securely,” Cole thought to himself.
    The disk-craft was humming through the night, heading out over the desert.
    Dirks sat hunched at the controls, muttering to himself now and again.
    “If you’d like to stop somewhere for a bite to eat, it’s all right with me, old man,” Cole said aloud. He was sitting