The connection was poor and Tim was forced to call the operator and ask for a better wire. Finally they were able to hear Collins distinctly.

“I’ve checked up on the fingerprints,” said the expert, “and they tally with those of Shanghai Sam and Pierre Petard, two members of the old Sky Hawk gang!”

Tim’s hand trembled as he heard the words. Shanghai Sam and Pierre Petard were considered the two most dangerous members of the gang next to the Sky Hawk himself. The Hawk was gone but Sam and Pierre were carrying on for him.

Collins talked steadily for several minutes.

“Remember how you chased the Sky Hawk when he had the death ray?” he asked.

Tim replied in the affirmative.

“From all the dope I can get,” said Collins, “Sam and Pierre were with the Hawk that night, one of them in the plane itself and the other waiting to help with the getaway on the ground. Of course they’ll have no scruples if you cross their path. In fact, they would probably go out of their way to meet you. Pleasant prospect, isn’t it?”

“Not so pleasant,” replied Tim, “for those chaps will stop at nothing.”

The reputation of Shanghai Sam and Pierre Petard was known to every police official in the central west. Petard had served in the Allied aviation forces during the war but he had later been revealed as a German spy and had thrown his lot with that of the Sky Hawk, former German war ace. Shanghai Sam came from the opposite end of the world, a white man who had been king of the crooks in the far east. When the middle west had offered a richer field he had not hesitated to transfer his activities and had joined the Sky Hawk and his band.

“Have you found any trace of either of them, except the fingerprints, near the scene of the attempted robbery?” asked Tim.

“I looked over the reports a few minutes ago,” replied Collins, “and they must have vanished into thin air.”

“I’m not so sure but what that’s exactly what they did,” said Tim as he thought of the queer marks he had found near the railroad right-of-way.

Collins warned them to be extremely careful of their movements for the next few days and then hung up.

“Well, what do you think of that?” asked Ralph.

“Just about what I expected,” said Tim, “I was convinced that men trained under the Sky Hawk were behind the attempt. They are the only ones with the brains and the daring to have thought of such a way to stop the mail. The only thing that averted a million dollar robbery last night was the quick hand of engineer Henshaw and his decision to run through the fire.”

“The railroad ought to retire him on a double pension,” said Ralph.

“Don’t think he’d want to retire,” said Tim. “He’s the kind who will stay at the throttle until he is too old to stand the strain of the high speed demanded today.”

Their conversation turned to what might happen in the future and how best to protect themselves against Shanghai Sam and Pierre Petard.

“Our best protection will be to keep on the alert,” said Tim. “We’ll keep our eyes open and our wits about us. In the morning we’ll get some pictures of Sam and Pierre from the state police and become more familiar with their looks. They’ll try another job in a few days and we’ll want to be ready to cope with them in any emergency.”

They left the office together and long after Tim had gone to bed he thought of the strange marks. They were connected in some important way, he felt, with Shanghai Sam and Pierre Petard.

The next day Tim went to the public library where he spent the morning reading all that was available about Pierre Petard, the former war hero. There was nothing in the library about Pierre Petard the criminal. Tim also read voluminously about the development of airplanes and of the many freak planes that had been invented and of a few that had been made to fly. There was a growing conviction in his mind, but he was not yet prepared to divulge it even to Ralph. It was so simple that they might all laugh at him.

When Tim returned to the office, Captain Ned Raymond was talking to Ralph. The captain had pictures of Shanghai Sam and Pierre Petard for the flying reporters to study.

“They’ll try something else soon,” asserted the state police official, “and we’ll rely on you boys to help us in running them down. The railroad has offered a five thousand dollar reward and it will be yours if you bring about their capture.”

“We’ll do the best we can,” promised Tim, “for the five thousand dollars would come in handy.”

“Just two thousand five hundred dollars apiece,” smiled Ralph. “What a lot of ice cream that would buy,” he added.

Captain Raymond cautioned the flying reporters against taking any undue chances and warned them that the state police were without a single clue as to where Sam and Pierre were hiding.

“You’ll never find them in Atkinson,” said Tim.

“Why not?” asked the police official. “It’s the largest city in this part of the state.”

“They’ll never hide in any city,” said Tim. “When you find them it will be in some isolated section of the state, perhaps in the valley of the Cedar.”

“Have you any clues?” demanded Captain Raymond.

“Nary a clue,” replied Tim, “but I’ve a hunch and I believe in playing hunches.”

Captain Raymond was about to leave when one of the telephones on the copy desk rang. They heard the copy-reader who answered shout, “Bank Robbery!”

The words sent a chill of apprehension through Tim and Ralph. Tim had been convinced that the gangsters of the sky would strike again but he had not expected it would be within forty-eight hours after their failure to rob the million dollar train.

“What bank?” he cried.

“Citizens National,” replied the copyreader, who was busy writing a bulletin in longhand as the police reporter dictated the story.

“How much?” demanded Captain Raymond.

“One hundred and ten thousand in cold cash,” said the copyreader.

“Let’s go,” said Tim, and they dashed for Captain Raymond’s car, which was parked in front of the building.

In five minutes they were at the Citizens National Bank building, elbowing their way through the crowd which had gathered.

Their state police badges got them past the cordon of guards and they rushed into the lobby.

The robbery had been well planned and executed. The two bandits had entered the bank just before closing time and secreted themselves in a washroom. Just as the cashier was about to place the currency in the vault, they emerged and covered the employees with a sub-machine gun. One of them took the money, stuffing it in a brown leather portfolio. Then they slipped out a side entrance and into a waiting car. Twenty more seconds and they were lost in the heavy traffic.

A clerk had gathered his wits enough to obtain the license and a brief description of the car. It had been a black coupe, low and powerful, with license No. 52-621.

State police were scouring the highways but so far there had been no report of the car. Then came the news that the coupe had been stolen only a few hours before in a village fifty miles away and toward the Cedar river.

When that news reached the bank, Tim determined to take up the chase in the Good News and fifteen minutes after leaving the bank the plane was soaring into the sky.