In the far left-hand corner was marked the city of Galveston, and to the right was the Sabine River that forms the boundary between Texas and Louisiana.  Ethel raised her eyes from the map and looked far out to the Northwest.  Sure enough, she discerned the lights of a city at the point where Galveston was indicated by the chart.

“How far have we come?” she asked in astonishment.

“Eight hundred miles,” replied Komoru.  “See, it is nearly two-thirty.  The first men with the faster planes were to have arrived at one o’clock.”

A little later they passed over the dimly discernible coast line, some thirty or forty miles to the east of Galveston.  Komoru carefully consulted his compass, watch and aneroid, and made a slight change in his course.

“Where do we land?” asked the girl.

Komoru steadied the wheel with one hand; and, reaching into the breast pocket of his aviator’s jacket, he produced a little document-like roll.  “These are the orders,” he explained, and asked Ethel to spread out the papers on the chart case.

The instruction sheet read: 

“Fly twenty-eight minutes beyond the coast line, which will place you ten or twenty miles northwest of the town of Beaumont, where a fire of some sort will be lighted about 3 a.m.

“When you alight locate one or more farm houses and attach one of the enclosed notices to the door.

“This done, fly toward the Beaumont signal fire and assist in subduing the town and capturing all petroleum works in the region.

“At 6 a.m., if petroleum works are safe, follow the lead of the red plane and fly northwest as far as Fort Worth, returning by nightfall to oil region.”

Ethel read the paper over and over as she held it down out of the wind by the dim glow lamp.  She wanted to ask questions.  She wondered what was expected of her.  She wondered again as to what was expected of the entire invasion and why the women had been brought along.  But her questions did not find verbal expression, for she had schooled herself to await developments.

The roller chart had now come to a stop and showed the red line that marked their course terminating in a cross to the northwest of the town of Beaumont.  Komoru tilted the plane downward and flew for a time near the earth.  Then checking the speed, he ran it lightly aground in an open field a little distance from a clump of buildings.

The driver got out and stretched his cramped limbs.  Taking a hand glow lamp he ran carefully over the mechanism of the plane.  Then he opened a locker and took out two small magazine pistols.  One he handed to Ethel.

“Don’t use it,” he said, “until you have to.”

“Will you go with me?” he asked, “to tack the poster, or will you stay with the plane?”

“I’ll stay here,” she replied.

Komoru walked off rapidly towards the house.  Presently the stillness was interrupted by the vociferous barking of a dog; Then there was a sound as of some one picking a taut wire and the voice of the dog curdled in a final yelp.