As the dawn began to break in the East, the occasional passing lights of flying planes became less bright and soon the planes themselves stood out against the sky like shadows.  And then the whole majestic train of aerial invaders became visible as they poured over the southern horizon—–­a never ending stream.

Komoru and Ethel landed in a meadow already well filled with planes and following the others, hurried along toward the town.

There had been some fighting in the streets and a few buildings were burning.  Walking along to the main street of the town, they came upon a crowd of Japanese who were collected in front of a building from which the contents were being dragged hastily.

“What is it?” asked Komoru of one of the men.

“Hardware store,” replied the other; “we’ve rifled all of them for the weapons and explosives.”

“Where are all the people?” asked Ethel.  “The Americans—­are they killed or captured?”

“They are at home in their houses,” answered the man, who seemed well posted.  “I was with the first squad to arrive.  We captured the policemen and then took the telephone switchboard.  Japanese operators are in there now.  They have called up every one in town and explained the situation, and advised the people to stay indoors, telling them that every house would be burned from which people emerged or shots were fired.  The operators are working on the rural numbers yet.  We hold the telegraph also, and are sending out exaggerated reports of the size of the Japanese invasion.”

* * *

A man wearing a blue sash came hurrying up.  He stopped before the group at the hardware store and gestured for silence.

“The town is well in hand,” he said, “and only those of you who are detailed here as guards need remain longer; the others will get back to their planes and await the rise of their designated leaders for the flights of the day.

“Come,” said Komoru to his companion.  But Ethel did not move.  Her mind was racked with perplexity.  Here she was in a city of her own people.  Why should she continue to accompany this young Japanese whom, despite his gentlemanly conduct, she instinctively feared?  Yet what else could she do?  She was dressed in the peculiar attire of the invaders, and would certainly have trouble in convincing an American of her identity.

[Illustration:  As they passed near other planes, Ethel noted that in many cases the women were driving.]

“I must ask you to hurry,” said Komoru, as the others moved off.  With an effort Ethel gathered her wavering emotions in hand and went with him.  If she must go, she reasoned it were well not to arouse Komoru’s suspicion of her loyalty.

A few minutes later they were again in the air, following the lead of a plane with bright red wings—­the flag-ship, as it were, of the group.

In a half hour the expedition was approaching Houston.  Coming over the city, the leader circled high and waited until his followers were better massed.