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EAGLE 



EAGLE - THE NEW jd NATIONAL STRIP CARTOON WEEKLY 



THREEPENCE 



EVERY FRIDAY 



N DARE 

PILOT OF THE FUTURE 



26 MAY 1950 No. 7 




VERY WELL, MISS PEABODY YOU > 

WILL PILOT THE SHIP. BUT ONCE 
WE REACH- VENUS YOU WILL PLEASE 
CONSIDER YOURSELF UNDER ARREST , 
FOR INSUBORDINATION A 



VENUS, SIR RUBE RT 



f WE SHOULD 
BE NEAR THE 
DANGER AREA 
NOW, DIG 








WILL YOU HAVE THE FIRST SHOT AT 
GETTING THROUGH? I CAN'T ALLOW 
PROFESSOR PEABODY TO TALE THAT 
RISK 



i I 





ALL SET DIG? WERE WE GO THEM, 
CROSS ALL YOUR LINGERS AND 
WAKIG ON TO YOUR WAT 



YOU MUST HAVE BEEN RIGHT 
ABOUTTWE RAYS ONLY ATTACKING 
IMPULSE MOTORS, SIR — USING 
ROCKETS MUST BE THE ANSWER 





THE RADIO RECEIVER'S 
BLOWN UP SIR 



OF COURSE/- WHAT IDIOTS WE 
ALL ARE ! THE RADIO'S WORKED 
BY IMPULSE WAVES 



I DON'T 

THINK THEY'LL 
HOLD FOR MUCH 
LONGER - AND 
ONCE THEY GIVE 
WAY. . . , 



IT CAUGHT FIRE ,SIR, BUT 
| I GOT THAT OUT WITH 
. AN EXTINGUISHER — 
/TROUBLE IS THE /# 
'PLATES ARE BADLYf^T ^ 
STRAINED ON THE 
'^STARBOARD _Kg » 
nfr-fw SID E 



I KNOW, DIG - ONCE 
THE INSIDE SKIN GOES 
WE'LL JUST BE TWO 
MORE BITS OF SPACE 

DUST WELL, IT WAS 

A NICE TRY. 





PITY WE CAN'T RADIO 



GALE OUT — IF THE 
KITE'LL HOLD 
TOGETHER WHILE 
WE SLOW DOWN 



THE OTHERS, AND TELL 
THEM — THEY'D 
GET THROUGH THE 
V RAYFIELD EASILY 
IF THEY KNEW 



LOOK S/ff/ 

THE ATMOSPHERE 
LIGHTS ON! 
-WE'VE WIT THE AIR 
ROUND VENUS ! 



y/ve AcUte&tufce* 



of 



P.C.49 



FROM THE FAMOUS RADIO 
series by ALAN STRANKS 












plot ACA/Nsr me world 



sealed himself more comfortably, and began 
lapping and scraping for all lie was worth. 
It was about twenty minutes before his rapid 
signals came to an end. 

He waited for some acknowledgement, but 
none came. He tapped out an enquiry, but 
got no reply. There was no way of telling how 
much of his message had been received on the 
other side of his prison wall. 

Had he been able to see through that wall 
he would have recognised the lower half of 
the man who lay upon the bed in the other 
room of the octagonal tower: and he would 
have recognised not only the sponge-bag 
trousers, but also the thin lips and the nose 
like the beak of a bird of prey, which belonged 
to the man who sat by the bed with a note- 
book and pencil. The two gangsters who had 
captured him in the cellar, and presumably 
moved the stolen uranium before bringing 
him here, had tried a more subtle method than 
torture for worming out of him the secrets of 
"The Peacemakers". 

The man in the leather gaiters, who had 
been afraid lest Ray should recognise his 
voice, swung himself olf the bed, and stretched 
with a noisy yawn. 

"I shall fall asleep if I stay there any 
longer!” he remarked. "Well, your little 
dodge worked. Did you get it all down?” 

“Every word,” replied Sponge-Bag trium- 
phantly, his cruel lips twisted in a mirthless 
caricature of a smile. "We've found out more 
about the Conspirators in the last half hour 
than we’ve ever known before. But we still 
don’t know where the place is, curse it. If we 
could only find that out — ” 

"Perhaps my methods will succeed in carry- 
ing on where yours left off,” suggested 
Gaiters hopefully. “No harm in letting me 
have a go at him, anyway. I'm sure I could 
have broken down lliffc, if only you — " 

"You’re a fool!” snapped Sponge-Bag. 
“You have your uses, but thinking isn't one 
of them. These men are fanatics, and torture 
is useless. We might let you amuse yourself, 
you big ape, if it didn't make any difference 
one way or Ihe other, but if you mess up any 
of our plans, you'll be sorry!" 

”1 was only trying 

"Well, don't!" cut in Sponge-Bag con- 
temptuously. “Just carry out your orders, and 
leave the planning to those with brains, fetch 

Gaiters went out obediently. His fear of the 
other man was proved by the fact that he 
didn't allow his face to betray the slightest 
sign of resentment until he was on the other side 
of the door. Even then he made no rebellious 
gesture; but merely gritted his teeth and 
narrowed his piggish little eyes still further. 

He ran quietly down the spiral stone stair- 
case and entered the room below the one he 
had just left. The nurse was combing her hair 
in front of a mirror, apd surveyed him with 
cold distaste as she turned to face him. 

“The boss wants you," he mumbled. 

“Right. Now get out." 

She proceeded leisurely with her coiffure, 
tlien picked up her cap and began to adjust it. 
Gaiters stood and watched her until she came 
towards him. 

“Ybu still here?” she enquired, pushing 
past him indifferently. 

"He's in no mood to be kept waiting," ex- 
plained Gaiters. 

She shrugged her shoulders, and preceded 
him up the staircase. Sponge-Bag was tapping 
his foot impatiently as they came into the 
room. Gaiters made as if to leave, but his boss* 
motioned him to remain. He shut the door 
and stood by it. 

Sponge-Bag studied Anna calculatingly. 
without speaking. The girl met his gaze un- 
flinchingly, betraying none of the uneasiness 
she fell. She could deal with the unwelcome 
attentions of the lout by the door, but there 
was something inhuman about the cold 
eyes fixed on her like those of a newt. 

“You are beautiful, Anna." stated Sponge- 
Bag. "Does our guest” (he jerked his head in 
the direction of the partition wall) "remain 
unmoved, or do you think you could win his 

er - good-will?" 

“I don't know,” replied the girl sullenly. 
"He has no reason to trust me.” 

"Nor would we have, if you didn’t know 
your father was in our hands," answered 
Sponge-Bag smoothly. “You had better put 



by Chad Varab 



The story so far 



She was standing watching him, a magazine 
in her hand. She was dressed as a nurse, and 
was very, very beautiful. As he looked a* her, 
she put down the magazine on a chair from 
which she had evidently just risen, and came 
over to him. She settled him more com- 
fortably, working with the practised deftness 
of a trained nurse. 

"What's your name?" asked Ray. 

"You can call me ‘Anna’," she replied. 
She spoke softly, for which he was grateful: 
and he wondered whether there wasn't a trace 
of some foreign accent in her speech. 

"Where am 1 7” he asked. 

“Don't worry now. Drink this." she com- 
manded. Yes, slie wax foreign. Ray was 
parched, and drank obediently. It didn't 
occur to him until it was too late that the 
drink might be drugged. It tasted like pure 
water, but he had such a horrid taste in his 
mouth anyway that he couldn’t be sure. 

“I must know where I am," he repeated. 

Anna shrugged her shoulders. 

“You arc being cared for,” she said, “and 
you must stay here until you are better. Now 
try to sleep a little." 

She gave him a brief professional smile, and 
went out of the room. He heard the key turn 
in tlie lock after she closed the door. He 
glanced towards the window: it was heavily 
barred. He was a prisoner. 

He would try to escape when he felt a bit 
better. At the moment he hadn't the energy 

At least he could study the details of his 
prison for future reference. 

It was as barely furnished as any cell. The 
shape of it puzzled him, until he realised that 
it was half an octagon with a bit cut off. He 



There was something inhuman about the cold eyes fixed on her 



must be in one of two rooms in an eight-sided 
tower or turret reached by a staircase. 

Was there anyone in the other room? Ted 
perhaps? 

He tapped on the wall, and was rewarded 
by an immediate response. 

There was a small metal ashtray on the 
table by his bed, and after an effort he 
managed to reach it. As tlie partition wall 
was on his right, it wasn’t too difficult to 
bring his good arm across and use the ash- 
tray for tapping and scraping. “Tap” for 
“dot", "scrape” for “dash” - he could signal 
to Ted in Morse code. 

“Tap-scrape-tap tap scrape-scrape scrapc- 
scrape-scrape tap-scrape-tap tap-tap-tap tap,” 
he signalled. 

The answer came back at once. 

"Scrape tap- tap-tap- tap tap-tap lap-tap-iap 
tap-tap tap-tap-tap. Scrape tap scrape-tap- 
tap." "This is Ted"! The message continued. 
"Who are you?" 

"Number 49," replied Ray. "What hap- 
pened to you after the lad found you in that 
cellar, and where are we now?” 

The tap-scrape from the other side of the 
wall answered with feverish speed. 

“Never mind about that now - we may not 
have much time. Has the nurse given you any- 
thing to drink?" 

“Yes. I think it was water. Why, is she — •?’’ 

The taps from the other room interrupted 

"Don't know. She does as she’s told. 
Listen, I heard them tell her to give you some- 
thing. and after she had gone one of them 
whispered something (p the other.” 

There was a pause. Ray waited, but when 
nothing further came, lie tapped ; 

"What was it 7’ 

Again there was a pause, and then came the 
answer, hesitantly: 

"I only heard the words 'dead in an hour'." 

“You think they meant me?" signalled Ray 
grimly. 

“Yes. I am still of value to them, I sup- 

Ray made no reply. He was thinking. The 
lapping from the other room began again, 
swiftly and urgently. 

"Where shall I go if I can get away?” it 

"Back to the arsily to report.” 

"What is my best route to the Varsity?” 

"Route 'C’, this time," answered Ray. 

“ Have you found out anything? If so, 
better pass it on to me in case I get through, 
and you are poisoned." 

Ray didn't answer for a moment. He was 
trying to colled his thoughts. His head didn’t 
ache quite so badly now, but he was still 
dazed, and rather tired from signalling. 
Whilst he paused another message came 
through. 

“You may not have much time. Hurry. I 
am listening." 

Ray was looking worried, as well he might. 
A frown appeared on his face as lie pondered. 
Then, with an expression of resolution, he 



Chapter 7 
The Traitors’ I Mir 



W H E N he opened his eyes again. 

Ray found himself in bed in a 
room of most peculiar shape. It 
took him some time to remember 
what had happened to him. His head ached 
violently, and there was a throbbing pa in in his 
right arm. He felt for it with his left hand, and 
was astonished when his fingers encountered 
bandages and the hard outline of a splint. 

He tried to lift his head, but he couldn't. 
Someone had strapped it down to tlie pillow. 
He felt his forehead, quite expecting 10 find a 
leather band across it, but there was nothing 
there. No they'd put a lead weight on the 
back of his head that mast be it. He felt for 
it, and winced as his hand encountered a 
tender swelling. He turned his head, and a 
firework display immediately burst in front of 
his eyes. He waited for it to finish, but didn't 
dare to turn his head back. That thug mast 
have hit him hard! A wonder he hadn't 
cracked his skull ! 

He closed his eyes. He could still see “fire- 
works", but they were dying down, and the 
pain was settling down into a numb ache. 

As ihe last rocket disappeared, he opened 
his eyes cautiously. Then he saw her. 



on a good ac(, hadn't you. my little Anna?" 

His bared teeth gave the impression more 
of animal menace than of a human smile. 

"I shall do what you tell me, of course," 
she said, without emotion. “I have no choice.” 

"Exactly. Now we have managed to find 
out a good deal about the Conspirators, but 
we could not ask too obviously about the 
location of theirheadquarterswithoutarousing 
the young man's suspicions. He seemed to 
assume that his 'friend' knew all about the 
‘Varsity’, and about the route he called "C 
for reaching it. You're sure he said ‘Varsity’?” 
This question was shot at Gaiters, who 
started to attention. "In his message, as you 
read it to me, the ‘V’ was missing." 

“He must've missed it by accident," 
grumbled Gaiters. “There isn't no such word 

“Well, that's one of the things Anna must 
find out," said Sponge-Bag. “To make him 
trust you, Anna, you must be kind to him, 
and he must see one of us being unkind to 
you.” Gaiters' eyes flickered, and he licked 
his lips nervously. “If you tell him part of the 
truth about your father, and add a few ‘sweet 
nothings', that should do the trick. Begin by 
‘sneaking' him some food.” 

The girl turned to the door. 

“You think you can manage to wheedle 
out of him the location of their H.Q-?” asked 
Sponge-Bag silkily. 

“I'll do my best." 

“You'd better!" he snarled. She backed 
away from his sudden rage, and Gaitersdoscd 
the door after her. 



tN was finishing his second breakfast that 
day, whilst the Vicar was upstairs shaving 
and dressing, when the door-bell clanged. 
Forgetting that he wasn't in his own house. 
Ken rushed to the door, just beating his host 
to it. When he saw the slight, bespectacled 
figure on the door-step, he knew a momentary 
disappointment, quickly changed to surprise 
when the Vicar hailed the new arrival as 
".Geoff". This chap wasn't Ken’s idea of a 
Secret Service man! Why, the burly parson 
looked the part better, except for his collar! 

“You don’t look a bit like my idea of a 
Secret Agent!" blurted Ken. Then he wished 



he hadn't said it, for it didn't sound exactly 
complimentary. He was quickly reassured. 

“Splendid!" exclaimed the man called 
Geoff. "That's the last thing we want to 
look like. Now, tell me everything you know 
about this business.” 

He made himself comfortable in one of the 
shabby chairs. His host offered him a cigar- 
ette, but he shook his head and took out a 
silver snuff-box. He helped himself delicately 
to snufT, and once again Ken wondered at the 
dandified air of this hunter of desperate spies. 
Then, meeting the frosty blue eyes that never 
left his face and seemed to bore right into him, 
he remembered the “Scarlet Pimpernel”, and 
was glad he was on the same side as Geoff 
Or was he? He was on Ray’s side, no matter 
what might happen, and hoped that was the 
same thing. 

Ken related everything he knew, with 
occasional interpolations from the Vicar and 
shrewd questions from Geoff. He hadn’t 
meant to say anything about Ray. but found 
himself pouring out the whole story as if he 
were hypnotized. When he had finished, Geoff 
cocked an enquiring eyebrow at his host, and 
reached for the 'phone. 

He made several calls, both trunk and local, 
speaking rapidly in the tones of one accus- 
tomed to be obeyed without question. When 
be had finished, he said, “Now we’ll go and 
have a look at that cellar." 

They soon reached the bombed house from 
whose cellar the gangsters had operated, and 
Ken watched with awe as Geoff's slender 
fingers found the secret of the two pivoted 
flags and revealed the hidey-hole empty. 

For a long time the Secret Service man 
studied the hole by the light of the torch the 
Vicar held, but remembering what had hap- 
pened to Ray, he didn't put his hand in. At 
last he drew back, and studied once again the 
messages left by Ray and the missing scientist. 

“Seems genuine," he muttered. “A box as 
heavy as lead was concealed in that hole, and 
Ray was probably right in supposing that it 
was uranium. And Edward lliffe's message 
certainly means 'Gog is one of them'. He may 
be wrong, of course." 

“I don't think so,” put in "Burglar Bill” 
quietly. “I know something of Ray’s ideas, 
and whilst I mustn't say too much. I'm at 



liberty to tell you that I shouldn’t be a bit 
surprised if his friend lliffe came here to 
interest Gog in their organisation, and found 
that the Gog was already involved with a less 
respectable one of his own.” • 

"So you are a sympathizer of the Con- 
spirators, are you?" enquired Geoff. 

“Is that what you call them? I believe they 
call themselves “The Peacemakers'. I don’t 
know much about them, but I do know Ray. 
I would trust him absolutely. So you can put 




He ran quietly ilown the spiral staircase 



me down as a sympathizer if you like." 

The Reverend Bill's jaw was thrust out 
and Geoff retreated in mock alarm. 

“At least we can work together in catching 
Gog." he said. “I probably know more than 
you about the Con — about the Peacemakers, 
and we've no proof that they are disloyal at 
the moment. It's not illegal to persuade 
people, even atomic scientists, to leave the 
country voluntarily, but I'd like to know what 
they're up to wherever they take them.” 

The man from M l. 5 led the way back into 



the street, where Ken was surprised to find 
Dr. Briggs's grey Jaguar, with Dick at the 
wheel, and Jim sitting beside him. Ken ran 
across to them. 

“How's Pru?” asked Jim anxiously. 

“Oh, she's all right," returned Ken, with 
brotherly casualness. “How is it you aren’t in 
a deep, dark dungeon?" 

Dick answered for him. 

“It’s out o' the hands of police, now. 
They’ve nowt more to do wi’ it. Secret 
Service ’as took over. Yon feller’s in charge.” 

He indicated Geoff with his thumb. 

Before Ken could reply, the Vicar and his 
friend came up and the Secret Agent was 
introduced to Dick and Jim. 

“Jolly decent of you to let us be in at the 
death!” enthused Jim. 

“Whose death, I wonder?" murmured 
Geoff— but they were all getting into the car. 
and only Dick heard him. 

“Are ye satisfied to work wi’ a team of 
amachoors?” asked the Northerner. "Ah 
notice police ’as all 'opped it. ’Ave ye no pals 
on the job?” 

“I’m satisfied," smiled Geoff, ignoring the 
second question. "I should think you’d be a 
good man in a scrap, and I know ‘Burglar 
Bill’ is. These lads must confine themselves to 
scouting for us. You’re under my orders, 

“Yessir!” chorussed Jim and Ken, trying 
to look alert and dependable. 

“Where d’ye want to go?” asked Dick, 
letting in the clutch. 

“You solved it first. Bill - tell him!” said 
the man from M.I.5. 

“The desirable modern residence - 3 reccp., 
6 bed., h. and c., mod. con., and all the usual 
offices, standing, 1 assure you, in its own 
grounds,” said the big man, “of that eminent 
scientist and traitor. Professor Gog!” 

Dick put his foot down, and the Jaguar 
swooped forward. 

“Ah bet we’ll find bird’s flown," he said 
gloomily. 



(To be continued next week) 




THE MARY CELESTE 

Captain Morehouse of the barque Dei Gratia, 
130 miles east of Portugal, sighted the two- 
masted 282 ton brig, Mary Celeste in the 
afternoon of 5th December, 1872. Her master. 
Captain Benjamin Briggs, was his friend. The 
Mary Celeste had left New York for Genoa 
four days earlier than the Dei Gratia. As Cap- 
lain Morehouse wanted to wave a greeting 



to Briggs, he ordered the helmsman to steer 
close to the Mary Celeste. When the two 
vessels drew abreast Captain Morehouse 
became alarmed. There was no one at the 
wheel of the Mary Celeste, no one on her 
deck. Captain Morehouse hailed her. There 
was no reply. He lowered a boat and rowed 
across. The brig's sails were set but the 
breeze was light. The ship was empty. Cap- 
tain Briggs, his wife, their small child and the 



crew of seven had all disappeared. Captain 
Briggs' cabin was tidy. The lid of a har- 
monium stood open. In a sewing machine was 
a half-made garment. In the Tc'sle hung the 
crew’s clothes. There were no signs of vio- 
lence. and there was plenty of food and 
water. The last entry in the ship's log was 
dated eleven days earlier. After that the entire 
crew had disappeared. The ship’s one small 
boat was missing. For ten days the ship had 



sailed herself 750 miles on the right course. 
Captain Briggs was a fine seaman ; he had left 
a fourteen-year-old son ashore in their New 
England home. Captain Morehouse took the 
Mary Celeste in charge. An official enquiry 
offered no explanation. Captain Briggs and 
his companions were never heard of again. 
The Mary Celeste was sold and was finally 
wrecked in 1885, having provided one of the 
greatest mysteries of the sea. 



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BLACK JAKE AND 
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GUESS tSLALK 
IS RUBBING 
EVES / 



WHAT MISCHIEF 
HEV THOSE TWO 
HANDS BEEN 
UP TO ? 



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TRIP SHORTY. 
LETS HAVE A LOOK 
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The Kailton 'Mobil' Special - holder of the \' orld 's I .and 
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The power unit is two Napier '‘Lion” engines, the rear 
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The speeds available with the 3 speed gear box are: 150, 
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s k i p p r 




THE KANGAROO 




BY DANET, DUBRISAY, GENESTRE 



AN ANDRE SARRUT 
PRODUCTION 




STRIKE ME 

pink/ A 
BIG GAME 
HUNTER / 



he's OUT 

TO THE I 
WORLD. I 



WHAT 5 HE 
BEEN UP TO? 



SMELLING SALTS I 
DON'T SEEM TO 
HAVE MUCH EFFECT] 




WHAT 
ARE YOU 
GOING 
TO PO 
WITH HIM? 



LETS GIVE HIM 
A DROP OF THE 
CURE-ALL MIXTURE 



JUMPING 
SNAKES / 
WHAT'S THAT 

STUFF 

Dy N AM I T£p 







e SEEN HOW MEN HAVE 
1 TRAVEL IN BALLOONS AND 
REMAINED FOR THE WRI6H1 
O TEACH THE WORLD HOW 
RIVAL THE BIRDS WHEN 
[HEY BUILT THE FIRST 
SUCCESSFUL AEROPLANE; 



SO FAR WE' 
LEARNED T 



IF ONLY Wt 'i 
COULD FLY LIKE’ 
THAT. IT LOOKS , 
. SO EASY/ A 



■4(UW\ Af TCR READING ALL THE AVAILABLE BOOKS ON THE SUBJECT, THEYCAME To THE CONCLUSION 
IJWU THAT BOOKS WERE NO GOOD WITHOUT PRACTICE. ANO So THEY BUILT A GLIDER AND 
LET UP CAMP AT KITTVHAWK. NORTH CAROLINA 1H6Y WERE NATURALLY CAUTIOUS AT FIR5T AND 
ONLY ATTEMPTED FLIGHTS A FEW FEET FROM THE GROUND. THEY WISELY REALISED THAT THE LONGER 
THEY SPENT EXPLORING THE PROBLEMS OF CONTROL, THE SOONER THEY WOULD MASTER THE AIR. 



THE WRIGHT BROTHERS WERE AMERICANS WILBUR WAS 
BORN IN 1867 ORVILLE IN 1871. THEY MADE BILYCLESIN 
DAYTON, OHIO BEFORE THEY DECIDED TO TAKE UP FLYING 



IV MUST 'DESIGN 
MORE EFFICIENT 
WING SECTION. 



L WE NEED 
>W IS AN 
ENGINE . 
m WILBUR / 



THEIR HIGHEST HOPES WERE JUSTIFIED 
WHEN IN I90Z THEY WERE MAKING 
GLIDES OF 200 YARDS/ NE XT 
WEf K YOU WILL SEE HOW THEY FITTED 
AN EN6INE IN A GLIDER ANP MADE WE 
WORLD'S FIRST SUCCESSFUL AERiDPLANE ' 



THEY WERE NOW ON THEIR OWN. HAVING EXHAUSTFD ALL THE KNOWLEDGE THATfXISTING 
BOOKS COULD TEACH THEM THEY BUILT ANOTHER GLIDER AND STILL A THIRD |N A Ol'EST TO 
SOLVE THE PROBLEM OF CONTROL FITTING THEM WITH RUDDERS ANO WARPING WINGS WHICH 
ACTED THE SAME WAY ASAlLERONS ON PRESENT -DAY AEROPLANES THIS.THEY BKUEVEO. WAS 
THE ANSWER AND THEY EAGERLY AWAITED THE CHANGE IN WEATHER 70 TEST THEIR THEORIES 



WHt N WINTER CAME THEY RE TURN EO 
TP DAYTON, BUILT AWIND TUNNEL 
ANO MADE HUNDREDS OF TESTS AS 
THEY WERE NOT SATISFIEP WITH 
THEIR FlRSTGLIDER WHICH PROVED 



TO BE UNSTABLE IN HI6H WINDS. 



HEROES OF THE CLOUDS 











EAGLE CLUB 

AND EDITOR'S PAGE 



2 6 May 1950 




The Editor's Office 
EAGLE 

43 Shoe Lane, London, EC4 

W E have jus! had lo make a very 
difficult decision to reduce the 
number of pages in eagle to 16 
each week instead of having 20 
pages every other week as we have had so lar. 
We hope this won’t be for long, but the 
demand for eagle has been so great that 
many people have been unable to get a copy. 
The paper we save by making this reduction 
will enable us to supply a great many more 
people. We had to choose between fewei 
pages for more people and more pages for 
fewer people and we feel sure you will agree 
that the fair thing is to choose the first. 

As soon as we can, 
shall increase the number \| 
of pages again. Meanwhile, I 
we are sure you will agree j 
that even with 16 pag 
week eagle is very good j 
value for money. And from f _ 

now on, there should not be so many of you 
disappointed at not Igetting your copy each 

This does not mean, of course, that you 
won't be getting those fortnightly features 
which many of you say you like so much ; for 
example Professor Brittain and Bernard New- 
man’s Spy Stories. We shall still be printing 
tliesc whenever possible. 

We should like to thank all those of you 
who have written to us telling us what 
you like and do not like about eagle and 
making some very valuable suggestions which 
we are going lo follow up. 

We shall hope to write to you all personally 
but you will understand this takes a long time 
as we have had so many letters. So please 
forgive us if you don’t get a reply to your 
letter straight away. 

Here are the names of those living in Scot- 
land who were among the first 100 members 
of eagle Club. They are being taken to see 
the Highland Games at Oban. 

Franco Pisaneschi, Watson St., Motherwell 
John Swann, Carmichael St., Dundee 
Thomas McCrossan. Panmute St., Glasgow 



Daniel Crawford, Coulten 
Ave., Coatbridge 
Helena Newton. Hcssing- 
ton Rd., Bcarsdcn 
Gordon Fraser, East Park 
St., Huntly 
David Mungall, Croft Bank 
Farm, Uddingston 
Robert Nelson, Ducklage Cottage, Crieff 
Agnes Beveridge, Glasgow Rd., Hamilton 
John Whitelaw, Gladstone St., Burnbank 
Estyn Griffiths, Campbell St., Banff 
Alice Burke. Whoterbank, Dundee 
David Roberts, Edinburgh Rd., Harthill 
Nan Sneddon, Bridgeress Rd.. Bo’ness 
David Magowan, Dalton St., By Cambushany 
James Welsh, Bclses Drive, Cardonald 
Alistair Foster, Shearer St,, Glasgow 
Vernon Wiseman, Albert Avenue. Glasgow 
James Cosgrove. Deanhill Rd., Kilmarnock 
Betty Kilpatrick. New St., Riccarton 
Sidney Smith, Gowan's Terrace, Muirton 
Peter Mackay. Station House, Ballinluig 
James Stewart, Amott Drive, Coatbridge 
Hector Adams. Alpine Terrace, Ardrossan 
Ian Taylor, Gladstone Road, Saltcoats 




W e had a great many replies to the Fill-Ins 
competition in Issue No. 2. A team of 
art experts from the various papers published 
by Hulton Press sorted out the entries and 
managed to make a short list from which we 
had to choose the winner. It was not at all 
easy to decide but in the end we came to the 
conclusion that the best drawn and most 
original entry was sent in by Peter Denham, 
46 Downing Road, Dagenham (aged 13). A 
prize of a National Savings Certificate is 
being sent to him. 

Others who came very near to winning were 
Gordon Jones, 31 St. Matthew Street, 
Burnley, Lancs, (aged 12); Leslie Howard, 50 
Wendell Road. Shepherds Bush, London, 
W. 12 (aged 13); and P. J. French, 2 Belvedere 
Villas. Pcnhill Road, Lancing, Sussex (aged 
1 2) and we congratulate tltem on their efforts. 

Yours sincerely, 

THE EDITOR 



COMPETITION CORNER 

* 

There are prizes for all these competitions this week. A 10/6 National 
Savings Certificate Will be sent to the senders of the first correct solu- 
tion of each competition ( except No. 4. which will be judged on merit ) 
opened on May 3 1st. You can send all your entries in one envelope , 
but please put your answer lo each competition on a separate piece 
of paper and put your name and address and Club number on each. 

Atldress to Competition. EAGLE, 4 New Street Square. London, E.C.4. 




as a — . (d) lively as a — , (c) merry as a — , (f) nimble as a — , (g) quiet as a 
(h) timid as a - 



3. TREASURE HUNT The pages of eagle are full of treasures. For this 
week you need not look further than the headlines on various pages. By using certain 
words to be found in the headlines on some of the pages it is possible to make 
another headline. For instance; eagle (page II) presents (page 15) mysteries 
(page 5) of the (page 10) countryside (page 10). 

Now sec what you can make with some of the words to be found in the headlines 
on pages 8,4, 1 , 7, 5. 6, 14, 3. (The pages are not numbered in the right order). The 
prize will go lo the sender of the first correct headline opened. 

4. IN REVERSE There arc certain names, such as Eve, Anona, and Hannah, 
etc., which have the peculiarity of reading the same either forwards or backwards. 
There are also little sentences which spell and read the same backwards, such as that 
gloomy saying of Napoleon's : "Able was I ere I saw Elba !” I recently asked a young 
friend of mine if he could make up some of these sentences, and he derived a lot of 
fun in producing “Eros saw I was sore " and “Ma's not a ton, Sam!” 

So 1 wonder how good you can be at making up similar sentences in reverse (or 
Palindromes as the dictionaries describe them). The best sent in will be printed in 
eagle, and receive the prize. 

5. BIRDS IN COMPANY You probably know that a number of part- 
ridges gathered together are described as a covey, but do you know the descriptions 
for a collection of (a) goldfinches, (b) nightingales, (c) larks, (d) snipe, (e) woodcocks, 
<f) plovers, (g) quails, (h) geese, (i) curlews? 

Here is the answer to last week's Competition 
No. 4 (The Belligerent Goats). The least- 
touched parts ate shown shaded. The centre 
oval, although in both circles, received no more 
cropping titan the rest. 





Lash Lonergan’s Quest 

By MOORE RAYMOND 



The story so far 

dead in (he bush with a piece of opal in his hand; and 
Dago Messilcr claims lo be his heir. The Uncle's will is 
stolen from the bank by a bushranger called The 
Hunchback. Lash follows The Hunchback but is injured 
in a fight with Mcssitcr who waylays him. In spite of his 
injury Lash wins the first event at the Sports next Jay. 
He is also challenged by Messiter lo ride an unridcable 




Chapter 7 



A FTER sundown, darkness came 
swiftly. Bui still Ihe claypan by the 
creek was aglow with tires and lights. 
"What's goin' on over there?" 
asked Squib, pointing to a gathering group on 
the bank of the creek. They were forming a 
ring. Some brought hurricane lamps, burning 
kerosene with a soft, yellow flame. A few had 
carbide lamps that produced a hard, bright, 
glaring light. 

"Why don't you mizzle ofT and have a 
squiz, me lazy lad?” muttered Rawhide. 

"I’m knocked up," yawned the boy, settling 
himself against the bottle tree. 

■'Cocklightin'," someone said. “There’s 
goin' to be cockfightinY' 

.Squib was on his feet in a flash. Lash and 
Rawhide followed at a more leisurely pace. 

The Irishman said quietly to his friend: “I 
don't savee why The Hunchback wrote you 
that letter. Everybody knows you're jisl about 
stony-broke till you git Coolabah Creek 
station out o' the hands o' Dago the dingo.” 
"Maybe he thinks I can get hold of some 
cash somewhere," replied Lash. "Maybe he 
thinks I can borrow enough from friends lo 
outbid Messiter for the will, and then pay 
them back when I get Uncle Peter's estate." 

Rawhide spluttered indignantly and 
squawked: "What does he take you for? 
Does he think you've got the dingbats? Stone 
the crows and stiffen the lizards!" 

"Cool down, cobber. Come and watch the 

But instead of being spectators, they 
immediately became contestants. 

"Come on. Lash," urged the self-appointed 
referee and master of ceremonies, tugging at 
the roughrider's sleeve. “You and Rawhide 
against Jack and Joe Cappy." 

But before the Cappy brothers could take 
up Ihe challenge, another voice cut in: 
"We'll take you on !" 

Lash and Rawhide turned to see Dago and 
Greasy Joe with taunting grins on their faces. 
The crowd murmured, knowing the deadly 
rivalry, sensing the tension between the two 

f ash chuckled. "Dago, why don't you and 
your otfsider go and crawl into a hollow log?" 
The overseer flushed, and the fat man spat. 
"I'm thinkin'," chipped in Rawhide, “it 
might be a good idea to take the hide ofT this 
pair. I hear they're givin’ good prices Tor 
snakeskin.” 

Everybody laughed everybody but Dago 
and Greasy Joe. 

The latter snarled and made as if to attack 
the Irishman, but Dago smilingly restrained 
him and said suavely to Rawhide: “If it's 
stoush you want, you hairy hooligan, then it's 
stoush you'll get." 

Rawhide spat delightedly on his hands. 
"Oh, praise be to the powers of the upper air 
as me Chinese friends say - for givin' me 
sich a bonzer chance o' goin' to bed happy." 

"A hospital bed, probably,” smiled Dago. 
" And your friend." 

"Hey, listen no rough stuff!'' exclaimed 
the man who had organised the cockfighling. 
He knew that the game frequently resulted in 
bumps and bruises, but it looked as if this 
contest might be more lerious. 

"Too right, me boy, too right." said Raw- 





hide in tones that dripped with Irish blarney. 
“It's goin' to be as dainty a little cockfight as 
ever you did see." 

Chuckling, he turned to the grinning rough- 
rider and invited him to mount. 

Lash nimbly climbed the stooping Irish- 
man and sat on top of his shoulders, with one 
leg down either side of the huge chest. While 
Lash tucked each foot into the small of Raw- 
hide's back, the irishman wrapped his huge 
arms about his friend’s shins. 

Meanwhile Dago Messiter mounted Greasy 
Joe’s shoulders. The fat man. despite his 
girth, was surprisingly powerful and nimble. 

"First two falls out of three," said the 
referee. “Go!” 

As the contestants circled warily in the 
light of the lamps, they looked like a pair of 
lumbering giants about to engage. The 
"mount" the man underneath had to 
keep the balance while his rider tried to grasp 
the other rider. Then, with a push or pull, the 
man on top tried to upset his rivals and send 
them tumbling to the ground. 

“Ga-a-ah!” bellowed Greasy Joe. He ran 
straight at Rawhide and crashed straight into 
him before anyone else involved knew what 
was happening. At the same lime the fat man 
brought up his heavy knee and thrust it into 
Rawhide's stomach. 

“Ugh!” grunted the injured Irishman. He 
staggered and fell, bringing down Lash into 
the dust. & 

"Foul!" yelled Rawhide, scrambling to his 
feet. “Dirty foul!" 

The foul had been so well disguised that 
only Rawhide was sure it had happened. 

"One fall to Dago and company." called 
the referee. The cheers were feeble. 

As Lash scrambled on his back. Rawhide 
glared at Greasy Joe and muttered. 

Once more the giants circled each other. 

This lime Rawhide advanced on Greasy 
Joe. Above him. Lash reached out and 
grabbed at Dago's outstretched arms. 

At the same time, Rawhide lurched against 
Greasy Joe and, with unexpected speed. 



stretched his neck and sank his teeth into the 
fat man s ear. 

"Ow!” roared Greasy Joe, stumbling back- 
wards and overbalancing. He crashed on his 
behind, with Dago on lop of him. 

"He's bit me ear orf!” howled Greasy Joe, 
reaching for the injury. 

"He shoved his ear right in me mouth." 
declared Rawhide to the delighted spectators. 
“I opened me gob to take a breath of air. and 
he sticks his flappin', floppin' ear into it." 

Amid laughter from Ihe crowd, the referee 
declared a fall in favour of Lash and Rawhide. 



T hey remounted and circled for the final 
and decisive fall. The two “mounts” 
moved closer. The furious Dago swung a 
closed fist an uppercut that grazed lash's 

"Hey!” yelled the referee. “No punching" 
Dago knew as well as anybody that fist- 
lighting was barred in cockfighting. Lash 
decided to give him no chance at another 
foul. 

The roughrider reached for Dago's throat, 
and the other man's hands came up in a pro- 
tective gesture. 

Lash swiftly caught Dago's right hand in a 
thumb-lock and swayed to the left. 

Dago tried to resist. His face went white 
with pain as he clutched at his opponent. 
"Better give in." murmured Lash grimly. 
“No, no," croaked the victim. 

I .ash applied severe pressure. With a grunt 
of mingled pain and dismay. Dago Hopped 
over on one side. Thrown ofT his balance. 
Greasy Joe staggered and fell into the dust. 

While the crowd cheered Lash's victory. 
Dago thrust his way through the spectators, 
shaking his hurt hand as he went. 

Back at the bottle tree Squib gasped, ad- 
miringly: “Gee, Lash, you slung 'em down 
with a couple o' fingers!" 

"A judo thumb-lock I learnt in my travels," 
smiled Lash. ‘Til teach it to you some time." 
Rawhide picked up his battered banjo and 



"Up the rood!" panted the man breathlessly 



strummed on the strings as he sang one of his 
spur-o'-the-moment songs. 

“Now lash and Rawhide had a go 
At Dago Messiter and Greasy Joe. 
Thanks to Rawhide, thanks to Lash, 

Joe and Dago came a crash! 

Bash, bash, bash! 

Smash, smash, smash! 

Joe and Dago came a crash!" 

Someone touched Lash's arm. He turned to 
see a big, well-dressed man in city clothes. A 
townie, thought the roughrider. A com- 
mercial traveller, or some other kind of 
business man from town. 

“My name’s Arkell," said the man, holding 
out his hand. “William Arkell, from Curly- 
horn. But you can call me Bill." 

Lash grinned and shook hands with the 
wealthy owner of Curly horn cattle station, a 
vast and rich holding on the other side of the 

"Can I talk lo you privately. Lash?" 

“O.K.. Bill,” said the roughrider, im- 
mediately at ease with the newcomer. 

“Come over to the hotel." 

As they edged through the crowd, Arkell 
said: “I knew your Uncle Peter. Not very 
well, but well enough to know he was dink- 
um. And of course I know quite a bit about 
the famous Lash Lonergan as well." 

Lash received the compliment with a smile. 

"My wife and I are on our way to Sydney 
for a holiday," said Arkell when they had 
settled down in the deep squatter's chairs. 
“That’s why I’m all dressed up like this. It’s 
our first holiday for seven years, and we'll be 
away for several months. That's why I want 
to talk to you." 

“No savee," smiled Lash. 

"I want you to be overseer of Curlyhorn 
while I'm away." 

“Eh?" came the startled exclamation. 

"I've got a good manager who looks after 
all the routine stuff at the homestead. But 
I've always acted as overseer of the stockmen 
myself. I'd like to go on my holidays knowing 
I've left my men and my stock in the hands of 
a man like you. I’ve been worrying about it 
ever since 1 left Curlyhom, and as soon as I 
saw you here I knew you were the very 

"But 

“I know what you're going to say." in- 
terrupted Arkell. "You've got to gel Coola- 
bah Creek away from Dago Messiter and his 
mob. You’ve got to hunt down The Hunch- 
back and get the will. I know all about that. 
But you can't do it single-handed or even 
three-handed, to include your two cobbers." 

"We'll try," replied Lash firmly. 

“You need help a lot of hetp - more help 
than a couple of friends and a couple of 
mounted police can give. So I'll make a bar- 
gain with you. If you be my overseer for three 
months, when I get back I'll use all my power 
lo see you get your rights. I'll use my money 
my men everything to get Lash Lonergan 
back to Coolabah Creek." 

Lash was silent for a while. 

"I'm sorry. Bill,” he said at last. “It's no 
go.*' 

"But. Lash 

“I can't wait three months. I can't even 
wait a month, or even a week. I've got 
enemies, and I've got to go after 'em full tilt." 

Arkell sighed his disappointment. 

Lash went on: "You've made me a bonzer 
offer, Bill. I only wish I could shake your 
dook and say yes. But well, what's the use 
of arguing. I've made up my mind about this, 
and no amount of talk will make me change." 

“Oh, well," laughed Arkell, "if you're still 
up the same gum tree when I get back. I’ll 
help you all I can." 

“If I need you," grinned Lash, "you’ll hear 
my coo-ee from here to Curlyhorn!” 

The sound of music drifted down from the 
hall where people were gathering to sing and 
dance. 

Lash said goodnight to Arkell and strolled 
up the road to the hall. Already the dance was 
in progress, and he found the little wooden 
building packed with people. 

Spotting Squib. Lash beckoned him over. 



They both went up to the platform where 
Rawhide was silting. 

“Listen, cobbers,” he said to his mates, 
“tonight we'll doss on the bank of the crcck. 
I’ll go out now and see the horses are settling 
down for the night. 

He was interrupted by an uproar outside 
the hall. To the sound of confused shouting, 
followed by several ride shots, the crowd in 
the hall made for the door. 

“The Hunchback!" came the cry. “The 
Hunchback !” 

“I saw his ugly mug!” 

Lash caught the last speaker by the shoul- 
der. “Which way did he go?" 

“Up the road!” panted the man breath- 
lessly. pointing into the darkness. “He just 
came ridin’ past with a grin on his face. Some- 
body took a couple o' potshots at him, but I 
reckon he's gone." 

“Was anybody else with him?" 

"Not a one." 

Lash started to run, but a restraining hand 
caught his arm and held him back. 

“Don’t waste your time and strength," said 
Sergeant Cleaver, the Oonawidgec mounted 
policeman. Behind him stood Sergeant Sneed. 



A fine couple of coppers you are !" snapped 
Lash. A moment later he regretted the 
unjustified sarcasm. 

He shrugged and smiled. “I'm sorry, 
mates. Of course you're right. That bush- 
ranger is somewhere out there - in the dark." 

“We were down at the bank waiting for 
him,” said Sergeant Cleaver, “in case lie kept 
his promise to tum up." 

“Not a sign of him," said Sergeant Sneed. 
“And then we heard shouts and we saw him 
galloping up the road." 

"Did you do the shooting?” asked Lash. 
"Yes, but we couldn't hit him.” 

“What!” exclaimed the roughrider. "Do 
you mean to tell me a couple of crack shots 
like you couldn't hit The Hunchback?” 
Sergeant Cleaver made a gesture of despair. 
"We couldn't fire al the man because there 
were so many people about," he explained 
impatiently. "We fired over his head. We 
thought it might stop him, but it didn't.” 



"So he didn’t rob the bank?" said Lash. 
"Then why did he come?" 

As if in reply to his question, the answer 
came from the owner of Curlyhom cattle 
station as he jostled his way through the 
crowd to (he two policemen. 

"My wife's jewels!" stormed Arkell. 
"They've gone! The Hunchback's got them! 
All the bonder jewelry I bought her! A couple 
of thousands pounds' worth! look at this!" 
He held out a piece of paper. 

Somebody held up a hurricane lamp. Lash 
leaned over and read the note. 

“Better late than never," said the crude 
lettering. “Yours truly. The Hunchback." 

Lash took Sergeant Sneed on one side. 

“About those notes the bushranger sent to 
me and Dago," said Lash to the policeman. 
"What say you go and ask Dago what’s he’s 
going to do about his invitation 7' 

“You don’t think he'll tell me. do you?” 

“Maybe not,” agreed Lash. “But Tve got 
an idea for a trap for The Hunchback. You 
remember his note - he wants a bid for the 
will to be put in a tin and dumped in the road 
through Opaltown by Sunday sundown.” 

"That's right." 

“I'll write a bid and put it in a tin, and I'll 
put it just where The Hunchback expects to 
find it. Then you and I, together with a few 
selected coves, will wait in ambush. But 
before I do (hat I'd like to get some idea of 
what Dago Mcssiter is doing.” 

"All right," sighed the policeman. He went 
to look for Mcssiter. 

They were discussing future plans when the 
sergeant returned. 

"Dago's gone," he said. “Greasy Joe says 
he's gone hunting The Hunchback." 

A smile spread over Lash’s bronzed face - 
a knowing smile that made tlie others stare. 

“Sergeant," he chuckled, “Tve changed my 
mind again about Dago and The Hunchback. 
See you in the morning - all of you." 

"But — ” began Sneed. 

But Lash had disappeared into the dark- 
ness. Fifteen minutes later he rode Monarch 
at a steady canter along the road to Coolabah 
Creek. 

To be continued 



Cadbupys Comer oh* 





9 want (a<96uri/sf 



DOES IT 
EVER 
RAIN 



HOW HIGH IS 
MOUNT EVEREST? 

29,141 feet, approximately. It one 
week's production of Cadbury's 
Milk Tray chocolates were put one 
on top of the other they would 
reach 23 times as high as Mount 
Everest! 



HAVE YOU A 
COCOA TREE 
IN YOUR 
LARDER? 



HOW LONG 
DOES IT TAKE 



TO SEE A 



St<vi ? 




What's the important 
message f . . . 

Wilhinsom 

LIQUORICE 
ALLSORTS 

have arrived 
at the tuck shop 




PROTECT YOUR 
FAITHFUL FRIENDS 



For only 2/6 each 




NATIONAL REGISTRATION OK ANIMALS 
SERVICE 







Vniuntary Helpers urgently needed 




ITS A BEAUTY! 

JHIS is the bike that realty stands out from 
the rest ! It’s got a silver head and silver 
bands, and a beautiful blue finish. Suppose you 
had one of your own — imagine how you’d 
flash along in front of all your friends! This is 
the smart, speedy bike you've always wanted! I 

IT'S AllhA 
GOLDEN WINGS ! 

COUPON: TO B.S.A. CYCLES LTD., 



I'd be a 
perfect pig... 

if I didn't tell you that for real 
he-man fun there's no sport in the 
world to compare with building and 
flying your own model aeroplanes. 
And the best magazine in the world 
devoted to that sport is 

MODEL AIRCRAFT 

price 16 d monthly 

Ask your newsagent to show you a copy 
to-day, or fill in the coupon and post it 
to us with one and sixpence. 






ROB CONWAY (N SEARCH OF A SEC RET CITY 




YES,' PITY WE LET 
THE OTHER ONE GET 
AWAY THOUGH 



AFTER THEIR MAP. 











fet i i 


m 




it 





CHEERIO / AND TH ANILS 
FOR. THE HELP. WE'LL 
SEND ALONG A 
BREAKDOWN TRUCK jf 



NOW MY LAD , SPILL 
IT j WHAT'S YOUR 
LITTLE GAME EH? 



WHY ARE YOU SO ANXIOUS 
TO GET HOLD OF OUR MAP 
AND STOP THIS EXPEDITION \ 



^ WHEN YOU SEE A QUIET 
SPOT PULL OFF THE ROAD 
I WANT TO ASK. OUR 
'friend'a FEW QUESTIONS 




WONDER WHAT HE MEANT ~'j ~/ MBANWHILE / ru ,p C THEY'VE 





14 





May 1950 



EnnEnsiE 





THE LUCKY WALL'S 
SIGN— AND HERE 
- WE GO / 



GOOD HES KNOCKED 
OUT I'LL Tl£ 

HIM UP. 







THE GREAT ADVENTURER 



romans/