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cards. Jack Wayne filed the necessary flight plan to Mazatlan and soon the travelers were winging off on the final leg of their flight.
    Frank and Joe were particularly awed by the country over which they were flying. Beneath them was a mixture of open plains and bleached deserts. Mountains jutted up on all sides, and some of these seemed to Chet to be higher than their own altitude.
    As they neared their destination the group gazed down on a solid layer of stratus clouds.
    â€œLooks like bad weather rolling in from the coast,” Frank observed.
    Jack agreed. “I’ve been watching it. I’d better contact Mazatlan and see what’s up.”
    The pilot switched on the radio. It crackled for an instant, then was silent. He turned on the stand-by radio. Nothing! Jack tapped the radio compass and other navigational equipment vigorously. “Oh, nol” he muttered.
    â€œTrouble?” Mr. Hardy queried.
    â€œAll our radios have gone out!” the pilot replied anxiously. “We must have a short in the electrical system.”
    â€œAnd we don’t know what the visibility is like below that cloud layer!” Frank declared. “If it’s zero-zero, we’d have to make an instrument approach. That’s something we can’t do without our radios!”
    â€œAt least we’re west of the Sierra Madre Mountains,” Joe commented. “We don’t have to worry about running into those.”
    â€œWhat about turning around and going back?” Mr. Hardy suggested. “The weather is clear east of the mountains.”
    Jack turned and scanned the area behind him. “I’m afraid that’s out! Take a look yourselves!”
    The Hardys and Chet turned to see a frightening sight. Towering cumulo-nimbus clouds—thunderstorms—were already developing along the windward side of the mountains.
    â€œWe could never climb high enough to get over those storms!” the pilot said. “And to fly through them would be suidde!”
    â€œThen we’re trapped!” Joe exclaimed.

CHAPTER IV
    The Hostage
    FRANK frantically tried to get the radios working, while Jack Wayne flew in a continuous circle to maintain their position over Mazatlan.
    â€œNo good!” Frank finally declared, “We’ll have to do the best we can without the radios!”
    Chet groaned and Mr. Hardy looked grim. Jack suddenly straightened the plane out on a westerly course. “I’m going to try something,” he said.
    â€œWhat?” Joe questioned nervously.
    â€œThe cloud layer doesn’t extend too far out to sea,” Jack answered. “I’m going to let down over the water in the clear. From there, we can see whether there’s enough of a ceiling for us to get into Mazatlan.”
    The boys stared ahead as the pilot began his descent. After they had passed beyond the edge of the cloud layer, he dived the plane as low as he dared, then turned east toward the coast.
    â€œWe’re in luck!” Frank exclaimed. “There’s a ceiling of at least two or three hundred feet!”
    â€œYes,” Jack agreed. “But the visibility isn’t too good. However, if we’re careful, we should be able to make it. Let’s hope it doesn’t get any worse.”
    The plane was now flying just above the surface of the water. Frank and the others peered ahead into the mist.
    Suddenly Joe pointed off to his left. “I see something out there! Or is it just a band of dark clouds?”
    The pilot leaned forward in his seat. “That’s the coast of Mexico!” he cried jubilantly.
    As they flew closer, various features of the terrain became more clearly defined. Frank unfolded a chart and compared the coastline they were approaching with the map profile.
    â€œThat wide inlet directly ahead, with a peninsula of land jutting out from the left, matches the shape of the coastline on the map where Mazatlan is located!” he