“Why, Dick, what do you think it is?” Dories inquired.
“I don’t think; I know! It’s that seaplane! Look! There she soars. See her take the air! Now the pilot’s turning her nose, and heading straight for Boston.”
“Whoever ’tis in that airplane is takin’ a purty big chance,” Gibralter commented, “startin’ up with night a comin’ on and fog a sailin’ in.”
Dick was optimistic. “He’ll keep ahead of the fog all right, and those high-powered machines travel so fast he’ll be at the landing place, outside of Boston, before it’s really dark. He’s safe enough, but the big question is, who is he, and what was he doing over there close to the old ruin?”
“Maybe he knows about that opening in the swamp,” Nann ventured.
“I bet ye he does! Like’s not he has a little boat and goes up to the ol’ ruin in it.”
“But where do you suppose his airship was anchored?” Dories inquired. “Probably in the cove beyond the marsh,” Dick replied, when Gib broke in with, “Gee, I sure sartin wish we’d taken a chance and gone out in the punt. I sure do. I’d o’ gone, but Dick, he was afraid!”
The city lad flushed, but he said at once, “You are wrong, Gib, but I promised my mother that I would only go out in your punt when the tide was low, and when I give my word, she knows that she can depend upon it.”
“You are right, Dick. It is worth more to have your mother able to trust you, when you are out of her sight, than it is to solve all the mysteries that ever were or will be.” Nann’s voice expressed her approval of the city lad. Gib’s only comment was, “Wall, how kin we go at low tide? It comes ’long ’bout midnight!”
“What if it does? We can—” Dick had started to say, but interrupted himself to add, “’Twouldn’t be fair to go without the girls since they found the opening in the swamp. It will be low tide again tomorrow noon, and I vote we wait until then.”