“I’ll hope to have some news for you, then,” said Dorothy.
“Going up in spite of the rain?”
“I’ve got to. We can’t afford to waste time—the weather’s not so bad.”
“There are storm warnings out all along the coast.”
“I’ll be careful, Daddy.”
“All right. Bye-bye till dinner time.”
“Bye.”
She hung up the receiver and for the rest of the morning, busied herself about the house, determined not to let her mind dwell upon the darker side of this latest development. After lunch she changed into flying clothes and went out to the hangar.
Unlocking the doors, she set to work filling the amphibian’s gasoline tanks. Then she went over the engine carefully and gave it a short ground test. After that, the instruments came under her inspection. Altogether, she gave her plane a thorough overhauling, which was not entirely necessary, but kept her from thinking and helped to kill time.
About twenty minutes to five she ran the amphibian out of the hangar and took off into the teeth of a fine rain. It was no part of her plan to fly in the neighborhood of the Beach Club until the plane she was seeking should put in an appearance. Her self-imposed duty was to spot the mysterious amphibian and to follow it to its destination without allowing the pilot or an understudy to spot her.