“He did not,” sneered Bill. “That, as he explained, was entirely up to me!”
For several minutes no one spoke.
“We sure are up against it,” sighed Dorothy at last.
“You mean I am,” was Bill’s reply. “The only thing I can do is to start a series of patrols.”
“We will start a series of patrols,” she corrected. “Two planes will be better than one.”
“Just as you say.” Bill showed no enthusiasm. “My idea of something uninteresting to do is to fly around all day, hunting another plane, that’s probably safely housed in its hangar all the time.”
“Oh, don’t be such a wet blanket! If none of us have brains enough to think of a plan to trap that fellow, there’s no use grouching over it!”
“That’s all very well. But where are we going to patrol? You told me, I think, that those lads planned to take you from the warehouse to their headquarters in Connecticut. This state’s not so big when you compare it with Texas or California—but when it comes to locating a single plane—”
“Listen!” cried Dorothy and ran to the porch steps. “Come here—all of you—quick!”
The deep drone of an airplane increased to a giant roar as a smart two-seater swept down toward the house.