“She does look good. Let’s not light up this place; it may attract attention from the house and Senor de Castro will think something is wrong,” Jim proposed, as he opened the door to the cock-pit.
“Suits me.” Bob climbed into the pilot seat and while he adjusted the parachute, Austin glanced at the radio instrument then suddenly switched off the light on the control board.
“What’s up—”
“I don’t know. Look at the dials,” Jim whispered, and then Bob noticed an odd green light playing about the rims of the instrument.
“It’s the signal from the Laboratory,” Bob said softly.
“Green means anger. Someone who is hopping mad is around here, Buddy. Scrutinize your process, old timer.”
“Perhaps you’d better see how things are in the back,” Caldwell said aloud, quite as if they had no warning of danger.
“All right, but why the heck didn’t you look before you climbed in?” Jim grumbled. Instead of jumping out of the cock-pit in the normal fashion, he leaped over the back, stepped onto the fuselage, then swung onto the wing. In a moment he had pushed a button and immediately the place was a blaze of light.
“Well, look who’s here,” Bob exclaimed in astonishment, and Jim dropped on his stomach to look over the side.
“If it ain’t the Dolly Sisters,” he grinned.