“My boss isn’t here but I know that friends of Don Haurea are to be given the works. I’ll be glad to do anything I can for you,” he answered.
“Thank you.”
“Roll her up and I’ll lock her in that small hangar for you. I’ll give you a key and in case I’m not here when you return just help yourself. There is a filling tank in the house.”
“That is very courteous.” They exchanged introductions, a few words of general interest, and when the “Lark” was housed, Mr. Austin joined them. His face wore a frown.
“Didn’t we make rather good time, Jim?” he wanted to know.
“Rather,” Jim grinned, but he made no further explanation then.
“When do we eat?” Bob demanded. “To quote Yncicea, my esophagus feels as if my pharynx was severed.”
“We’d better take you right to the nearest hospital,” Mr. Austin laughed. “I’d say you must be suffering.”
“Right you are, but it’s a restaurant I need,” Bob declared.
“There is a very good hotel, any number of them in fact, but one I think is pretty good about a mile from here. I’m sending one of our men up that way in the car. If you care to go along he’ll give you a lift.”