“It’s unanimous. Let’s hurry and get something that feels like no shirt, and be on our way,” Bob urged. There was no objection to this, so they paid their bill, Jim got a taxi to take him back to the drome, while his father and Caldwell took another to expedite their shopping tour.
In due time young Austin was unlocking the hangar, and he gave the “Lark” a careful examination, then replenished the fuel supply, tried out the engine, and finally rolled the plane down the runway. One of the mechanics offered his assistance, which the boy declined for he didn’t really need help and he didn’t want an outsider to play nursemaid to his bus. Everything was in apple pie order when a taxi drove up with Mr. Austin and Bob, and Jim noticed a third man, who was in the uniform of an officer of the Marines.
“We got a dozen sets of cob-webs, Old Timer,” Bob called.
“I’ll change into mine right away.” The two were coming toward him, and Mr. Austin handed a small package to his son.
“I have the extra suits in another bundle to put with the luggage. Jim, we met Lieutenant Morrow of the Marines. He is in a very unfortunate predicament, my son, and wants us to give him a lift across to Havana so he can join his company. He has been on leave, but he missed the N. Y. R. B. A. air line, and he cannot get a boat. It is very important that he join his company tonight,” Mr. Austin explained as he introduced them.
“Didn’t know there were any Marines in Havana,” Jim remarked as he greeted the officer.
“There aren’t, but I can get a lift from there without any trouble,” Lieutenant Morrow explained. “You see, I got five-day’s leave because my wife was sick. She’s been in a bad way and I stayed with her until the last minute. I wanted to be with her every minute that I could. Then the train I took to get here was delayed,” Morrow said. His face wore an anxious expression, and his eyes looked as if he had lost a week’s sleep, but Jim hesitated.
“He asked us if we were flying to Cuba and told us the trouble he’s in. It is serious, you know Jim, if he doesn’t join his company when he’s supposed to. I told him that you have been doing the piloting and I do not know how much weight we are carrying,” Bob explained. Jim could see that both his Buddy and his father were anxious to accommodate the stranded Marine and he frowned.
“Mighty sorry, old man, not to be able to help you out. I’d do it in a minute, but our plane is not very big and I’ve just tanked up to the last ounce we’ll carry,” he said with emphasis. Bob looked at him, but Jim busied himself about the machine.
“Can’t you dump out the extra stuff?” Morrow urged. He had fully expected to be taken and he showed his resentment. “I’m an officer of our Federal Government and you are in duty bound to assist me. I can order you to do so—”