“There was a transport that left at nine o’clock this morning,” he replied, to both girls’ utter dismay. Only an hour ago! They had lost the race by sixty short minutes!
“Oh!” gasped Linda, sadly, and tears of disappointment came into Helen’s eyes.
The young man seemed to be thinking.
“I can’t recall anyone by the name of Tower,” he said. “And I myself went over the lists.”
Linda’s eyes narrowed.
“Then Mr. Tower must be using another name—just as he used the disguise of an old man—” she added, to Helen. Then, turning to the officer, she explained that she had a warrant for Tower’s arrest.
“There couldn’t be another boat going to England?” she asked.
“No. Air transports aren’t like passenger boats,” he replied, “sailing every few days. There are only a limited number in existence.”
Linda was silent, trying to think of something that she could do. It was the young man who finally made the suggestion which she followed.
“Look here, Miss,” he said, “why don’t you go after the boat? You have an autogiro, haven’t you?”