The plane evidently had the answer they wanted and, sheering off, shot away without a reply. Lawrence set his teeth. If they could be so discourteous he could follow at all events, and see where the curious plane hailed from. He wheeled his machine and, taking a higher level, sailed off in pursuit, keeping a good distance behind. An hour’s flight brought them above a small open field and here the plane suddenly dipped, and going at a breakneck angle dropped to the ground. Then as though by magic it disappeared. There was no hangar, yet the machine went under cover as though the earth had swallowed it.
Again and again Lawrence circled the field, and it worried him to imagine the chuckles the other pilot was indulging in at his expense.
Try as he might, he could not locate any sign of life. It struck him as a rather queer thing. He turned his nose upward again, and located the field by some trees and other landmarks, then turned toward the home field.
Dropping easily down, he found O’Brien surrounded by a group of men, all of whom seemed to be watching him with a good deal of interest.
“Hey, young felly,” called O’Brien, “do you always make so neat a landing as that last?”
“I suppose so,” answered Lawrence. “What was there about that one?”
“It was all right; that was it,” said O’Brien. “If that’s the way you fly, you can have all me pretty toys at once, on a string.”
“One is enough,” laughed Lawrence. “Don’t you want to go up?”
“I wouldn’t mind a short flight, just to see how you manage it,” said O’Brien, gently relieving the man next him of his helmet and goggles.
Rising once more, Lawrence waited until they had gained a good height, then as they sailed along in a steady current, he told O’Brien of his encounter and the curious thing about the landing place of the strange car and its sudden disappearance.