“Then, I’ll tell you what we’ll do!” Jimmie argued. “We’ll fly straight over the ridge under which the camp nestles, slow down gradually, so our motors will sound like they were getting farther away every moment, and then land. We ought to be able to climb back to the top of the ridge in a few minutes and look down into the camp.”
“Aw, what’s the good of just looking down into it?” demanded Carl. “We ought to get near enough so we can see and hear what’s going on!”
“I don’t care how near we get to it!” grinned Jimmie.
The plan suggested by the boy, reckless as it was, was carried out. The Louise found a resting-place to the west of the ridge and the boys sat down to consider future movements.
“Honest, now,” Jimmie said, looking up at the fairly easy slope which led to the summit lying between the aeroplane and the camp, “one of us ought to stay by the machine!”
“All right!” Carl agreed. “You remain here and I’ll hike down and see what I can find out. But, look here,” the lad continued, “you mustn’t go prowling around! You mustn’t leave the machine! I may come back on the jump, and want to get into the air in about a quarter of a second!”
“Huh!” grinned Jimmie. “You went off and left the machine when you were on guard near the smugglers’ camp. I wouldn’t talk about prowling around, if I were you!”
“This is different!” urged Carl. “When I left the machine then I didn’t know that there were a lot of mountain brigands ready to grab it.”
“All right!” Jimmie acquiesced. “I’ll stay here by the machine for an hour. If you don’t come back by that time, I’ll come after you.”
“Yes, you’ll come after me!” cried Carl. “You’d better stay where you are! How would you know where to look for me in that mess over on the other side?”