They were not far from the coast and in a very short time were flying over the water, whereupon Bob made a sweep to the right and the plane headed westward. The Atlantic rocked gently below, serene under a smiling sun and with only the merest whisper of a breeze caressing it. On the southern horizon 13 a plume or two of smoke, only faintly discernible, marked where great liners were standing in for the distant metropolis. To the north, far away, showed a sail or two, of fishing craft or coastwise schooner.
An exclamation escaped Frank and he leaned sidewise, gripping Jack by the arm and pointing with his free hand. But Jack had a radio receiver clamped on his head and was frowning. He glanced only hastily in the direction indicated by Frank, then shut his eyes as if in an effort at concentration.
Frank continued to gaze, then bent down and unlashed a pair of binoculars from a pocket in the pit and, putting the glasses to his eyes, threw back his head and began scanning the sky. After staring long minutes, he hastily put aside the glasses, lifted the radio transmitter strapped to his chest and spoke in it to Bob:
“Bob, there’s a plane overhead. So high you can’t see it with the naked eye. But I spotted it before it rose too high, and followed it with the glasses. The fellow’s up where the sun plays tricks with your eyesight. And, Bob, I’ve got a hunch he’s watching us. There’s Starfish Cove below us now. Keep right on flying. Don’t turn inland.”
Bob nodded, and the plane continued its way westward offshore. Frank again took up the glasses and searched the sky, gradually increasing the focal 14 radius. An exclamation from Frank and a hurried request in the transmitter presently reached Bob’s ears:
“Shut her off, Bob, and let’s land on the water. Quick. I’ll explain in a minute.”
Obediently, big Bob shut off the engine, and the plane coasted on a long slant to a safe landing some hundreds of yards out from the sandy, deserted shore.
Bob and Jack snatched the headpieces off, and turned inquiringly to their chum.
“Here,” cried Frank, pressing the glasses into Bob’s hands. “Take a look. That plane is landing way back there, and I believe it is at Starfish Cove.”
Bob was too late to see if the situation was as Frank described, however. Putting up the glasses, he turned to his chum.