“Well, the familiarity with which the aviator landed shows he’s been at Starfish Cove before. Evidently, after landing he struck inland to that secret radio station, because we saw no sign of him.”
“We haven’t been up in the air for three weeks,” said Frank. “That plane might easily have come 19 and gone in that time without our seeing it. But, surely, as Jack says, we would have heard it at some time or other. Haven’t either of you heard the sound of a plane lately?” he appealed to the others. “I know I haven’t.”
Bob and Jack both shook their heads in negation.
“No planes ever come out this way,” Bob said. “They fly south or north of us, but not out here. I haven’t heard anything.”
Jack rose and stretched.
“Well, I, for one, vote that we do not pursue our investigations into this mystery by going back and, perhaps, getting peppered with gunshot.”
“But, Jack,” protested Bob, the impetuous, “we want to know what’s going on. You can’t have a mystery dumped right in your own dooryard without digging into it.”
Frank was thoughtful.
“That’s true, Bob, old thing,” he said. “Just the same, I agree with Jack. What do you say to laying the matter before Uncle George and Mr. Hampton at dinner? Jack and his father are coming over to our house to-night, you know.”
“Good,” said Jack. “We can put it up to them, and, perhaps, they will know something about the man who owns that land around Starfish Cove, where this secret radio is located.” 20