“I‘ll fly one of them. Tommy Larkin will handle the controls in the other. By the way, you must meet Larkin. He’s a fine flyer.”
At the mention of Larkin’s name, Tim felt a sickening premonition. It was the fear that McDowell suspected Larkin of being a federal agent. It would be so easy for him to crash into Larkin before the scheduled time.
McDowell called to a flyer who was squirming out of coveralls.
“Tommy,” he said, “come over and meet the flying reporters from the News. There isn’t enough going on here on the ground, so these fellows hop around in the clouds hunting stories.”
“Glad to know you,” grinned Tommy, as he shook hands with Tim and Ralph. “I’ve read a lot about you, first getting the Sky Hawk and then cleaning up the rustlers in the mountains west of here.”
“I was in on the pursuit of the Sky Hawk,” said Ralph, “but Tim ran down the rustlers single-handed. He’s getting to be quite a sleuth.”
Tim saw McDowell’s eyes narrow and he felt them boring into him. He changed the trend of the conversation at once.
“We brought several cars from the News down,” he said. “Let’s get out your baggage and we’ll be glad to take you uptown.”
By pre-arrangement, Ralph stepped over to help McDowell while Tim went with Tommy Larkin. They reached into the baggage compartment of Larkin’s monoplane and Tim whispered, “Prentiss is in town. He got your message and everything’s set for tomorrow afternoon.”
“Tell him the stuff is in McDowell’s ship in a special compartment under the floor. Be careful. I’ve a feeling that McDowell doesn’t trust me.”