“Twin-engines, 575 horsepower each,” said Hunter. “That’s a high-speed ship.”
“Stream-lined down to get every ounce of speed out of it, too,” said Tim. “It cost plenty of shekels to build that flying boat.”
Inside the commodious cabin men were preparing to get out through the hatch at the rear. The first to appear was short, squat, with a nose that looked like a substantial fist had pushed it back against his face.
“Nice looking customer to meet on a dark night,” said Hunter.
Tim recognized the second man to appear as Sladek. He looked to be about 40 with a strong, hard face and eyes set so far back that they had a peculiar penetrating intentness and gave you the idea that Sladek was trying to ferret out your innermost secrets. The owner of the amphib was followed by a third man, who appeared to be a second-rate fighter, while the pilot was the last to emerge.
Hunter stepped forward and spoke to the former rum runner.
“We’ll have your ship refueled and ready to go in fifteen minutes.”
“Thanks. I’ve got to look at some maps. We’ll be here half an hour at least; perhaps longer.”
Tim remained in the background. He’d pick up as much as he could from the conversation of the visitors before stepping in and asking for a story. It was evident that the two with Sladek and the pilot were bodyguards, for they kept close to their employer and scanned everyone with suspicious eyes.
Sladek went into the administration building and scanned the large scale map of the state which hung on one wall. Tim, loitering behind, started involuntarily as he saw the section of the state which interested Sladek. It was the Cedar river country—the same section into which his mysterious “Mr. Seven” had gone.