“I wish I could go along with the Jup. You may need a little rescuing before this trip is over.”
“I wish you could go,” replied Tim, “but there’ll probably be plenty of excitement around here while I’m gone and you’ll thrive on that. Make arrangements for the return of the cars we left at Auburn.”
Tim had only an hour to get to his room and pack his bag. He hastened there in a cab, jammed shirts, toilet kit, underwear and other necessities into a sturdy leather case, and then was on his way toward the airport.
At the field Carl Hunter shot one question after another at him for the noon edition had been delivered there. Tim answered them as best he could and countered with one of his own.
“Did the amphibian come back here?”
“We haven’t seen it or heard anything. I’ve asked other ports along the line east to keep a lookout for it but they haven’t reported a thing. They’ll probably stop at only the smaller fields until they reach the east again.”
Grenville Ford arrived in a speeding cab just as the afternoon eastbound express roared over the field and circled to point its nose into the wind and land.
“All ready?” he shot at Tim as he dashed into the ticket office.
“Anxious to go,” replied the flying reporter.
By the time the big twin-motored all-metal transport was in the hangar Ford had reappeared with their tickets in one hand and baggage checks in the other.