“Heard any thing yet?” shouted three boys springing to the ladder opening.
“Not yet,” replied Bob, “but when I do I want to break right in while I got ’em.”
For some minutes Alan scratched away at Roy’s table. Then he submitted the following:
“Herald, New York. Wire reporters photographers be at Acton suburb old moat one thirty London time with all supplies. Have motor for forms northeast corner Hyde Park from twelve thirty. Men carry white handkerchiefs. No stop park.”
When he had read this Ned laughed.
“Can’t you imagine the Herald will be just a bit curious as to whether we are in the air or the sea?”
Alan added:
“All well. On time. Left Fogo eight fifty-nine. This forwarded at —— o’clock (‘that’s for Bob to fill in if he ever gets it off,’ Alan explained). At ten thirty P. M., about 240 miles off N. F. Napier, Ocean Flyer.”
“Cut out the ‘Napier,’” ordered Ned, “and I think it’ll do.”
Alan did so but when he handed the message to Bob he instructed him to reinsert the name.