The pair went off amid the reports of the motorcycle, and then the neighbors, assured that the Langwells were unhurt and in no further danger, departed. Before she went to bed Roberta took another look at the old barn-hangar where Nike and the Falcon were still resting securely. With a sigh of relief she glanced toward the sky, which was mighty dark, but she caught the faint outline of the moon shining through as if she had decided to lighten things up a bit in the vicinity of the beloved airplane and its owner. In spite of the excitement and terror, the girl was so weary that she dropped off to sleep at once and it was late when she awakened. To her amazement she heard voices in the vicinity of the hangar, but when she hopped out of bed, she saw it was her Dad there with the village electrician.
“Good morning, dear, I thought I heard you moving about.”
“Morning, Mummy. What are they doing out there?”
“Your father decided to have a good alarm put on the door so that the next unwelcome hand that tries to tamper with it will wake up the neighborhood,” she explained.
“Dad’s a dear,” the girl answered.
“I’ve always thought so,” her mother admitted.
“And you have known him a lot longer than I have,” Roberta chuckled.
“How would you like some breakfast here—”
“Top hole, but I’m going to get into some clothes and come down and get it before you spoil me entirely,” she laughed and gave her mother a resounding kiss. “Oh, isn’t it great that there was no damage really done!”
“Simply great.”