“Well,” said Red, “something has got to be done, and darned quick, or we’ll be toddling into Lakehurst on Zeppelin time, or more. And we’d get the merry ha-ha all around. Anyhow, you put those papers under lock and key.”
David laughed, and followed Red forward to the chart room, where the indicator stood stubbornly at seventy miles.
But they did not know that at the moment when they had stepped from David’s cabin into the passage, a man had slipped like a shadow into another room; a man, who, just outside David’s open door, had listened to the conversation between the two friends.
The listener stood deep in thought.
“In the suitcase, eh?” he whispered. “Well, there’s no hurry.”
But that night Red woke suddenly. David, a flashlight in his hand, was shaking him. He was very pale.
“Wake up, Red!” he said. “The plans are gone!”
CHAPTER XIV
ON THE OBSERVER’S PLATFORM
Red lunged up, awake in an instant. “What’s that?” he demanded.