Frank swung around. His young face fairly glowed with animation and expectation.
“How about it, Frank?” asked Billy, as nervous as ever.
“They’re on the wing and heading this way. Everybody get aboard while I fling open the doors and fix it to start!”
There was no confusion because they all knew exactly what was expected of them, and everyone had his place arranged.
Frank swung aboard as the big seaplane began to move. In another second they had passed beyond the doors and commenced to descend the trestle leading to the surface of the bay.
The seaplane took the water with the grace of a swan. There was something of a splash when the connection was made, but that odd bow so like a spoon had been built especially to spurn the water, and so the craft skimmed along just as a flat stone hurled by a boy’s hand will skip over the surface until its momentum has been exhausted.
“There’s something of a crowd over there watching us, Frank!” announced Billy, as he pointed to the shore, at some little distance away.
“Could they have known about what we expected to do,” remarked Pudge, “or is it just the idle crowd that was chased away yesterday by the guard, come to see what’s on the program for to-day?”
“The chances are some of those spies are among the lot,” Billy said at a hazard.
“If they are they’ll be kicking themselves soon because they can’t get word to their friends up the coast,” Pudge continued, looking as though he considered that he might be going to have the time of his life, as no doubt he was.