“Well, if that isn’t luck,” said Jimmy. “Take me to the burned plane, will you, and tell me what you know about the affair.”
“All right. Come along,” and Johnnie led the way toward a clearing on the slope of a hill at some little distance.
The way was rough, for they had to pass over some stony fields and through a patch of timber. They had ample time to talk as they walked.
“How did you happen to see Warren Long’s burning plane?” asked Jimmy.
“I was looking for it.”
“Looking for it! What do you mean?”
“Just what I say. I was looking for it, though I had no idea it was going to be afire. You see, ever since you got into the Air Mail, Jimmy, I have been interested in the mail planes. I have always hoped that one of them would land here. And as long as you were a mail pilot I guess I was always hoping that you would be piloting the ship that stopped here. Well, I got so much interested in the mail planes that I kept right on watching for them, even after you left the service. You know the first night mail plane always comes over here just about bedtime, and I almost always step out-of-doors and watch it sail over.”
“I know how you feel,” said Jimmy.
“Well,” continued Johnnie, “when I heard the mail plane coming last night I stepped outside as usual, and there was the plane. But something was wrong. It was afire. You could see the flames plainly. It flew in a crazy fashion——”
“That must have been while Warren Long was fighting the flames,” interrupted Jimmy.