In the course of the morning Fanning’s father arrived, and not long after, to Peggy’s unbounded delight, Jess and Jimsy and a party of friends drove up to the Prescott hangar.
“Why, Peggy, what is the matter with you? You look positively—er—er—dowdy!” exclaimed Jess, gazing at her friend after first greetings were over.
“And Roy, where is Roy?” demanded Jimsy.
“Yes, where is he? We want him to explain the points of this gasolene turkey-buzzard to us,” cried Ed. Taylor, one of the gay party.
“I expect him here any minute,” rejoined Peggy, and then drawing Jess and Jimsy aside she related to them, in a voice that shook in spite of herself, the mysterious occurrences of the night, and Roy’s total disappearance.
“I’m going right over now and ask Fanning if he knows anything about it,” announced Jimsy indignantly as soon as the girl had concluded.
“Oh, don’t, please don’t,” begged his sister.
“I don’t think it would be wise to, now,” put in Peggy.
But Jimsy was not to be shaken in his purpose. Fanning was outside his hangar smoking a cigarette and swaggering about when Jimsy approached him. Perhaps the self-assertive youth felt a bit alarmed at the look in Jimsy’s eye as he stepped up, but he assumed an impudent expression and blew out a puff of smoke which he did not try to avert from Jimsy’s face.
“Good morning, Fanning,” said Jimsy, bottling up his temper at the other’s insulting manners, “can you give me a few minutes of private conversation?”