The aviation instructor looked at Jimsy in a puzzled way, rather as if he thought the youth might be having some fun with him.
“No, no, this is serious. I mean it,” spoke Jimsy quickly. “Roy has gone!”
“Yes. He vanished last night. But sit down and we’ll tell you all about it. Maybe you can help us out.”
Absolutely “flabbergasted,” to use his own expression, the good-looking young flying man sank down on an upturned case, while Jimsy went on to relate all that had occurred, with Peggy every now and then striking in with additions and corrections.
Another ear also took in the conversation—that of Jukes Dade—who had seen the arrival of the well-dressed young aviator, and had instantly slipped back to his eavesdropping post to learn what the newcomer’s business might be.
It might have been an hour later that a chauffeur, summoned by ’phone from the grandstand, brought the Bancrofts’ car up to the hangar and Hal Homer, Jess and Jimsy emerged.
“Drive to the police station,” ordered Hal Homer as he stepped in, leaving Jess and Jimsy behind.
Jukes Dade, peering around a corner of the hangar, heard the order and grew pale.
“Looks bad,” he muttered as the car rolled off; “I wonder if they know anything. If they do, I’m off. This isn’t a healthy part of the country for Jukes Dade from the minute that kid is found. He didn’t recognize Gid or young Harding, but he knew me all right. I could tell it by the way he looked at me, and if he’s found the first man they’ll hunt for is me.”