“It’s just like the story books!” cried Peggy, delightedly.
They raced down toward the coveted can, which was half full of the precious fuel. Enough to get them ashore at any rate. Before returning to the stranded aeroplane they examined the hut, but found nothing in it but a few broken-down bits of furniture.
“Queer,” commented Jeff, “I half expected to find something.”
“Not likely,” laughed Roy, “they’re too foxy for that.”
“What do you suppose they came to the island for?” asked Peggy.
“To get a quiet place to talk where they would not be observed by any one who knew them, I guess,” rejoined her brother. “Oh, if only we could solve the mystery. It's tantalizing to be so close to it and yet with so many tangled ends left ravelled.”
“Be patient,” advised Peggy, “it will all come out in time. And now I’m as famished for lunch as the Golden Butterfly is, so lets fill up the tank and then head for home.”
“Second the motion,” laughed Jeff Stokes.
Half an hour later the Golden Butterfly once more rose, and without incident or mishap winged her way back to Rocky Point.