CHAPTER XIV.
WHAT'S TO BE DONE WITH THE WREN?
The Golden Butterfly, as an examination proved, had not been damaged during their imprisonment in the hut. Evidently, the men who had slammed the door and padlocked it had made off at top speed as soon as they had completed what they hoped would be a source of sore trouble to the young aviators.
"And now we'll fly back as agreed," declared Peggy merrily.
Her spirits, almost down to zero in the hut, had recovered themselves marvellously in the fresh open air. She was radiant.
"I declare that the stay in the hut has done you good," declared Jimsy, looking at her admiringly.
"Maybe it has—by contrast," returned Peggy.
"Like a sea trip," put in Roy. "I've heard that people who suffer from sea sickness are so much relieved when they get ashore that they imagine their good spirits are due to a change in their condition."
"Well, that applies to me," returned Peggy; "I didn't think we'd get out of that hut so easily. How do you suppose that gun came to be there?"
"The hunters who use the hut must have left it there," rejoined Roy; "I wonder if they'll ever know how useful it was to us."