“Miami, I guess. Any town with a police station and a jail for our passengers! But Dad and I have slews of friends in Miami, and we may need friends badly before we’re clear of this business. How does that suit you?”
“It’s as good a spot to land as another. I want to see this place and Shell Island cleaned out before I go home.”
“Just one thing more, Osceola.”
“What’s that?”
“If there’s trouble aboard the amphibian—with the passengers, I mean—well—I’m not coming back unless I can bring a posse.”
“You’ll crash her first?”
“Just that—agree?”
“Of course I agree to it. I’d a thousand times rather be dead than live the life of the last few weeks over again. If there’s no other way out, crash her. That’s a quick end—but to be brought back here means death by inches for both of us.”
Sam appeared in the doorway, carrying a couple of suitcases. “I’se all ready, gennulmen, when yo’all is.”
“That being the case,” smiled Bill, “my vote goes for a speedy departure. Ready, Osceola?”