“Maybe the first one will open,” Patch said. “It worked for those men.”
Garry went over to the first craft and pressed the door button. Instantly, the door sprang open. A tiny air-lock chamber faced them.
“Thank goodness,” Patch murmured. “Let’s go in.”
“What if the men come back?” Garry cautioned. “They may be preparing for a trip.”
“There are windows facing the corridor,” Patch said. “We can keep an eye out for them and duck for cover again if they return. Gee, let’s try it anyhow, Garry! I feel like a penguin that’s lost all its feathers!”
Garry agreed and entered the flier, Patch climbing in behind. A second door led from the air lock chamber into the flier proper. Besides the pilot’s seat, there were six other seats, three on a side. It was warmer in here than outside, and Garry felt heat gently blowing. This made him suspect that the men had just turned it on and that they were going to return for a trip in the craft.
“I’m afraid we won’t have long to stay in here,” Garry told his friend and mentioned his suspicion to him.
“I guess you’re right,” Patch agreed. “Where will we go from here? Garry, I’m tired of running. And I’m getting more scared by the minute because of what we’re doing. Why don’t we just turn ourselves in and face the music, whatever it is?”
Through a window of the taxi, Garry was watching the corridor for signs of the returning men. “I guess you’re right, Patch,” he said. “We’ll give ourselves up when those men return.”
“I don’t think we should wait until then,” Patch objected. “It will go a lot easier for us if we give ourselves up voluntarily instead of looking as if we had been caught.”