“See that window, pal?” Dave said softly, and pointed.
“Certainly,” Freddy replied. “Why?”
“It only happens to be fourteen floors above the street!” Dave said darkly. “And you’re not wearing your parachute now. Just keep that little item in mind, sweetheart!”
“If I go, there’ll be two of us!” the English youth snorted, and then grinned.
“Okay, okay!” Colonel Welsh growled, though there was a smile at the corners of his mouth. “Recess is over, children. Let’s get back to serious things. And it is mighty serious. We know what happened to poor Tracey, and I wouldn’t want—”
The senior officer hesitated and gestured with one hand.
“Neither would we, sir,” Dave spoke up quietly. “But this isn’t any pink tea. And Freddy and I have played plenty of long shot chances before. So there’s no sense talking about the danger part. Now, here is my idea. We’ll go to Albuquerque by air, of course. And don’t worry! We’ll keep low enough so that we won’t have to sip oxygen at all. So that angle’s out. And we’ll also give the plane a darn good going over before a throttle is opened wide. On the way, we will keep our eyes open. And every minute after that.”
“You could be attacked from the air,” Colonel Welsh said with a scowl. “It’s happened before. And this time it might be odds that you two sky scrappers couldn’t match.”[[2]]
“That’s one of the chances we take,” Freddy Farmer said gravely. “But I’ve got an idea. Why not have another plane follow us—one piloted by one of your agents, sir? Then if Dave and I bump into trouble, he can give us a hand. Then, too, he might spot the chap hiking after us, scare him off, and trail him back home. Then you’d have him, nice as can be. And in his secret drome hide-out, no doubt.”
“Somebody else has been reading books on the sly, too!” Dave said with a chuckle. “Pick yourself another apple, Freddy. That was tops for an idea. Don’t you think so, sir?”