“We’ll see you in the air and on the deck of the Black Bee.” Jack gave the ship the gun. The plane whistled. He released the brakes. She slid into the sea. Giving her another spurt, he felt her rise into the air.
“We’ve got plenty of fuel,” he said to Stew. “We’ll just circle a bit and see if we can pick up Ted and that girl.”
“That’s the best thing to do,” was Stew’s comment. “I’ll feel a lot easier if Ted hits the old Black Bee’s deck ahead of us.”
“And sort of prepare the gang for this freak,” said Jack. “Not a bad idea.”
CHAPTER XXV
JACK’S NEW GUNNER
In the meantime Ted was growing impatient. Having taxied his plane through the gap into the open sea, he had made a practice run and found her perfect. Then he had sent the plane gliding back into hiding.
But what had become of Jack and Mary, and now Stew? When he heard the wail of the jet plane he feared the worst. They had been killed or taken prisoner. Only the fact that six husky natives armed with powerful rifles were hidden away in the shadows beyond his small harbor kept him there.
Then suddenly he heard a loud “Yoo—hoo! Yoo—hoo! I’m here! Taxi over!” He recognized the voice. It was Mary.
When he slid in close to a flat rock he found her surrounded by a score of natives. She was embracing them and calling them pet names as if they were her brothers and sisters.
At last, grabbing up a battered overnight bag and Jack’s violin, she called out a native word that Ted thought must mean “good-by,” then made a flying leap for his left wing, which very nearly touched the rock.