It would have been hard to tell which created the most excitement—Jack’s freak plane or Ted’s white girl, rescued after having spent two years on a wild cannibal island.
Mary dropped out of the competition rather soon, for the ship’s Commander carried her away to a late dinner such as she had not known for two long years. Then he instructed his orderly to attend to all her needs, and to stow her away at last in a small cabin behind the bridge, where she might sleep as long as she pleased.
Lieutenant Commander Donald Stone had been asleep when Jack came on board, but an hour later he came up to the flight deck. When he saw the jet plane he stared, rubbed his eyes, and then looked again.
“Jack! How did you get it? And where?” he demanded.
So, once more Jack told his story.
“It seems almost unbelievable!” said the Commander. “Before I was assigned to the Black Bee, I was sent to England to study an English plane that was an exact duplicate of this one!”
“But this is an all-American plane, sir,” said Jack. “The maker’s name is on each instrument.”
“That means we are considering going into production, or would be,” the Commander corrected, “if this plane had been shipped to us for a tryout. But now—h’m—what are we to make of it? You say the first men who flew it seemed to be British?”
“Yes, sir, and the last two were Nazis. They even had three Japs with them.”
“Well, anyway,” the Commander said, “we have the plane. What to do about it, that’s the question.”