On the last ledge, which sloped very gradually into the sea, there was something resembling a plane. Two men were moving about it. Since they were still half a mile away, they could make out very few details of this strange setup.
Pulling his companion into the shadow of a rock, Jack unslung his small binoculars for a look. Instantly his lips parted in surprise.
“That plane has no propeller!” he exclaimed.
“Probably took it off for repairs,” Stew suggested.
“Who knows?” Jack was clearly puzzled. “It doesn’t look quite like any plane I ever saw.”
“What are the men like?” Stew asked. “Give me a look.”
“Huh!” he grunted, when he held the binoculars to his eyes. “White men—not Japs. Not in uniform. Might be anybody.”
“Probably German traders who stayed here,” Jack suggested. “These islands were full of them before the war.”
“In that case I’m for getting off this island mighty quick!” Stew declared.
“How?”