“Oh, that’s all right.” Jack stepped back. “I’m just naturally curious.”
“Oh, sure.” The man smiled again. “Wait. I’ll climb down and we’ll have a cup of coffee. My partner’s gone for some tools. The hiding place is quite a distance away, just in case.”
“I see,” said Jack. “Just in case the Japs happen along.”
“Something like that,” the man agreed. He took a step down, then paused. “You might be wondering how we got our supply of kerosene in here right under the Japs’ noses,” he suggested.
“It does seem odd,” Jack agreed.
“It happens to have been here,” the stranger went on. To his own surprise Jack found himself wondering if the man was telling him the truth or raising a smoke screen of falsehood.
“You see, my partner and I once had trading concessions on some of these islands. The Japs forced us off, but before they did that we hid our fuel. Thought we might want to come back, which we did. But we hardly expected to come in a craft like this.” He laughed softly.
The man climbed down, poured two cups of hot black coffee from a gallon thermos jug, then invited Jack to a seat on a large flat rock.
“So you like our little ship!” the man said, warmed by the coffee. “It’s really a honey. Nothing in the world was ever like it.”
“It sure walks on air,” Jack agreed.