“Promise me,” the old man insisted.
“I promise.” Johnny put out a hand that was at once caught in a grip of steel.
And so they marched away into the golden, tropical dawn.
* * * * * * * *
Those on the Sea Nymph were on deck early that morning. Coffee and muffins were served in the forward cabin. After Dave told what was happening on land, a silence fell over the party. Active, happy, always friendly, Mildred had found her way into all their hearts.
“Dave,” said the professor at last, breaking the silence, “since that fine old man Kennedy is in a good way to lose his granddaughter—”
“Oh, but he won’t!” Doris broke in. “Not with Johnny Thompson on the trail of those spies. I had a letter last week from an old friend, Marjory Morrison. She’s known our Johnny a long time, and she says he’s a marvel!”
“No doubt,” said the professor. “But spies, my dear!”
“Spies are cowards,” Doris exclaimed. “Just the same—I’d like doing something for those Kennedys!”
“Just what I was about to suggest,” the professor beamed. “Manifestly, we can’t sail this ship up that mountain but we can go in search of their sunken schooner!”