“Why, yes, child! Didn’t you know? He went in an airplane. He invited me to the airport. I saw him off. Just such a day as this one, fine and clear, few white clouds afloatin’. I can see that plane sailin’ away. Recollect the number of it even. It was D.X.123.
“And they say,” he added slowly, “that he never came back!”
“Wh—where was he going?” June’s voice was husky.
“That’s what I don’t know. He never told me that.” The old man looked away at the sky as if he would call that airplane back.
“And that,” he added after a time, “is just about all I can tell you.”
That too was all they found out from anyone that day. The other people living close to the red brick house were recent arrivals. They knew nothing of John Travis.
When June, weary and sleepy from travel and excitement, arrived at her home, she found a telephone number in her letter box.
“Florence wants me to call,” she thought. “Wonder if she’s found out something important. I’ll have a cup of tea to get my nerves right. Then I’ll give her a ring.”
CHAPTER XIX
ONE WILD DREAM
Jeanne watched a blue and white airplane soar aloft over a lake of pure blue. Now the plane was two miles away, now one mile, and now—now it was right over her head. But what was this? A tiny speck appeared beneath the airplane. It grew and grew. Now it was the size of a walnut, now a baseball, now a toy balloon, now—but now it was right over her head! It had fallen from the plane. It was big, big as a small barrel. It would crush her!