“It’s going to be bad.” He frowned. “The wind changed. She’s likely to be trapped.”
“Oh,” Jeanne stood first on one foot, then on the other. Whining low, Plumdum, sensing her troubles, brushed against her.
Of a sudden a bright idea took possession of the little French girl. “There’s a hydroplane tied up at the dock,” she exclaimed. “Where’s the pilot?”
“There are three of us that take a turn at it,” said the captain.
“Then—then,” she caught her breath. Jeanne had flown a great deal. She loved the air as a seaman loves the sea. “Why couldn’t we circle over them? We—we might find them a way out.”
“It’s an idea!” said the captain. “Come on!”
“What about Plumdum?” Jeanne asked.
“Take him along. We might want to throw him overboard just to let them know we’re interested,” the captain chuckled.
“No!” Jeanne was shocked.
“It’s an idea at that.” He was hurrying now. “Can he wriggle out of a harness?”