“What a story,” commented Tom.
“Let’s get going,” said Helen, and she started for the hotel.
They reached the rambling old hotel which overlooked the lake and were met at the door by Art Provost, the manager of the resort.
“Glad to see you down so early,” he said as he welcomed them.
“We thought we’d get here before the crowd,” Tom said, “but from the looks of the young mob down at the beach now they must have started coming in about sundown last night.”
“They did,” chuckled Mr. Provost. “Looks like the greatest celebration in the history of Lake Dubar. It’s the air circus that’s drawing them in and I hope there are no accidents.”
Helen glanced at Tom, warning her brother not to reply.
“I’ve met ‘Speed’ Rand,” she said, “and I think you’ll find him a careful flyer. I’m sure he’ll insist on every possible precaution.”
They went into the lobby of the hotel and Helen entered the telephone booth. She started to put in a long distance call for the Associated Press, then changed her mind and returned to where Tom and Margaret were waiting.
“I’m so nervous I’m afraid I won’t be able to talk,” she said. “Feel my hands.”