“I’ll do the very best I know how, you may be sure. I promise you that I’ll bring him back just as carefully as I take him away. I can’t say more than that.”
“No, indeed. Now where is that Herald? Here is it.”
The lady picked up a newspaper from the floor and began to search its columns for a particular item; but before she had found what she wanted the doctor entered the room. He wore a fur cap and carried a fur coat on his arm; in one hand was a professional bag and in the other a can of gasoline. The lady folded the paper small and stuffed it into one of his pockets.
“Take it with you,” she said. “It should bring you luck on the journey.”
He set his burdens on the floor and embraced her.
“Don’t expect me back till you hear us coming,” he said. “And don’t worry, Dickon. If I had the pick of the whole Air Force for this trip I’d pick the major.”
He took up his burdens and left the room, joining Tom in front of the house. Tom led the way at a sharp pace to where the aëroplane lay in a secluded clearing about two miles from the outskirts of the town. The doctor had picked up a slight knowledge of air-craft during his service in the army, so together they filled the petrol-tank and went thoroughly over the machine. The result of the inspection was satisfactory. Then Tom stowed the doctor and his bag aboard and donned his cap and goggles.
It was exactly three o’clock when the old bus took wing and flew straight away into the south.
Mick Otter was the first of the family to catch the song of the homeward flight. He was out in the wood-yard at the time, splitting up an old cedar rail for kindlings. He dropped his ax and cocked his head. He scanned the clear horizon and the blue vault above it, blinking his eyes when he faced the west. At last he spotted it, and it looked no bigger than a mosquito. It grew steadily in his vision and yet did not seem to move; grew to the size of a snipe—continued to grow, hanging there against the sky, until it looked like a lonely duck homing to its feeding-grounds. And the sound of its flight grew too, droning in from all round the horizon. Little Blackie heard it then and crawled apologetically under the back porch.
