“See anything, Garry? I don’t!”
“No, Don—and I’m sorry you backed the way you did. The helicopter is between us and the place I saw that fellow disappear——”
“But——”
From a point a hundred yards away came a hail
“Hello! You! Showing a light—who are you?”
“Don and Garry—Don McLeod at the helm of the airport crash boat, trying to catch the fellow who has been haunting the swamps and the air.”
“Don—Garry!” Chick’s shrill, excited voice floated to them. “It’s Chick and the control chief! We’re after an Ind——”
The sudden roar of the helicopter engine drowned the last syllable.
Don, reaching for the switch, with the other hand swung his spot beam but it would not swivel far enough to pick out the helicopter’s body.
“I hear somebody in the water!” gasped Garry, “Swing—forward, and swing, Don!”