“The boathouse!” he exclaimed. “Don—Garry! I saw the Man who Never Lived come up from under that boathouse. That’s where he stores all his real stuff—light, and film, and maybe another projector, complete! This one is just in case he is suspected—to mix up the trails!”
“I believe Chick has the right idea!” Garry conceded.
“So do I! Come on, Chick! We’ll ‘put on a show’ and clear up the airport mystery of the spectre in the clouds for once and all!”
Again the faithful Dart, with two youthful occupants, took to the air.
And someone, behind the screen at the wash basin in the designing room, smiled, waited until Garry left for the control room, and then strolled nonchalantly back to the cottage where he roomed, and went peacefully to his quarters.
“There won’t be any more need for the ghost,” remarked the quietly smiling person to his shaving mirror. “Tomorrow the boys will be busy getting out of this little experiment—the engineers won’t be working, and it ought to be easy to find the chest that must have been buried when the mud in Crab Channel sucked down the brigantine, Lady O’ Fortune.”
Don and Chick, in the Dart, drove on, full-gun, to help his prophecy come true.
CHAPTER XXII
DARING AND DISASTER
Careless of the attention they might attract, Don and Chick rode the low altitudes toward the sheet of water before the boathouse. Chick had a parachute flare ready.
Don signaled.