“So that’s how the queer searchlight came into our eyes!” snapped Chick. “You know what sort of crime that is? Endangering flyers!”
“We thought you were the mail ’plane,” John said regretfully. “Just as I thought you were the culprit trying to get away just now when I used the Dart to drive you down. But—I’m sorry.”
“You’d better be sorry you’ve accused me, too!” stormed Doc Morgan.
“Yes,” Scott agreed, “I’m not sure that isn’t all made up! What were you doing at the airport, just before the film was stolen from our young friends? I saw you—running!”
Chick sprang up.
“It doesn’t matter!” he cried. “Let’s stop accusing—and find out! The pieces we saved are about washed by now. Come on—Don-Garry!”
CHAPTER XXIX
CLUES IN CAMOUFLAGE
Smelling still of the fumes from the smoke flare, which someone—Doc Morgan probably—had cleared out, the dark room was close and unpleasant as Chick closed its door and, switching on the white printing lamp, faced his two friends.
“Let’s be very quiet,” he said, earnestly. “I was only half listening to the arguments. While they went on I thought of a way to draw the real ‘Ghost of Mystery Airport’ into the open—or—into the darkroom!”
“I don’t understand,” Garry spoke softly, although the door was tight.