The second one he exhibited was more clear.
“That’s the swamp, all right,” Garry commented. “The first one is one of the smoked-up parts we threw away after the first trial. But this one is the swamp, and no mistake. That is,” he corrected himself, “it’s a section of it, along the water front. See how the shore curves in and out—and the beginnings of Crab Channel and the other smaller inlets?”
Chick and Don assented; but the pictures gave them nothing new to go by, more than assurance that somebody had flown over the swamps to take air films. Of course, as Chick argued, that fitted in with the idea that the mysterious “somebody” had put the projector head and the other things into a locker of the pilots’ quarters as a means to throwing suspicion on another, as the key in the control chief’s old coat and vest proved. The film with it was not the same as that used for the apparition in the cloud. It was only a “blind,” as Chick argued.
Also, as Don added, the film could have been taken by the control chief as well as by another, except that he was seldom away daytimes.
“But Doc Morgan is,” Garry remarked. “And Toby Tew is in and around the swamps all Summer, and could easily hire some pilot from another airport to fly him—nobody would have paid much attention, because the engineers were using airplanes, too. And I think it was to stop the engineers from draining the swamp before he had taken the treasure that our ‘ghost’ worked his spectre-in-the-clouds!” he added.
“Sh-h-h-h!” Chick caught each by an arm. “Listen!”
Footsteps sounded on the floor outside, approaching. Were they hesitating? Did they echo with such caution because they belonged to a guilty body? Slowly they came closer.
There was a knock on the door.
“When I open the door—grab him!” Chick urged.
He waited. A hand tested the door knob. The door rattled a little.