The first winged cohorts of the storm clouds had broken to shreds overhead. Its first fury was expended. From the North came the gathering furies of its second, and more terrible onslaught.
If Don could get that Dragonfly into the air and climb out of the turbulent area, he could get the pilot to some medical man; at the same time he might carry on that mail!—and send searchers to find Chick.
Much depended on the safe delivery of the pouch Garry had recovered. It was the first of what might be a successful series of ship-to-shore mail flights, from vast ocean greyhounds, in swift airplanes. Its successful delivery meant a great future for Don’s uncle who had started the idea with the inception of his new airport.
“Yes!” Don cried, bidding Garry help him to lift the pilot to his feet.
To get that tethered airplane, the Dragonfly, started, warmed up and aloft, carrying pilot and mail, was his immediate concern.
Ably Garry aided him.
Before the fury of the storm broke again, their storm-tossed wings cut the air, climbing swiftly through the darkness that seemed breathlessly waiting, still ominous, waiting—while Don flew his best.
Then, from the North, the storm furies leaped.
CHAPTER VI
“THE THING THAT NEVER WAS”
Stunned by the realization that the man who worked around the airport seemed to have betrayed those who trusted him, clinging to the roll of tracing paper that was his evidence of that betrayal, Chick faced Doc Morgan in the dark hovel until the next flash of celestial fire showed him a lantern standing on the small, rickety table at one side.