“Good enough.”
“Why?” asked Garry.
Don had not loosened the chin strap of his helmet. He clambered hastily out of his cockpit, onto a wing, to the earth.
“Who’ll go with me?” he cried, as Garry and Chick came tumbling out of their places. “Garry—Chick! Which one?”
“Where? For what?” asked Garry.
“Back to the swamp—to find that Thing and make sure that it never molests any more pilots.”
“I will!” cried Chick.
“I will!” Garry’s words were shouted in the same instant.
“No! Only one can go in the two-place Dart!” said Don. “She’s all fueled up for the flight, you know, but there aren’t three places.” “But—” began Chick.
“I need one of you for ground work,” Don cried. “I have a plan! Two of us go aloft, fly back to the swamp. Maybe we can get there before the Thing has a chance to set down. Maybe we can fly around until we locate it. But somebody has to stay here in the control tower!”