“That ‘six-B slotted bolt’ makes me think his engine hasn’t anything wrong with it at all,” Larry stated, finally. “Furthermore, I think he put down his crate in some handy—good—spot!”
“A crackerjack pilot like Jeff could get in on a pretty small field,” Larry argued. “One place I can think of that isn’t a bad landing spot is the fairway of the ninth hole on that golf course yonder.” He indicated the grounds of a golf club. “It’s away from everything, and he might fly over the course, see that no foursome or twosome was likely to get there for some time—” Dick nodded, agreeing; but Sandy shook his head.
“What bothers me,” he stated, “is that if his engine is all right, Mr. Whiteside would have met him and gone in Jeff’s ship.”
“Unless—unless they wanted to make a water landing!”
“Golly-gracious, Dick! I think you’ve found the reason——”
“But, Larry—why wouldn’t they use the hydroplane boat?” Sandy was not convinced.
“I think the amphibian would be quicker—and maybe they don’t want to land but need the pontoons in case of——”
Dick, laying a hand on Larry’s arm, stopped him.
“I have guessed the answer,” he cried. “They wanted to get rid of this gentleman,” he nodded toward the caretaker. “Then they could search that hangar——”
But they, themselves, had done that thoroughly! Larry made the objection but Dick waved a hand to dismiss it.