Then he saw it. They began to drop swiftly, coming ever closer to the field. And then they set down, safe and unmolested.
Before the chums were clear of the runway, Tommy set down his ship, tumbled out and let the woman with him—the yacht stewardess—get out as best she could. “What do you mean, double-crossing me?” screamed Tommy at detective Whiteside. “Why have you tried to get the emeralds after you promised me half of them?”
“The man has gone crazy,” said Whiteside.
“They are all in it together, Mr. Everdail,” Tommy shouted, turning toward the millionaire.
“What are you doing with that stewardess?” demanded Larry. “She joined you on the lawn when you came from behind the trees.”
“Be still,” cried Everdail. “We can thresh it out later. Right now let’s get those emeralds.”
Larry produced a knife, and Mr. Everdail slashed the life preserver to ribbons.
There was a gasp. The life preserver was empty.
Then everyone began to talk at once, as accusations flew back and forth.
“Boss, I want you to take a look at this-here stuff I brought from your house,” said Jeff, drawing a parcel from his pocket.