Dick nodded and passed the report to Sandy.
Sandy did not smile. Instead, as they swung, he scanned the sky. That was not his instructions, but it was his determined plan.
“I’ll see the amphibian Jeff was working on, nights,” he mused. “It ought to be in sight now——”
Convinced that both the hydroplane and the yacht would have located the spot on the sea where they would meet, Jeff broke the tedium of his tight circle by a reverse of controls, banking to the other side and swinging in a climbing spiral to the right.
Closer and closer together came the swift turbine propelled yacht and the surface-skimming hydroplane.
“I was right!” shouted Sandy, unheard but triumphant—and also a little startled that he had so closely guessed what would happen.
He swung his head, signaled Dick, waved an arm, pointing. Dick and Larry stared, while Sandy poked Jeff and repeated his gestures.
On the horizon, coming at moderate speed, but growing large enough so that there could be no error of identification, came the amphibian. Its dun color and its tail marking were unmistakable.
“The amphibian!” cried Larry. “I wonder why——”
“I wonder who’s in it?” Dick mused as Jeff cut the gun and went into a glide, the better to get a look at the oncoming craft low over the seashore.