“Why not take us, then?” demanded Al.
“No. I’m going to borrow Griff’s sport model. More speedy and I want to check before it is turned over to him finally.”
“There’d be room for one of us,” Bob spoke up.
“No sirree!” and they knew why Lang was so snappish.
Bob pushed back his chair as Al and Curt sprang up. Lang, rising with his superior, amused grin at their anxiety, waved them back and kissing his aunt and thanking her for the fish he loved, he departed.
“I’m going!” said Bob, and explained excitedly to his mother that he had information of importance.
“Lang will tell it,” she said. “Explain to him.”
Bob’s face fell, as did Al’s. They were in a box!
They could not explain to their mother that they suspected Lang, at the very least, of protecting Griff, a friend but not a desirable one. Whatever their own ideas they were none of them blabbers.
Bob ran out on the porch, leaped down the steps, hopped on his bicycle and pedaled down the first side street. He was not entirely sure of his plans, perhaps he half intended to secrete himself in the fuselage of the ’plane, to go on as an unsuspected passenger; possibly he hoped to induce Lang to take him by getting there first.