“I thought you wanted to be a Master Sleuth, last year,” remarked Curt. “Use your eyes and your brains.”
“Um-m-m—the airplane must be gone a long time because the wind was West and now it’s South—um-m-m. Oh!”
“‘Ah-ha!’ cried Shawkhaw,” Bob mocked, twisting the famous Hawkshaw title as he made fun of his brother.
“This turf runs East and West.” Al ignored Bob’s mockery. “That biplane was a speed model and it would have to get up higher speed than the average to take off. The runway is too short to give it a good run, so it couldn’t very well have hopped off in time to get over the trees unless it took full advantage of the wind! Isn’t that it, Bob?”
“That’s it. The wind changed about the time we left our meeting point with Curt. So that airplane ought to be well on its way, wherever its way leads.”
“But this engine is getting louder,” stated Curt.
“There it is!” cried Al, pointing toward the South. “It’s only a speck. But you see it, don’t you, Curt?”
“Yes.”
“So do I,” added Bob.
“It looks as if it is spiraling down—yes, it is!”