“Are we safe now?” asked David, looking back to where the shrunken figures of the battleplanes were ranged behind us on the horizon.
“Safe long ago,” said Jones. “But it was touch-and-go while I was trying to top that southeaster. He lost us at the summit, though, and he couldn’t have caught us on that down-grade.”
We started again, traveling more slowly, at a lower altitude, and planing downward until I heard the wind in the tree boughs and saw the glistening snow beneath. We brushed the top-most twigs. The scoutplane flitted backward and forward, seeking the old road.
“I ought to know it in the dark,” said Jones. “I don’t want to turn on the searchlight if I can help it.”
To and fro we went like a fluttering bird, until the cleft of the road appeared among the trees. Then we dropped softly to the ground. I was almost too cramped and cold to move. With difficulty I descended and helped Elizabeth out. David followed, and we three stood chafing our hands and stamping until the circulation was restored.
Jones leaned forward from the airplane. “I’ll run her into the trees in case anyone comes along and sees her,” he said.
“We shall not see you until—?” asked David.
“I’m not going back,” answered the airscout. “Not after this night’s work. You’ll see me in ten minutes.”
“You are going to join us?” inquired David, joyfully. “Is it—do you mean Hancock knew you?”
“No. That wasn’t Hancock, either. I know who it was—at least, I think I know. No, I’ve had enough of the Twin Bosses, after Elizabeth’s adventures. Put me down as the first airscout who went over.”