“Keep your heads, boys,” counseled Mr. Whiteside.

“We will—but come on—Jeff’s making for the amphibian¹—let’s——”

“Sandy went back to guard it,” Dick told Larry who had spoken.

“Not alone is Sandy on watch, but I arranged to have Tommy Larsen bring his airplane to the golf green Jeff used this afternoon,” Mr. Whiteside told them, as he walked, recovering breath, toward the hangar door.

“Tommy is to keep his engine warm, idling, and to be ready, at the first sign of escape, to take the air and overtake Jeff,” he added.

“But maybe Sandy might get into trouble,” urged Larry. “He’d fight to stop Jeff, and that man is in a dangerous mood if he’d do what he has done.”

“It will do no harm to go over,” agreed Mr. Whiteside, slamming the door behind them. “It’s shorter down along the water.”
256

At a jog trot³ they went down the slope and at the wharf⁴ Dick gave a cry of surprise.

“There’s the motor boat—drifting just off the dock!”

“Then that woman—Mimi—came back to rejoin Jeff!” argued Larry, and broke into a run. “Come on, fellows!”

Down the wharf path they ran, turning into the shell-powder path that skirted the inlet on the far side of which the amphibian lay moored⁵.

“Sandy will stop them,” panted Dick, a little to the rear because of his weight. Larry called, over his shoulder, that with two to give battle to, Sandy might need them before they could arrive.

“There’s somebody—on the lawn!” cried Dick, swinging off in that direction. From behind a large tree emerged a figure. Larry and the detective followed at a run. But the man who came quickly forward to meet them gave all three a surprise.

“Tommy!” Larry recognized the pilot.

“Larsen, why aren’t you by your airplane?” demanded Mr. Whiteside.

“I came over to report and get instructions, sir.”

“Why, I gave——”
257

“Something new has come up, sir. I was waiting there by my ship a good while back, and I heard another one cruising and spiraling, shooting the field, I guess, because he came in and set down. My

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