himself and one for Legs; thrust into his belt the pistol which he had official license to carry; bounded from the house, and called up to Turner to know if he could squeeze anything more out of the wireless.
"Not a buzz," cried the man aloft. "Not a sizzle."
"Then come on down and help us with the plane."
As the three were jog-trotting along towards the hangar, the Tarheel prudently raised some sharp objections to Hardy's plan for the boy, but, with the assurance that the passenger was to be dropped at Knott's Island, he subsided.
Fifteen minutes later, the bird had started on its journey.
"Gee! they'll be sore," thought the rising Legs with great elation, as he waved down upon his belated companions, who came running across the sand. "This is where I score." And, snuggling in his coat, began to goggle the surrounding sky and the sea beneath with more self-possession and courage than he had on his initiation.
Over the lighthouse rose Windjammer and, at
