He nodded, without looking at me.
"Her in wax. What a scheme; what a scheme!"
"Radio control," I added, needlessly. Of course he had made out all that I had.
"Somebody made a neat change of cars," he replied, and gave his particular attention to the three blue monoplanes.
They rested in a row upon a bit of beach a hundred yards away on our right, which was to the east. No one attended them; no one stood by on the beach. The cockpits of the three were equally empty.
"They've taken out the dummy," said Pete.
Beyond the beach rose a rank of trim white painted hangars for housing a dozen machines. To the right was a run of lawn leading to the green sward which I had seen from the air and which was broad and flat enough for a landing field. Further back, the ground sloped and there was a large, square-sided, practical-looking building, with many windows, which might be a workshop. Back of this were trees and a hill.
Trees and hills ringed the ellipse of the lake
