“And has clever friends,” Tom said. “This whole deal was planned. They expected Gates to lose his plane, so they arranged for him to be picked up by the seaplane. All this must mean that he’s an impostor and doesn’t fly for the Cincinnati company at all.”
“You mean he stole the plane?” Billing asked.
“Yes,” Tom replied. “He probably slugged the real Gates and took his credentials.”
The radio operator’s fists knotted with anger.
“We’ll get him!” he declared. “I’ll radio the mainland police, the Coast Guard, and the Air Patrol immediately. Our men are towing the boat in now.”
At Bud’s insistence Tom went to his quarters. But he was not allowed to tumble into bed at once. Chow, who always seemed to have the right kind of food on hand, brought piping hot hamburgers and milk to the boys’ room before they were even undressed. The cook insisted upon hearing the story of the night’s adventures while they ate.
FOLLOWING A CLUE 23
“Well, brand that sneakin’ varmint!” Chow exclaimed. “Things are gettin*
pretty bad when livin’ ain’t safe even way out on a desert island in the Atlantic.
Nary a critter to bother you. Nothin’ but sand an* water, an’ then coyotes like that hombre have to come slinkin’ in here!”
Chow said good night and clumped off to his own room next to the kitchen.
The next morning, when Bud asked Tom what he was going to work on that day, the young inventor said that his first job would be to find out if the pilot who called himself Gates had been traced. Several calls to nearby seaplane bases yielded no information as to where Gates’ rescue plane had landed.