“I see. Well, ye look honest enough, an’ old Asa Pike ain’t one to be taken in.
Tell ye what. There’s no place for strangers to eat around here, so come up to my house for some victuals. I might have somethin’ to tell ye.”
The boys thanked him and followed readily. In a few minutes they reached a shack in a pine grove. Asa Pike led them into his kitchen. A savory lobster stew was simmering on a kerosene stove.
Ten minutes later the boys were feasting on the best sea food they had ever tasted. Tom led the conversation to the topic of Arthur Gray by asking casually: “Do many people fly seaplanes in here?”
“Mr. Gray done a lot of seaplane flyin’.”
“Did he ever fly this type?” Tom asked, taking from his pocket a small photograph of the aluminum seaplane.
“That’s exactly the kind!” Asa Pike exclaimed. “Land sakes! There was three o’ them here about two weeks ago.”
“Where are they now?” Bud queried.
“Can’t rightly say,” Pike replied. “They was flown THE FIRST TEST 33
away from here by three fellers who gave me the jitters.”
“Why?”
“Well, they’d been stayin’ in the big house off an’ on for a couple of days at a stretch while Mr. Gray was away. They only seemed to come here lookin’ for mail. An’ when it didn’t come, they near to had a fit.”
Tom asked Pike to describe the men. The first two were blond and he had never heard their names. But when he described the third man, whose name was Ed Johnson, the boys sat up and took notice. He was certainly the pilot who had stolen the plane and the flying credentials of Edward Gates.
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