“What kind of mail came here for these men?” Bud asked the caretaker.
“Some from New York, some from European cities,” Asa replied. “Always air mail an’ registered.”
Tom asked the old man if he did not think it strange for such people to be in Hankton when apparently they had no interest in vacationing at the spot.
“Yes, I did,” Asa Pike admitted. “But down here we figger on mindin’ our own business. He pays me reg’lar for lookin’ after his place, an’ I can’t prove he’s done anythin’ he shouldn’t.”
While Tom finished a second helping of the tasty stew, he came to a decision. He would take Asa Pike into his confidence.
“You’re a loyal American,” he said with a smile. “Bud here and I feel sure that Gray and Johnson and
34 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
their friends are up to something underhanded, possibly to do with a big project Uncle Sam is interested in. How would you like to help find out?”
Asa Pike’s eyes bulged. “Me!” he exclaimed. “Ye a-deputizin’ me, ye mean?”
“Oh, you don’t have to unless you want to,” Tom told him quickly.
“Ketch me sayin’ no,” the caretaker said. “Anythin” to help Uncle Sam. Jest wait until I tell-”
“You must keep this under your hat,” Tom cautioned him. “And now, can you think of anything else about the letters that might help us?” he asked.
Asa thought a moment. “The ones that wasn’t addressed to Mr. Gray bore the name Marvin Hein,” he recalled. “I guess that’s all.”
“Do you know which direction their seaplanes flew when they left here?” Tom queried, making a mental note of Hein’s name.
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