At the wharf the next afternoon she found Stubby awaiting her.

“Have to take me to the island,” he said without preliminary. “Brent must come to the airport!”

“Can’t you manage the plane without him?” Gale asked.

“No. Something is wrong. I can’t get the motor to hum right. Brent is the only one who knows enough about it.”

“But he said he didn’t want to go to the airport until the day of the races,” Gale said petulantly.

“If he doesn’t come now his plane won’t be in the races,” Stubby declared bluntly.

Gale sighed and stepped into Bruce’s boat. Stubby was a silent passenger all the way to the island.

Brent was not pleased at the news Stubby brought him. Finally he sighed and admitted it would be best if he did go to the airport to supervise personally the installation of the new motor.

“But not until tonight,” Brent said. “After dark perhaps Miss Howard will motor me across the bay. I’ll come then.”

“Of course I will,” Gale said. “If you are going to stay in Marchton you can live at my house, too,” she said breathlessly. “I already suggested it to my mother and she would like it too. You have no place else to go, please say you’ll come,” she pleaded.

“I’ll talk to your parents first,” he said.

As soon as it was dark that night Gale motored across the bay and returned with Brent Stockton for dinner at the Howard home. Later, when he declared his intention of going to the airport, Gale pleaded to go along. They were just leaving the yard when Bruce appeared.

“Hullo,” he said in surprise at the sight of Brent. “Where did you come from? I thought you were still on the Island?”

“No. I’m needed at the airport and I’m staying at Miss Howard’s home while I am in Marchton.”

“Going to the airport now?” Bruce asked. “May I come along?”

The three of them walked to the corner bus stop. The bus took them to within a square of the airport. The buildings, three in all, were dark, shrouded in black silence. A knock at the small door at the side of the private hangar where Brent stored his planes brought a crack which widened into a yawning black hole when Brent was recognized. The three of them stepped within and immediately the door was closed behind them.

Gale felt nervous. The mystery made her apprehensive. In the darkness she caught at a friendly hand. When a dim light flashed on she hastily disengaged her hand from Brent Stockton’s grasp, blushing furiously at the thought of what he must be imagining. She had no idea it had been his hand she was holding on to.

“Why all the secrecy?” Bruce demanded of Stubby who had opened the door.

“We’ve had other visitors tonight,” Stubby replied. “Not very welcome ones either.”

“Has someone been here again?” Brent Stockton demanded.

Stubby nodded. “The same one who tried to get the plans from this young fella.” He indicated Bruce and led the way past a huge nondescript shape, which Gale supposed to be the plane, but in the darkness could not discern clearly, into a small office. There he lounged against the wall while Brent eased himself into the chair before an untidy desk and Gale and Bruce sat on the radiator by the window.

“What did he do?” Brent asked; his voice was low, strained with anxiety. “Did he get to the motor at all?”

“That he did not!” Stubby said, bristling with indignation. “It’s my job to protect it and I did!”

“But what did he do?” Bruce pursued.

“Well, it was this way,” Stubby said, “along about seven o’clock I heard a funny scratching sound. I put out the light and went out to the door. He was fooling with the lock, trying to get in. I slipped back the bolt and jerked the door open, meaning to catch him. He ran, that’s all.”

Bruce and Brent were talking with Stubby about the strange man while Gale, her attention wandering, looked out the window. The moonlight illuminated the field as brightly as any searchlight. Suddenly she stiffened to attention. A skulking figure had just straightened up from the corner of the hangar. This hangar and office were built together much like the letter L, the office sticking out like the foot of the letter. From her position at the window Gale could clearly see the whole one side of the hangar. Now, watching the man in the shadows, her eyes fell to the white bit of something which he had left lying on the ground. Running swiftly the man disappeared off the left side of the field in the direction of the highway.

Gale, her actions unnoticed by the other three who were deep in conversation over a set of blue prints, slipped out the door into the blackness of the hangar. She stumbled over tools and walked into ropes as she found her way to the door. It took but a moment to slip back the bolt and step out into the moonlight.

Swiftly she ran to the corner of the hangar and picked up the white bundle she had seen. It was something hard wrapped in newspaper. She turned and took it back to the office, puzzling over the contents. Probably Brent would know what it was. Perhaps he had even instructed the man to leave it there. But it was strange, she told herself, the man had seemed so mysterious.

“I’m just hunting for trouble!” she scolded herself as she rebolted the hangar door behind her.

“What is that?” Bruce asked when she appeared.

She laid the package down on the desk in front of Brent. “I saw a man leave it by the corner of the hangar,” she replied.

Brent unrolled the newspaper and they all gasped.

“Yeow!” Bruce yelled. “It’s a bomb!”

Stubby grabbed the bomb and departed on a run, the others behind him. As fast as his short legs could carry him Stubby ran out along the edge of the flying field to where, at the end, a thick group of trees bordered the smooth landing space. When he thought he was a safe distance away from the hangar he deposited the bomb very gently on the ground and bolted back to the others. Silently, standing in the shadow of the hangar, the four of them watched and waited.

At last with a loud roar a shower of dirt rose high into the air.

“We might have been going up too if it hadn’t been for Gale,” Bruce said appreciatively.

Brent said nothing, he merely watched until the last film of earth had settled down into the hole where Stubby had placed the bomb.

Silently the four went back into the hangar. Brent pressed a switch and the whole hangar was flooded with light.

Gale and Bruce saw two low winged monoplanes standing side by side. On one the motor stood revealed, signs of Stubby’s work upon it still evident. Brent limped to the latter plane, a black and silver work of art, and laboriously climbed up to look at the motor.

“Has the other one got your motor, too?” Bruce asked, indicating the yellow plane standing to one side.

“No. I use that one to run about in while I work on this. I used to experiment with the one I cracked up, too,” Brent said.

“With all these things happening aren’t you afraid to put everything into that one motor?” Bruce pursued.

“What do you mean?” Brent turned to look down at him.

“Well, if the race means so much you should have a—duplicate of that motor,” Bruce said. “I’d put one in that plane, too, so if someone throws a monkey wrench into the works in that motor you still can fly with the other one.”

“It would take too long to perfect another one now,” Brent said.

“The one you cracked up had the new motor, didn’t it?” Gale asked.

Brent looked at her. “It did,” he agreed slowly, “and it wouldn’t take as long to repair that one as to construct a new one.”

“Could you install it in the yellow plane?” Bruce asked.

“We could do that,” Stubby said eagerly. “It’s a good idea, boss.”

“But how would you get it to the airport from the island?” Gale wanted to know.

They considered this thoughtfully; finally Bruce had a suggestion.

“David’s father has a light truck we could borrow to bring it from the wharf here,” he said. “And we could bring it across the bay by towing it with my boat. We could put the motor on a raft or something.”

“Let’s go,” Stubby said impatiently. “We ought to start on it at once.”

“But someone has to stay here,” Brent said slowly. “I think I had better. I wouldn’t be much help traveling back and forth with this lame ankle. Could you,” he asked Bruce, “get the other boys to help you?”

“Sure,” Bruce said at once. “We will go now. It won’t take so very long.”

“I’ll stay here and wait for you,” Gale proposed.

“Don’t you think you had better go home? Your parents will worry,” Brent Stockton said.

“They know where I am,” Gale said. “Besides, I want to wait and it isn’t late.”

Brent and Gale stood at the door of the hangar and watched until Bruce and Stubby had disappeared toward the highway where they were to take the bus back to town. When there was nothing in sight and not a sound to disturb the stillness the young man and the girl continued to stand there. The moonlight was like a path of silver straight down the runway of the landing field.

“When are you going to test your plane?” Gale asked, watching the slow circle made by the searchlight on top of another hangar.

“In a day or so,” the pilot answered.

“Take me up with you?” Gale asked shyly. “I’ve never been up in a plane.”

“It is thrilling,” Brent said, smiling. “Certainly I’ll take you up. The day before the race in the black and silver plane,” he added.

Gale felt immediately marvelously happy. To sail through the clouds like a bird—and with Brent Stockton! Gale leaned against the hangar and sighed. Dreamily she closed her eyes. It was a heavenly night. The cool wind stirred a wisp of curly hair against her cheek. The wooliness of her sports coat felt warm. Gone was all thought of school troubles. Gone even was the remembrance of the narrow escape they had all had from the consequences of the bomb.

But suddenly, quite suddenly, she was afraid. Of what she knew not. Nothing had happened. The moonlight was just as bright, the breeze just as cool and faintly scented. The searchlight still made its steady white circle. The stars shone with the same shimmering brightness. It was something intangible. It was as though, somehow, she had suddenly had a glimpse into the near future. A glimpse of something stark and tragic that was to happen.

Brent Stockton sensed rather than saw the quiver that ran through the girl. He looked down at her. Her head was on a level with his shoulder, her hands were deep in her pockets. Her eyes were fixed out across the landing field, her lips quivering.

“What is it?” he asked anxiously.

“I—I don’t know,” she managed to whisper faintly. “I have the strangest feeling that something is going to happen—something dreadful!”

“You are cold,” he said, a comforting arm instantly about her shoulders to quiet her trembling. “Come inside.”

She shook her head, leaning against him, grateful for his nearness and his understanding.

“No—it is something else. I know something is going to happen. I can feel it!” She turned dark eyes to him. “What can it be?” she whispered fearfully.

“There is nothing going to happen to you,” he said smiling. “Do not be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid for myself,” she said slowly, “but you—if anything should happen to you——” In confusion, she bowed her head on his shoulder and a sob escaped her.

His eyes were wide with amazement as he awkwardly patted her shoulder. A tender smile flitted across his face. He had never for one moment supposed that she—— How in the world should he deal with the situation?

“Gale,” he spoke gently, slowly, “have you ever been in love?” He felt her stiffen instantly and her head came up with a jerk.

“Why—what do you mean?” she asked faintly.

“Sit down,” he invited. Two boxes stood against the hangar wall and he seated himself beside her. “I am speaking this way because I don’t want you to make a mistake. Have you ever,” he spoke lightly, almost gayly, but Gale could grasp their hidden meaning, “have you ever thought about what the French call—ze grande passion?”

“Y-Yes, some,” Gale admitted.

“Will you tell me what you think it is—love, I mean?” he asked softly.

“Well,” she said with difficulty, “it is probably the biggest thing in our lives, isn’t it? I mean—did you ever read Elizabeth Browning? She says—‘I love thee with the breath, smiles, tears, of all my life!’ I always thought—maybe—I should love someone like that some day.” Gale was so thankful for the darkness here against the hangar. He couldn’t see how her cheeks were burning. Never, never, had she thought she would ever talk to anyone like this!

Brent Stockton thoughtfully brushed an imaginary bit of dust from his jacket sleeve. “You are right,” he said. “You should love someone like that. You are young and—quite lovely.” He grinned down at her. “There will be a great many boys in love with you, Gale.”

Gale felt herself blushing more furiously than ever. How could he talk like that? She laughed lightly.

“Positively,” he insisted. “But you are still in school. You want to make something of yourself. Remember that! You don’t want love until you are ready for it. You want to finish growing up first. You will find it worth while in the end.” He laughed. “I sound like Old Man Experience himself, but I can’t quite see how to make you understand.”

Gale was fast regaining her composure. “I believe,” she said forcing a laugh, “that you are in a very good-natured way warning me not to fall in love with you and not to mistake a silly school-girl crush for the real thing.”

He cleared his throat in embarrassment. “Ah, now you have taken offense. I’m sorry, Gale—I only meant the best, to make you——”

Gale stood up, pulling her coat closer about her. “I don’t think I shall wait for Bruce after all. I shall go home.”

“I will take you,” Brent said immediately.

“No, please! I’d rather you didn’t.” Her words rumbled out in a rush and she turned away to the road.

“Gale,” he called after her. “Wait!” He held out his hand and she put hers into it reluctantly. “You are sweet, Gale. We’re always friends, remember!”

“Good night,” she said thickly. When she walked to the bus stop there were tears in her eyes, tears of anger and self-reproach. How could she ever face him again? She had practically thrown herself at him! And the way he had talked to her——

In the darkness she stopped to wipe away a surreptitious tear and instantly came to attention. She had not yet quite reached the road. Here there were heavy trees on each side of her. From the trees on her right came the sound of voices, low, sinister voices. She recognized one of the voices as that of the man who had almost taken the plans from Bruce that night at the old spring house!