his chute, joined them. “Ready to go, Nellie?”
“Any time,” she replied. “Unless Cole wants to do a few more double takes.”
“I’m eager to be wafted aloft, pixie.”
A monoplane, a Lockheed Orion, was being warmed up out on the strip.
A dark, grease-smeared young man in coveralls came trotting over to them. “All set, Mr. Benson,” he said. “And good luck to you, Miss Gray.”
“You act like I’m going to solo the Atlantic, Bud,” said the girl.
Bud smiled and dropped behind the trio as they walked to the airship and climbed aboard.
“Want me to tell you the names of all the little instruments, Nell?” asked Cole when he was seated. “Or would that spoil the romance of flying for you?”
Nellie, in the pilot seat, began to check out her instrument panel. She was soon ready for take-off, and she signaled Bud to pull away the chocks.
“Off we go into the wild blue yonder,” murmured Cole as the ship taxied down the field, turned, and began to climb into the sky. “Can I open my eyes now?”
“Very smooth job, Nellie,” said the Avenger.
“Thanks, boss.”
Cole said, “Let me add my sincere congrats, princess. I was certain I’d be picking shreds of windsock out of my hair by this time.”
Benson leaned toward the window, watching the afternoon Sound below. “We should see Grimm’s Island fairly soon.”
“Cheerful sounding place,” remarked Cole. “Must spend two weeks there sometime.”
“You really think Wayne Harmon took Jeanne there?” asked Nellie.
“The odds seem pretty good,” Dick Benson replied, “considering what Pournelle and Gruber told us.”
“Okay, so he is there,” the girl said. “Seems to me he has to be pretty wacky to think he can gain anything by a fool stunt like this. So, I don’t see . . . I mean, he may do something crazy like hurting Jeanne.”
“There’s always that possibility, Nellie, in any kidnapping,” said the Avenger. “Just as there’s a chance he’s already killed her.”
“Yes, that’s occurred to me.”
“Seems unlikely,” Cole said. “Unless the lad is completely bonkers. After all, this isn’t your run-of-the-mill kidnapping. Friend Harmon isn’t going to ask us to leave X amount of dollars in a hollow log in the middle of Grand Central Terminal.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, princess, I think he grabbed Jeanne to use as a ticket. A one-way ticket out of the enormous mess he finds himself in,” explained Cole. “If Jeanne is dead, then someone is sure to find it out long before Harmon gets clear of this country and off to whatever utopia he has in mind.”
“Maybe so, but—”
“There’s the island,” said the Avenger.
Smitty rested on the oars for a minute. “Boy, this little disguise of ours is maybe too good,” he said. “We sure look like a couple of harmless guys out to have a picnic, but I wish we were doing it in a motorboat.”
Josh said, “Don’t fret, we’re almost there, Smitty. Want me to row awhile?”
“You’ve got a bum rib, remember? It ain’t that, anyhow. I’m not complaining about the rowing, I’m complaining about how slow we’re traveling.”
“More convincing,” said Josh, “in case Harmon happens to notice us.” The black man had on a forlorn-looking straw hat and a gaudy shirt.
Smitty was wearing overalls and a checked shirt, with a cloth cap on his head. “I wish Cole’d drawn this job. He looks better in disguises than me.”
“Keep hunkered down like you are, and nobody’s going to recognize you.” Josh began idly rummaging through the wicker picnic basket resting at his feet in the rowboat. “Nellie put this together too quick. Two packages of hot dog rolls and no hot dogs. Here’s something Cole must have added . . . a bottle of champagne.”
“Maybe we can launch a battleship.”
“Don’t tell me you’re unhappy because Cole got to ride in the airplane with Nellie instead of you?”
“Naw,” said the hunkered-down giant. He
“Any time,” she replied. “Unless Cole wants to do a few more double takes.”
“I’m eager to be wafted aloft, pixie.”
A monoplane, a Lockheed Orion, was being warmed up out on the strip.
A dark, grease-smeared young man in coveralls came trotting over to them. “All set, Mr. Benson,” he said. “And good luck to you, Miss Gray.”
“You act like I’m going to solo the Atlantic, Bud,” said the girl.
Bud smiled and dropped behind the trio as they walked to the airship and climbed aboard.
“Want me to tell you the names of all the little instruments, Nell?” asked Cole when he was seated. “Or would that spoil the romance of flying for you?”
Nellie, in the pilot seat, began to check out her instrument panel. She was soon ready for take-off, and she signaled Bud to pull away the chocks.
“Off we go into the wild blue yonder,” murmured Cole as the ship taxied down the field, turned, and began to climb into the sky. “Can I open my eyes now?”
“Very smooth job, Nellie,” said the Avenger.
“Thanks, boss.”
Cole said, “Let me add my sincere congrats, princess. I was certain I’d be picking shreds of windsock out of my hair by this time.”
Benson leaned toward the window, watching the afternoon Sound below. “We should see Grimm’s Island fairly soon.”
“Cheerful sounding place,” remarked Cole. “Must spend two weeks there sometime.”
“You really think Wayne Harmon took Jeanne there?” asked Nellie.
“The odds seem pretty good,” Dick Benson replied, “considering what Pournelle and Gruber told us.”
“Okay, so he is there,” the girl said. “Seems to me he has to be pretty wacky to think he can gain anything by a fool stunt like this. So, I don’t see . . . I mean, he may do something crazy like hurting Jeanne.”
“There’s always that possibility, Nellie, in any kidnapping,” said the Avenger. “Just as there’s a chance he’s already killed her.”
“Yes, that’s occurred to me.”
“Seems unlikely,” Cole said. “Unless the lad is completely bonkers. After all, this isn’t your run-of-the-mill kidnapping. Friend Harmon isn’t going to ask us to leave X amount of dollars in a hollow log in the middle of Grand Central Terminal.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, princess, I think he grabbed Jeanne to use as a ticket. A one-way ticket out of the enormous mess he finds himself in,” explained Cole. “If Jeanne is dead, then someone is sure to find it out long before Harmon gets clear of this country and off to whatever utopia he has in mind.”
“Maybe so, but—”
“There’s the island,” said the Avenger.
Smitty rested on the oars for a minute. “Boy, this little disguise of ours is maybe too good,” he said. “We sure look like a couple of harmless guys out to have a picnic, but I wish we were doing it in a motorboat.”
Josh said, “Don’t fret, we’re almost there, Smitty. Want me to row awhile?”
“You’ve got a bum rib, remember? It ain’t that, anyhow. I’m not complaining about the rowing, I’m complaining about how slow we’re traveling.”
“More convincing,” said Josh, “in case Harmon happens to notice us.” The black man had on a forlorn-looking straw hat and a gaudy shirt.
Smitty was wearing overalls and a checked shirt, with a cloth cap on his head. “I wish Cole’d drawn this job. He looks better in disguises than me.”
“Keep hunkered down like you are, and nobody’s going to recognize you.” Josh began idly rummaging through the wicker picnic basket resting at his feet in the rowboat. “Nellie put this together too quick. Two packages of hot dog rolls and no hot dogs. Here’s something Cole must have added . . . a bottle of champagne.”
“Maybe we can launch a battleship.”
“Don’t tell me you’re unhappy because Cole got to ride in the airplane with Nellie instead of you?”
“Naw,” said the hunkered-down giant. He
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