“Great. I’d like to see Hank. Last time I saw him he was in an English hospital, eating porridge and not liking it at all. Who would have thought that the old skinny marink would have put on all that poundage? Old Hank fat! And flying in a cabin plane. Come on, fellows, we’ve got to go down there and see him.” He turned to Headlund. “I’m going to be in town all summer, Heady, and I guess you’ll be seeing plenty of me. What street did you say? Avenue B?” Captain Bill and the boys hurried out, found the right road, and walked along it until they came to the last hangar. A beautiful plane, black and aluminum, stood outside. But as they approached, there was nobody to be seen. “Ahoy, there!” shouted Bill. “Anybody here know Hank Brown?” Hank himself appeared from the other side of the plane, where he had been conferring with a mechanic. “I’m Henry Brown,” he said, peering from behind gold-rimmed glasses at Bill and the boys. His face registered no sign of recognition at first. Then suddenly it lighted up, he rushed forward, and gripped Captain Bill’s hand in his, slapping him heartily on the back with the other. “Well, Bill! You old sock! Where on earth did you come from? What are you doing here? Where have you been?” Bill, delighted to see his old buddy, laughed at him, and poked him in his now well-padded ribs. “One question at a time, Hank. What are you doing here? And how come you’ve got this grand ship?” asked Bill. “I asked you first,” laughed Hank. They spent the next ten minutes telling each other just what they had been doing since their last meeting. They spared the details, but each was satisfied with the other’s story. Hank had done well as the manager and later as president of his father’s steel plant. Prosperity had ironed out the wrinkles that had always twinkled around his steely grey eyes, and contentment had added inches to his waistline, but he was still the same generous, fun-loving Hank that the boys had known in France. “Listen,” said Hank. “Come on in and try the plane. See how comfortable it is. Say, this is some different from the old rattletraps we used to fly, isn’t it?” “But we had some good thrills in them, didn’t we,” said Bill. This meeting with Hank was bringing back memories that had not stirred in him for many years. “Let’s get in here where we can talk in comfort,” said Hank. They mounted a little step that the mechanic set for them, and entered the side door of the plane. The inside was amazingly luxurious. Along both sides were upholstered seats, covered with multi-colored cushions. There were built-in fixtures, and everything to make for the greatest ease in traveling. The pilot’s seat could be partitioned off by a glass sliding door up front. The three men sat down on the seats at the side of the cabin. “Gee, they’re soft,” said Bob. “I could ride all day on these.” He jumped up and down a little. “Remember your manners,” said Bill.