"Were you in the big smash-up too?" he asked. For answer the boys led him to the plane atop the ruined hut, and told him briefly what had happened. "Wriggling snakes! It's a wonder you weren't all squashed to a jelly," cried Cal. "You came within an ace of going into kingdom come, I'll tell the world!" Although the boy was eager to get his father away and under the doctor's care, Mr. Yates insisted that they should give him some description of the injuries to the plane. They looked over it carefully. "How about it?" called Mr. Yates. "Does it seem as though there were any use in salvaging it? Or is it ready for the junk heap?" "Of course it's pretty badly battered, but it looks to me as though it were worth repairing," stated Garry. "Sure thing, Dad," said Cal Yates airily. "With a new body, a couple of wings and a patch or two on the engine, the old boat ought to be almost as good as ever. And the mail bags are safe, all right. But you're the one to be salvaged first. Hold hard, and we'll have you in the car in a jiffy." So saying, he and Bill Sherwood crossed hands to form a seat, and the other boys helped the injured man into this improvised litter. But the journey to the road and the car was a slow and painful one. When finally Mr. Yates, pale-faced and grim-lipped, was placed in the seat beside his son, the latter turned to the boys. "Cram yourselves on the old bus some way," he said. "The place I'm staying is between here and the town, and I can give you a lift that far, anyway. I'll have to drive slowly on account of poor dad, so there won't be any danger of your getting jolted off. All ready? All right. Let's go!" With the boys on the running boards, Cal started the motor of his flashy car, swung it in the right direction, and drove carefully along the road toward town. On the way he kept up a running fire of light chatter, more, as the boys thought, to distract his father's attention from the pain he suffered than from a desire for conversation. "Had a sort of smash-up myself this morning," he volunteered. "A guy with sandy hair and the meanest eyes I ever saw ran into me full tilt and then had the nerve to say I did it. His name I found out is Sandy Podder. Know him?" "Do we?" chuckled Ted. "I'll say we do!" "Well, I was going along nice and easy--no more than fifty-five or sixty, I should say," resumed Cal, "when this guy came dashing around a curve of the road right at me. We both swerved and turned quickly so that only our mudguards were bent. But it was a close call, and I have it in for that Podder chap, believe me!" The Lenox boys exchanged glances. "Any time you need any help, let us know," Garry suggested, and Cal Yates laughed. "You're on," he said. "I only wish I'd had you along this morning for witnesses. I could prove that Podder was on the wrong side of the road anyway and make him pay for a new mudguard. As it is," gloomily, "it's only my word against his, and that wouldn't go far in a court of law."