Ted did not hear them, but someone else, vastly excited, did. “Got ’em!” Stew, on the island, tinkering with the Jap radio, cranked furiously as he murmured. “Now if only I can make them hear me. “Kentuck—Kentucky!” he called into the small mike. “This is Stew. Do you get me? Stew. Come in!” Kentucky did not come in. He kept right on with what he was doing. Stew could hear the three of them talking, heard Red say, “I think I see a light off to the right.” “You sure?” was Kentucky’s excited answer. “Don’t lose it. That may be Ted.” “It’s sure to be Ted,” Blackie broke in. “Don’t lose it.” Just then Stew’s Jap radio took on a sudden burst of power to break through space and fall on Kentucky’s ears: “Kentuck! This is Stew! Come in, Kentucky!” Kentucky heard, and sat up quickly. “Stew! Where are you?” Kentucky came back in a steady drawl. “Where’s Jack?” “We—well, you might say we’re back in the old home town.” Stew made up a code as he went along. He didn’t want those fellows on the jet plane to understand, nor some prowling Japs, either. “Remember those three houses? Do you get me?” “Maybe I do,” Kentucky growled. “Continue.” “Well, I live in the biggest house—the middle one—three stories—get me?” “I get you.” Kentucky thought he understood that Stew was talking of three islands. “Jack is with me,” Stew went on. “Our room is in the southwest corner. See?” “I get you,” Kentucky came back again. “All okay?” “Yes. Only we miss our boat. We—” Just then Stew heard Blackie break in. “Kentucky, there is a light. Must be Ted. I’m putting on my landing lights. Going down.” “We’ll be right over you,” Kentucky assured him. Stew understood it all, and was silent, even at a time when he wanted terribly to talk. And so, as he listened, the minutes ticked themselves away, and once again his radio went dead. Far away, Kentucky was thinking, “I wish Stew had talked straight. I think he meant he was on the biggest of those three islands, and on this end of it. But how’s a fellow to be sure?” CHAPTER XVIII LUCK, PALS, AND PROVIDENCE Scarcely had Jack seated himself beside the slim girl in the shadows away from the campfire when she whispered: “I hoped you’d come. I have something tremendously important to show you. First you must play for these people, for they love it.” At that she clapped her hands and at the same time gave a sharp exclamation. Some native word, thought Jack. He was startled by this sudden turn of affairs. The natives were on their feet in an instant. Three brown warriors, doubtless misunderstanding the call, seized their spears. Like figures done in bronze, with the firelight playing on their dark faces, these three stood there, silent and alert, ready for action, as the girl said a few words to them in their own language. Then the men relaxed and a low murmur ran round the campfire. “Play now!” the girl commanded, turning to Jack.