"Nope. Don't drive it any more than I have to. When do you want it?" "About eight, if that's all right." "Okay. I'll drop it off at the dock. Don't bother bringing it back. Just let me know where it is so I can tell the insurance company." "I'm a safe driver, Gus," Rick said with a grin. "If I believed that I wouldn't lend you the car. Leave it in my back yard when you get through, huh?" "Thanks a million, Gus. I'll take good care of it." "Don't. You'll spoil it." Rick rang off. "What time is it?" "About half past three," Scotty said. "Why?" "Let's take the Cub up for a little spin." Scotty chuckled. "You're never as happy as when you're trying to unravel a mystery. Any mystery." "You don't like it," Rick scoffed. "You like a peaceful, quiet life. A book and a hammock. That's for you. Why don't you go get one of your Oat Operas to read and leave the mystery to me?" "Got to keep you out of trouble," Scotty said amiably. "It isn't because I'm interested." They walked from the house into the orchard that separated the low, gray stone laboratory buildings from the house and headed toward the air strip. The strip was grass-covered and just big enough for a small plane like Rick's. It ran along the seaward side of the island, with the orchard on one side and the sea cliff on the other. "Just thought," Scotty said suddenly. "We'd better have some binoculars if we're going out to take a look at the fleet." "I'll warm up while you get them," Rick agreed. He started the engine and warmed the plane until Scotty arrived with a pair of ten-power binoculars. Scotty untied the parking ropes and pulled out the wheel chocks, then got into his seat. "Let's go," he said. Rick nodded and advanced the throttle. In a moment the Cub lifted easily from the grass. Rick settled down to the business of flying. He looked at the sea below and estimated the wind force. Mentally he figured his probable drift, then decided on south-southeast as his compass heading, and swung the little plane on course. "Checked the equipment recently?" Scotty asked. He referred to the two-man life raft and signaling pistol Rick had purchased from Navy surplus for just such overwater flights as this. "Went through it Saturday," Rick said. "But don't worry. We won't get your feet wet." "You hadn't better," Scotty retorted. "These are new shoes I have on." He paused. "What do you think about that warning?" They had discussed it thoroughly on the way home from Seaford, examining all possibilities. "I haven't changed my mind," Rick said. "I think it was Carrots Kelso." He reasoned that Red Kelso, the boy's father, had too much sense to try warning them away. The only purpose the warning would serve would be to arouse their curiosity even more--which it had certainly done. "That Carrots is a queer one," Scotty said. He had to raise his voice slightly because of the engine's drone. "Did you notice the rifle he carried?" "And how! It looked like a .30-30." "It wasn't."