Jimmy throttled down his engine to let it idle for a few minutes so the valves could cool before he “cut his switch.” He stepped to the ground. The little company of spectators surged toward him. “Can any one of you tell me——” began Jimmy. Then he stopped short and gazed at one of the group in silent astonishment. “Well, where in the world did you come from, Johnnie Lee?” he demanded, after a moment. And he stepped quickly toward a sturdy lad who stood somewhat behind the other spectators. “I haven’t seen you for ages—not since I left home to learn to fly, in fact.” “Jimmy!” cried the lad, rushing forward with outstretched hand. “I didn’t know you at first, with your helmet on. I’m awfully glad to see you.” And he fairly wrung Jimmy’s hand. “What are you doing here?” demanded Jimmy, when they had finished shaking hands. “I might ask you the same question,” laughed Johnnie. “I am here because I can’t very well help it. My father’s health broke down, and the doctor said he would have to get into the country. We have relatives close by named Healy. So Dad bought a little farm here. I’ve been at home, doing most of the farming. You are the first member of the old Wireless Patrol I have seen since we moved down here. My! It’s been tough to be separated from all the gang. I think of the old days often, and of the fine times we used to have when we were in camp at Fort Brady.” “They were good old days, weren’t they, Johnnie?” said Jimmy. “How the old crowd has gotten separated. There’s Alec Cunningham down in New Jersey in the oyster business, and Roy Mercer a wireless operator on an ocean steamer, and Bob Martin in the Lighthouse Service, and Henry Harper in the Coast Guard. My, it doesn’t seem possible that the old crowd could be scattered so. Can you tell me about any of the other fellows of the Wireless Patrol?” “I can tell you a whole lot about Jimmy Donnelly,” laughed Johnnie. “How’s that?” demanded Jimmy. “What do you know about me and how did you find it out?” “You don’t think anybody could have all the adventures you have had, finding lost air mail pilots and rounding up robbers and not have people know about it, do you? Why, I read about those things in the newspaper.” “That reminds me,” said Jimmy, “that I am here now for the _Morning Press_, to get more details about Warren Long’s parachute jump last night. You can’t tell me anything about it, can you?” “I certainly can,” said Johnnie, “for I saw the whole thing happen, and the pilot landed right on our farm and I helped him get back to his burning ship to try to save some of the mail.” “Well, if that isn’t luck,” said Jimmy. “Take me to the burned plane, will you, and tell me what you know about the affair.” “All right. Come along,” and Johnnie led the way toward a clearing on the slope of a hill at some little distance. The way was rough, for they had to pass over some stony fields and through a patch of timber. They had ample time to talk as they walked.