I was at this time a pilot in the International Mail Service, flying a local plane from Boston up the coast to St. John, daytimes. Up one day with several stops along the route; and back the next day; and then a day off duty. Drake had become father's assistant. They had a laboratory in New York City, and were living now in our Westchester home. Our home on the Maine shore was closed for the winter. Once a week I went to New York to be with father and Drake. I got there the day the giant was reported. It was of particular interest to me, since it was not far from my flying route. Father said, "You keep your eyes open, Frank. And look here, if you see anything--don't report it at once. Telephone me." He was so solemn that I laughed. And Drake was solemn, too. I demanded, "I say, you two--you don't believe this fool thing, do you?" "Perhaps," said Drake. I think that even then they had some vague idea of what it might mean. I thought the yarn was absurd; still less could I have imagined our own connection with it. Never once did I link it with Dianne. It was nearly five years now since that day she had vanished. I made my next northward flight with no sign of a giant. Nor did I see anything unusual upon the return. In a few days more, like the rest of the world, I had lost interest. Then one day near the end of March when I was off duty in Boston, another giant was reported. It had been seen the preceding night. A giant man--fifty feet tall, or three hundred, according to the differing, confused versions. The figure had appeared in the ocean, possibly near the mouth of the Penobscot River in northern Maine. Several coast villages and several ships reported seeing the figure, wading north a mile offshore. It was reported almost all the way to the Bay of Fundy. And then it vanished. This was too obvious for disbelief. No damage had been done. The thing apparently had encountered no ships; it had nowhere come ashore. But the sea was calm this night; the waves of the wading figure had rolled in and pounded the coast to give tangible evidence that the thing was no vision. The world was more than interested this time. There were near-panics in Boston that day--an exodus of people leaving the city by rail and by airplanes. Several of the local ships from New York to Boston canceled their sailings. People began leaving Cape Cod. There was disorganization, almost a flight from all the cities and villages up the coast. This was far different from some understood danger. A hurricane, a volcano, an earthquake--people will often face them with a stoicism amounting to foolhardiness, rather than abandon their homes. But this was the unknown, the supernatural. A gruesome horror. Within a day military law was declared all up the Maine coast. Troops were patrolling the area, and the people were being urged to leave. My chief sent for me at field headquarters. My mate was there; and the two alternate pilots of the route.