But all the time he was bathing and dressing, and even while he was eating Rad Sampson’s cakes and chops, the young inventor puzzled his brain over the incident and the possible identity of the person who had awakened him. “He is keeping mighty close tabs on me, whoever he is,” thought Tom. “Even knew I had this radio-telephone installed on the boat. And he must represent somebody with plenty of money. Humph, I wonder what the game really is! “Business rivals, I presume. And yet, that’s queer, too. I know no one who’s in desperate need of my ideas and plans just now. Humph! queer’s no word for it.” As he said, he had already selected his crew for the first flight of the _Winged Arrow_. The men were volunteers, of course, and they had signed off their personal indemnity before he accepted them. It was true, Ned Newton was to accompany him. Ned was almost as able to pilot the boat as Tom himself. Mr. Swift merely came down to the lake to bid them good-bye and watch the flight of the craft. He helped and advised Tom, but he left the active work wholly in his son’s capable hands now. The crowd that gathered numbered several hundred Shopton folk and probably some strangers. But as the preparations for the test were concluded Tom scrutinized the groups of spectators sharply for a sight of the man who had previously interested him. Whether it was that individual who had got in communication with Tom early that morning or not, the young inventor did not see him in the crowd. “Did you see him?” he asked Ned Newton, as the treasurer of the company came aboard at the last moment. “See who?” demanded Ned, in some surprise. “The Frenchman, as you called him.” “No, I had forgotten all about him.” “I have an idea that he has not forgotten about us—or about the _Winged Arrow_,” Tom said reflectively. CHAPTER XII IN PERIL There was a deal of running about by the crew, getting ready for the flight. Ned Newton stared at his friend, the inventor, and asked softly: “Just what are you getting at, Tom? Do you think that stranger is around again?” “I am pretty sure of it,” said Tom, in the same low tone. He swiftly related what he had heard by radio-telephone that morning. “The thing is mysterious, to say the least.” “I’ll say so!” agreed Ned, wagging his head. “I don’t see what it can mean.” “We will hear more of it,” said Tom with confidence. “But probably not to-day. At any rate, no stranger goes on the _Winged Arrow_ this first trip.” Although Rad Sampson had got breakfast for his beloved young master in the galley of the seaplane that morning, he got off in a hurry when the time approached for the trial flight. “I been up in de air befo’, big man,” he said to Koku. “But, belieb me! I ain’t hankering to go up no mo’ till Gabriel blows his trump. No-suh!” “Who Gab’el?” demanded the giant. “What he blow for?”