The Treasure Hunt of the S-18

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Eastward Bound

  After a hasty lunch Tim and Ralph returned to the _News_ office tocomplete the polishing up of the stories which had appeared in the noonedition. They expanded on the details of their adventures in the valleyof the Cedar and by two o'clock Tim was through. George Carson came outof his office.

  "Have any idea how long this Caribbean trip is going to take?" askedthe managing editor.

  "At least two months; perhaps longer," replied Tim.

  "I expected as much. You'll be on full time pay while you're away andI've made arrangements for the New York Journal's radio station to keepin contact with your submarine and relay your stories on to us. TheJournal, in return, has the exclusive right in New York to print any ofyour stuff it desires."

  "That's certainly fair enough and it insures speedy transmission for myyarns," nodded Tim.

  "I've told the cashier to provide you with an extra $500 to use in caseof an emergency and he's preparing a letter of credit should it beneeded. That ought to cover any financial difficulties. Take care ofyourself and good luck."

  The managing editor shook Tim's hand and then turned back to his ownoffice. Other members of the staff stopped to say goodbye and to envyhim the adventurous trip.

  Ralph was the last. His eyes were misty as he grasped Tim's hands.

  "I wish I could go along with the Jup. You may need a little rescuingbefore this trip is over."

  "I wish you could go," replied Tim, "but there'll probably be plenty ofexcitement around here while I'm gone and you'll thrive on that. Makearrangements for the return of the cars we left at Auburn."

  Tim had only an hour to get to his room and pack his bag. He hastenedthere in a cab, jammed shirts, toilet kit, underwear and othernecessities into a sturdy leather case, and then was on his way towardthe airport.

  At the field Carl Hunter shot one question after another at him for thenoon edition had been delivered there. Tim answered them as best hecould and countered with one of his own.

  "Did the amphibian come back here?"

  "We haven't seen it or heard anything. I've asked other ports along theline east to keep a lookout for it but they haven't reported a thing.They'll probably stop at only the smaller fields until they reach theeast again."

  Grenville Ford arrived in a speeding cab just as the afternooneastbound express roared over the field and circled to point its noseinto the wind and land.

  "All ready?" he shot at Tim as he dashed into the ticket office.

  "Anxious to go," replied the flying reporter.

  By the time the big twin-motored all-metal transport was in the hangarFord had reappeared with their tickets in one hand and baggage checksin the other.

  The eastbound express had been bucking headwinds all afternoon and as aresult was ten minutes late. Every effort was made to cut down the timerequired for refueling and Tim and Ford were hurried aboard theten-passenger plane and shown their seats with little ceremony. Theirbaggage was placed in the special compartment in the rear of the plane.

  While the co-pilot superintended the refueling and oiling of thesuper-charged motors, the chief pilot scanned the weather reports inthe radio room. The ground crew fairly ran from one task to another andless than ten minutes after landing, the big ship was ready to take off.

  The chief pilot took a final glance at the weather chart, then enteredthe cabin and made his way to the cockpit up ahead. The blocks werepulled from the wheels, the landing stage pulled into the clear, andwith a deep drumming of the motors they rolled out of the hangar.

  Tim, looking from a window, saw Carl Hunter waving at him. Then theywere swinging down the runway, headed on the first lap of what was tobe Tim's greatest adventure.