than
Johnny had dreamed a tree could stretch its branches, and screened
completely the wide space beneath. It was like a great tent, with the
back wall lifted; since here the branches inclined upward, scraping the
hillside with their tips. The Thunder Bird could be wheeled around
behind and under easily enough, and never seen from the front and
sides. It was so obviously perfect that Johnny wondered why Cliff
should bother to consult him about it. He wondered, too, how Cliff had
found the place, how he had completed so quickly his plans to use it
for the purpose. It looked almost as though Cliff had expected him and
had made ready for him though that could not be so, since not even
Johnny himself had known that he was coming to the Coast so soon. But
to have the place all ready, with a man to take charge and all in a few
hours, was an amazing accomplishment that filled Johnny with awe.
Cliff Lowell must be a wizard at news-gathering if his talents were to
be measured by this particular achievement.

"Well, do you think it will serve?" Catlike, Cliff had come up behind
him.

"Sure it will serve. If you can think up some way to hide the track of
the plane when it lands, it wouldn't be found here in a thousand years.
But of course the marks will show--"

"Just what kind of marks?"

"Well, the wheels themselves don't leave much of a track, and the wind
fills them quick, anyway. But the drag digs in. If you've ever been
around a flying field you've noticed what looks like wheel-barrow
tracks all over, haven't you? That's something you can't get away
from, wherever you land. Though of course some soil holds the mark
worse than others."

"That will be attended to. Now I'll show you just where this spot is
on the map." He produced the folded map and opened it, kneeling on the
ground to spread it flat. "You see those twin peaks up there? They
are just here. This is the valley, and right here is the cabin. You
might take this map and study it well. You will have to fly high, to
avoid observation, and land with as little manoeuvering as possible.
For ten or fifteen miles around here there is nothing but wilderness,
fortunately. The land is held in an immense tract--and I happen to
know the owners so that it will be only chance observers we need to
fear. You will need to choose your landing so that you can come down
right here, close to the oak, and be able to get the machine under
cover at once. I'll