fallen across the very thing they needed.

"It's just like the story books!" cried Peggy, delightedly.

They raced down toward the coveted can, which was half full of the
precious fuel. Enough to get them ashore at any rate. Before returning to
the stranded aeroplane they examined the hut, but found nothing in it but
a few broken-down bits of furniture.

"Queer," commented Jeff, "I half expected to find something."

"Not likely," laughed Roy, "they're too foxy for that."

"What do you suppose they came to the island for?" asked Peggy.

"To get a quiet place to talk where they would not be observed by any one
who knew them, I guess," rejoined her brother. "Oh, if only we could
solve the mystery. It's tantalizing to be so close to it and yet with so
many tangled ends left ravelled."

"Be patient," advised Peggy, "it will all come out in time. And now I'm
as famished for lunch as the Golden Butterfly is, so lets fill up the
tank and then head for home."

"Second the motion," laughed Jeff Stokes.

Half an hour later the Golden Butterfly once more rose, and without
incident or mishap winged her way back to Rocky Point.

CHAPTER XIII.

JUKES DADE APPEARS.

The aviation field at Acatonick a few days before the big contests for
juvenile aviators was alive with action and color. The spot selected was
a flat, smooth field of some fifty acres on the outskirts of the town.

The grass spread a green carpet, thickly sprinkled with wild flowers,
while at one side of the place was a row of green-painted sheds known as
the "hangars."

"Hangar is French for shed," Peggy had explained to a group of friends
from Sandy Bay whom she was showing over the grounds, "and I think that
_shed_ is a whole lot better word than 'Ongar,' which is the way you are
supposed to pronounce it."

One of the sheds--as in deference to Peggy we shall call them--was of a
different color, and stood somewhat apart from the rest. It was also much
larger and bore in consequential-looking letters over its door the words:

"Harding Aeroplane Company. Keep Out."

And to see that this notice was enforced to the letter, Fanning Harding
had installed a red-nosed watchman with a formidable club at the portal.
Considerable secrecy, in fact, had been observed concerning his
aeroplane. Several large boxes had arrived one night and been hustled as
quickly as possible into the shed.

The shed assigned to Roy Prescott, happened, by an