And it was with warm admiration toward the absent chum who so
heroically had thwarted Morales' attempt to betray their hazardous
expedition that he circled now above the two groups of lights which
marked the Calomares ranch and radio station.
Smaller and smaller grew the circles, as with engine shut off he
volplaned. The field was hard-packed and smooth and the plane alighted
finally with practically no jar. When it came to a dead stop at last,
Bob drew a long breath of relief. He had not been up for several
weeks. And night flying above strange country to a landing on
unfamiliar ground had been a strain upon him.
There were no mechanics running out to greet the alighting plane and
trundle it into its hangar. Had this been a well-appointed landing
field, such absence would have been suspicious. But to Bob and Jack it
meant only confirmation of Roy Stone's remark that they were a
"careless lot at the ranch."
"Now for it," said Jack, clambering out of the plane.
The two chums stared around them, trying to pierce the darkness. They
were in the middle of a long and wide field. A ring of low hills
encircled them, the tops clearly outlined against the velvety sky.
Overhead twinkled stars, brighter, warmer and apparently closer than
when viewed in their Long Island home.
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