The machine was put in the best possible trim. It lacked two hours
of nightfall but Dave had plenty to occupy his mind. For over an
hour he sat looking over maps and memoranda, and blocking out his
course. He had been very explicit and painstaking in questioning
the moving picture man. He had made inquiries concerning Anseton
and its vicinity down to the smallest detail. From all this Dave
had decided on a permanent landing place, a sort of headquarters
from which he could branch out in his personal investigations in the
day time and sally forth on an air hunt in the dark.

The aviators could distinctly hear a bell in some tower tolling the
hour of nine as they circled a busy city that lay beyond and below,
them, a blur of light. Dave at the levers kept the Monarch II at a
fair height, constantly scanning an expanse to the north dotted only
here and there with lights. Once past the outskirts of the city he
turned due north.

"Why, hello!" exclaimed his companion, "we're over water!"

"Yes," replied Dave, "it's the lake."

"Lake Superior! Dave, are we going to cross it?"

"A good many times in the future probably, but not tonight. I am
looking for a revolving light west of the city, right along the
coast."

"I'll keep a lookout, too."

The lake was here and there dotted with the signal lights of