From the hill on which the Blair home stood they looked down on the sh.o.r.e of Lake Dubar with its half dozen boat landings, each with two or three motorboats awaiting the arrival of the first special excursion train.

Mrs. Blair called them to breakfast and they were getting up to go inside when Margaret's exclamation drew their attention back to the lake.

"Am I seeing things or is that the old _Queen_?" she asked, pointing down the lake.

Tom and Helen looked in the direction she pointed. An old, double decked boat, smoke rolling from its lofty, twin funnels, was churning its way up the lake.

"We may all be seeing things," cried Tom, "but it looks like the _Queen_.

I thought she had been condemned by the steamboat inspectors as unfit for further service."

"The news that 'Speed' Rand is going to be at Sandy Point is bringing hundreds more than the railroad expected," said Helen. "I talked with the station agent last night and they have four specials scheduled in this morning and they usually only have two."

"If they vote the paved roads at the special election next week,"

commented Tom, "the railroad will lose a lot of summer travel. As it is now, folks almost have to come by train for the slightest rain turns the roads around here into swamps and they can't run the risk of being marooned here for several days."

The _Queen_ puffed sedately toward sh.o.r.e. They heard the clang of bells in the engine room and the steady chouf-chouf of the exhaust cease. The smoke drifted lazily from the funnels. Bells clanged again and the paddle wheel at the stern went into the back motion, churning the water into white froth. The forward speed of the _Queen_ was checked and the big double-decker nosed into its pier.

"There's old Capt. Billy Tucker sticking his white head out of the pilot house," said Tom. "He's probably put a few new planks in the _Queen's_ rotten old hull and gotten another O. K. from the boat inspectors. But if that old tub ever hits anything, the whole bottom will cave in and she'll sink in five minutes."

"That's not a very cheerful Fourth of July idea," said Margaret. "Come on, let's eat. Your mother called us hours ago."

They had finished breakfast and were leaving the table when Mrs. Blair spoke.

"I've decided not to go down to Sandy Point with you," she said. "The crowd will be so large I'm afraid I wouldn't enjoy it very much."

"But we've planned on your going, Mother," said Helen.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you," smiled her mother, "but Margaret's mother and I will spend the day on the hill here. We'll be able to see the aerial circus perform and really we'll enjoy a quiet day here at home more than being in the crowd."

"It won't be very quiet if those kids keep on shooting giant crackers,"

said Tom.

"They'll be going to the celebration in another hour or two and then things will quiet down," said Mrs. Blair.

"How about a plane ride if the circus has time to take us?" asked Tom.

Helen saw her mother tremble at Tom's question, but she replied quickly.

"That's up to you, Tom. You know more about planes than I do and if you're convinced the flying circus is safe, I have no objection." But Helen made a mental reservation that the planes would have to look mighty safe before any of them went aloft.

They hurried down the hill to the pier which Jim Preston used. The boatman and his helpers had just finished polishing the three speed boats Preston owned, the _Argosy_, the _Liberty_ and the _Flyer_, which had been raised from the bottom of the lake and partially rebuilt.

"All ready for the big day?" asked the genial boatman.

"We're shy a few hours sleep," grinned Tom. "Those cannon crackers started about four o'clock but outside of that we're all pepped up and ready to go."

"About three or four years ago," reminded the boatman, "you used to be gallivantin' around town with a pocketful of those big, red crackers at sun-up. Guess you can't complain a whole lot now."

Tom admitted that he really couldn't complain and they climbed into the _Liberty_.

"I'm takin' some last minute supplies down to the hotel at Sandy Point,"

said the boatman, "so we won't wait for anyone else."

He switched on the starter and the boat quivered as the powerful motor took hold. They were backing away from the pier when the pilot of one of the other boats shouted for them to stop.

A boy was running down Main Street, waving a yellow envelope in his hand.

Jim Preston nosed the _Liberty_ back to the pier and the boy ran onto the dock.

"Telegram for you," he told Helen. "It's a rush message and I just had to get it to you."

"Thanks a lot," replied Helen. "Are there any charges?"

"Nope. Message is prepaid."

Helen ripped open the envelope with nervous fingers. Who could be sending her a telegram? Was there anything wrong with her father? No, that couldn't be it for her mother would have received the message.

She unfolded the single sheet of yellow paper and read the telegraph operator's bold scrawl.

"To: Helen Blair, _The Herald_, Rolfe. Understand 'Speed' Rand is at Rolfe for two days. Have rumor his next flight will be an attempted non-stop refueling flight around the world. See Rand at once and try for confirmation of rumor. Telephone as soon as possible. McClintock, The AP."

Helen turned to Tom and Margaret.

"I'm to interview 'Speed' Rand for the a.s.sociated Press," she exclaimed.

"Let's go!"

CHAPTER XIII _Helen's Exclusive Story_

While the _Liberty_ whisked them through the glistening waters of Lake Dubar toward Sandy Point, Margaret and Tom plied Helen with questions.

"Do you think Rand will give you an interview?" demanded Tom.

"I've got to get one," said Helen, her face flushed and eyes glowing with the excitement of her first big a.s.signment for the a.s.sociated Press.

"What will you ask him? How will you act?" Margaret wanted to know.

"Now don't try to get me fl.u.s.tered before I see Rand," laughed Helen. "I think I'll just explain that I am the local correspondent for the a.s.sociated Press, show him the telegram from Mr. McClintock and ask him to confirm or deny the story."

"I'll bet Rand's been interviewed by every famous reporter in the country," said Tom.

"Which will mean all the more honor and glory for Helen if she can get him to tell about his plans," said Margaret.

"I'll do my best," promised Helen and her lips set in a line that indicated the Blair fighting spirit was on the job.