CHAPTER 7Stephen Court left for Canada on the 2nd of January, 1941. His cabin plane contained two passengers and a good deal of equipment. Marion Barton went with him, and he had allowed Sammy to go along. The old man had been made over in every other respect, but wanderlust can be removed from a man only by the surgery of death.
“I won’t be no trouble, Stevie,” he had argued. “I get itchy feet this time of year, and besides, I never rode in an airplane. Anyhow”—his watery eyes had narrowed cunningly—“you’ll need a handyman to do odd jobs. I can help you unpack and do other things.”
To save argument that would waste time, Court had agreed. It was a clear, bitingly cold day when the plane took off from the Wisconsin flying field. Luckily the weather reports were good. Though there was no
