That is when I noticed they were both wearing bows across their backs.

“Aren’t Brownies a little young for archery?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

“You are never too young to defend yourself against a wild beast!” said Miss Macy.

“I hope you brought water this time,” said Sina faintly.

Normally she would have said nothing. She wanted nothing to do with the hearty Girl Guide promulgation, but she didn’t want a property full of small children blowing about like tumbleweeds either.

Winifred and I went back to pacing up and down the length and breadth of the farm, Winifred waffling between wanting to call her mother, wanting to choke the information out of Zebediah, wanting to threaten the hermit, and wanting to wait and hope for the best.

“If Zebediah has gone to see the hermit, he must know by now that we took the letters,” I said.

“Or he suspects the hermit has done away with them. Zebediah is very suspicious. He has never been a trusting soul,” said Winifred worriedly, and picked up the pace. It was an unusually hot day. I sweated, stumbling along behind her, hoping she would come to a conclusion before I looked like a trial tyke myself.

“All right, let’s tell Mother,” said Winifred finally when we’d completed our eighth lap of the fields.

“That would have been my choice,” I said.

I wanted to add that if she’d chosen to do that back when I had, while still on lap number one, she would have saved us considerable wear and tear on our sneakers; but, of course, I did not say this, as Winifred had enough to contend with.

We were therefore startled when approaching Sina’s studio to see her flying out of it, radio in hand, screeching, “Oh dear! Oh dear! Franny, darling, come quickly! Winifred, Zebediah!”

We ran to her and she said nothing more, but thrust the radio out in front of us while turning up the volume.

“And the Argot, the air force’s long-distance reconnaissance plane, has been stolen from the air base in Comox. The Argot is known to be coveted by other countries for its ability to fly for days without refueling. A maintenance man, Robert Madden, is missing as well. Whether he has been kidnapped or has himself something to do with the plane’s disappearance is unknown at this point.”

“That’s what this has been about? He’s stolen a plane? Mother must know. That’s what she must have meant by saying he was going to do something stupid,” Winifred wailed, and then she finally satisfied Sina’s every secret prognostication by breaking into sobs every bit as hysterical and racking as Crying Alice’s.

Sina and I could think of nothing to say to comfort her. And before we could, a car came barreling down the farm road, nearly running us over in its urgency. It came to a crunching crash right beside us, and out leapt Mrs. Brookman. “Oh good, dear,” she said, running up to Winifred and clutching her by the shoulders. “Quickly. Your mother called the store and wants you children to call her back. Where are your brothers?”