“The hermit,” said Zebediah importantly. “Father always wanted to fly the Argot. I was telling the hermit about it, and he said he knew how. And he told me there was a code to start the plane. He told me what it was and helped me print it correctly, and I sent it to Father.”

“And I thought the hermit wouldn’t bother with a twitchy little boy,” I said, and then realized this was rude even under the circumstances. “Sorry, Zebediah.”

“I told you he thinks I’m special,” said Zebediah.

“You are not! I never heard of such a thing!” said Winifred.

“Father always wanted to fly the Argot?” said Wilfred.

“Yes. He told me when we lived in Comox. He said day after day after day he goes in and takes care of the plane. But he doesn’t want to take care of planes; he wants to fly them. They won’t let him be a pilot because he never got his high school diploma. Which is very unfair. He knows how to fly a plane. He said he knows the Argot. He loves the Argot. He said he just wanted to take it up once. To see what it was like. He said he planned to do it and bring it right back. He decided now was the time, that he was going to try to break the code. He had a plan to push a different series of numbers until he hit upon the right sequence. But then the hermit gave me the code and I gave it to Father. So now he gets his chance to fly it. You don’t have to worry. He was never planning on stealing it. They got that part all wrong. He just wants to play with it.”

“Well, if he just wanted to play with it,” said Winifred, “why hasn’t he returned it yet?”

“Maybe he’s having fun!” said Zebediah. “I want to go up, too!”

“No you don’t!” snapped Wilfred.

“Me too!” said Gladys. But we ignored her. She had absentmindedly polished off the rest of the cobbler while hanging on every thrilling word.

“Yes I do. I want to play with the Argot with Daddy,” said Zebediah stubbornly. He stood up on his chair, held his arms out, and began to make his airplane buzzing noises.

“Sit down!” ordered Winifred. “Don’t you get it, Zebediah? The air force doesn’t let people play with their planes.”

“And the hermit?” said Wilfred. “Did you hear the man on the radio say that only a handful of people in Canada know the access code? The hermit couldn’t possibly know it.”

“Well, I guess he does,” said Zebediah smugly. “Because Father is gone and so is the plane.”