THE following morning Tom had a call from Nick Crynes, inviting him to come out to the airport that afternoon. Nick said he had persuaded a few friends to meet there and discuss flying. He added that he had also called Red and had suggested that the latter round up a few fellows from the high school and bring them along to the session.

The morning passed slowly after church services, and Tom was at the hangar well before the time set for the meeting. Pacing back and forth in front of the building, he impatiently awaited the others. He wondered about Nick's friends, and then he tried to imagine whom Red would bring to the conference. Much, if not all, depended upon the note struck at this first get-together. If they got off to a good start and the group liked the idea of having a CAP squadron in Wayfield, then all would go well, he thought. Of course, right at the root of the matter was the question of how much interest they might have in aviation. Lacking that, there would be little that anyone could do to get things going.

After what seemed like an endless wait, Nick and his friends arrived and Tom was introduced around. Sam Tolliver, he already knew; tall and lean, with friendly gray eyes, the physical training instructor and athletic coach was extremely popular at Wayfield High. Dick Hirsch, a reporter on the Wayfield Ledger, of which Mr. Carroll was editor, Tom had also met in his father's office. He did not know Bill Trabue, a likable chap who greeted him warmly.

A few minutes later, Red appeared on the scene. He brought with him five high school juniors whom Tom knew, though none of them well. Ralph Cross, stocky and dark complexioned, was probably the most popular fellow in the high school. Not only a fine athlete, he was also prominent in many other school activities and was an honor student. Ed Dawson was a wiry individual and an almost constant companion of Cross. Tad Sullivan, Ned Banks, and Frank Curtin, all clean-cut and friendly, were well thought of by the student body. With a glow of gratitude toward Red, Tom realized that his friend had brought to the meeting five of the most representative members of the class.

"Well, fellows," Nick said after he had distributed cokes to everyone, "Tom Carroll and Red Martin and I asked you to come here today to talk over something you might be interested in. You see, yesterday we three worked with the Sandeford Squadron of the Civil Air Patrol. They used this field as a base of operations while they searched for a plane that went down between Easton and Greenville."

"Ow!" Dick Hirsch cut in with a plaintive wail. "Now you tell me! That was a news story and you didn't let me know about it!"

"Sorry, Dick," Nick said with a rueful smile. "I forgot all about the news angle. Anyway, we learned a few things about the CAP, and we thought we'd talk it over with all of you and see if you feel the way we do."

With that, Nick went on to describe more fully what had happened on Saturday, as well as some of the other activities of the Sandeford Squadron. He touched only lightly on the national CAP organization, telling his listeners that he knew too little about it. But he did cover the principal points that the CAP men had mentioned concerning the advantages of belonging to the CAP, as well as the good work it could do in a community.

"I think you've gone over the ground pretty well, Nick," Tolliver observed as the latter asked him to speak. "I don't know too much about the CAP, though I've read quite a bit about it. I think it offers a great deal to anyone interested in flying, especially when they're as young as some of you here."

"How about old men like Nick and yourself?" Bill Trabue asked with a grin.

"Same goes for them," Tolliver answered. "A senior squadron, with a cadet squadron attached, can do a lot of good both for the members and for the town in which it's located."

'Tm in the Air Force Reserve, and I try to get some time in on active duty each year," Hirsch observed, "but I sure would like to be able to work year round on my flying. If you're thinking about forming a squadron here, I'm all for it."

"Me, too," Trabue put in. "I wasn't a fly-boy during the last war, even though I was with the Air Force, but I've got a hankering to get back in harness again. Like Dick here, I'm all for trying to get a squadron set up in our town."

In a friendly manner, Tolliver turned to Ralph Cross and said, "Well, it looks as if we have the nucleus for a senior squadron. Now how do you fellows feel about things?"

"I don't think many of us have given much thought to flying until today, sir," Ralph answered. "I certainly can see that there're lots of advantages to having the CAP in Way- field, but I'd like to ask a couple of questions. For instance, what's the tie-in of the CAP with the Air Force?"

"As I understand it," Tolliver replied, "the CAP is an auxiliary of the Air Force. Equipment, supplies of some types, light planes and surplus materials are issued to the CAP by the USAF. And the CAP is called upon to perform certain missions in behalf of, or in conjunction with, the Air Force. Besides this, the Air Force has liaison officers assigned to CAP Wing Headquarters in each state, as well as a staff on duty in Washington to handle all CAP affairs. Does that answer your question?"

"But if you join the CAP, does that mean that you become a part of the Air Force?" Cross asked.

"Oh, no," Tolliver answered. "You're not enlisting in the Air Force, or making yourself eligible to be drafted into it, or anything like that. Of course, if you were to enlist in the Air Force later, the training that you get in the CAP would be of tremendous value to you. In fact, I think you get some sort of credit for service with the CAP."

"That straightens me out on that, sir, but I have another question. Some of us are on high school teams, and we have lots of practice and games, as you know. Wouldn't a thing like this take a lot of time and interfere with other school activities?"

"That's a good question, Ralph," the gym teacher said. "The best answer I can think of is that the same problem is faced by cadets throughout the country. Of course the time you would give to the CAP would be taken from something else. Generally speaking, though, I think that meetings and training periods can be arranged so that there is a minimum of interference with school activities."

"Captain Hall told us yesterday that in Sandeford the high schools have regular periods of instruction in CAP training subjects," Tom put in. "The instruction is a part of the curricula and the students get regular credits for the course."

"That's a swell idea," Tad Sullivan remarked. "Maybe we could have something like that in Wayfield."

"I didn't know about that," Tolliver said, "but I don't see why we shouldn't have it in our town, if they permit it in Sandeford."

"But it isn't all just study, is it?" Ned Banks queried. "Not at all, Ned. Of course there would be a regular meeting time each week and training right here at the air field," Tolliver answered.

"How much would the town have to contribute?" Ed Dawson asked.

"Directly, Wayfield wouldn't have to contribute anything more than the use of the airfield," Tolliver replied. "But of course the squadron would have to get some money for things that can't be obtained from the Air Force or the CAP. We wouldn't need much though."

Nick Crynes cleared his throat nervously and turned to the gym teacher. With an embarrassed air, he said, "There's one thing I ought to mention right here, I guess. As you know, this airport hasn't been as busy as it might be. Some people in town are all for getting rid of it for that reason. And I've heard that Ed Dawson's father has made a bid for the field and wants to build a lot of houses out here. Of course, if that happens, we might as well forget about this whole idea."

"Gosh, the town couldn't do that!" Tom exclaimed.

"What makes you think it couldn't?" Ed Dawson asked truculently.

"Well .... I don't see . . . I mean, I don't think it would," Tom said miserably.

"The town can do anything it wants to, Tom," Dick Hirsch said quietly. "But even if Mr. Dawson has made a bid, the council has to put it up for a vote at the next Town Meeting."

Dawson snorted and, looking directly at Tom, said, "If my father made an offer to the council, it'll probably be accepted all right, meeting or no meeting."

There was an uncomfortable silence. Dawson's attitude was plainly one of disdain, pointedly aimed at Tom and apparently generally directed at the whole idea. It had a jarring effect, injecting an unpleasant note into what had been an enthusiastic and harmonious atmosphere.

"Well, there's no need to worry about that problem until we find out whether or not it's true," Tolliver stated reassuringly.

"Sure. I may be completely off base," Nick said with false heartiness.

"I guess we ought to find out about it, though, before we go much further," Ralph Cross added. "Maybe Ed could talk to his father .... "

"I don't know anything about my father's business," Dawson said defensively. "If he's planning to buy the field, that's his affair, and I'm not going to mess around in it."

"Ed's right," Tolliver said placatingly. "One of us can look into this. Meanwhile, though, do you fellows think there'd be enough interest in the high school to get a cadet squadron formed if we find that the airport is not going to be sold?"

His question had been aimed at Ralph Cross, and after a thoughtful pause, the latter said, "As far as I'm concerned, sir, I'd like to think a little about it. It's something to consider, all right, but I'd like to make sure that it's not going to interfere with other school activities."

"But don't you think this would fit into the other things like athletics without interfering too much?" Tom asked, almost desperately, knowing the influence that Cross had in Wayfield High.

"Look, Carroll," Dawson cut in, "it's like Ralph said. This isn't anything that we can jump into just because you think it's a good idea. We've got to think this over."

"I wasn't asking you? Tom exclaimed heatedly.

"Okay! So you weren't asking me. But I'm telling you that you're not going to get everyone in the school to join this CAP outfit just because you want to fly," Dawson said. Then, turning to Ralph Cross, he added, "Come on, Ralph, we're late, so let's go. Maybe Carroll can get some of the freshmen to join up with him."

"And maybe you're afraid your father wouldn't like to see a squadron formed in Wayfield," Tom said, white with anger.

Dawson stopped dead in his tracks. With a level stare at Tom, he said, "You're new around here, Carroll, so I'll let that one pass. But just be careful what you say."

Ralph Cross stepped between Dawson and Tom. Turning to the latter, and in a friendly way, he said, "Let's you and I talk this over some more, Carroll. Just because I want to think about it doesn't mean I'm not interested. Besides, there're probably lots of fellows in school that would like to join up, even if I don't. See you later."

As Dawson and Cross left the hangar, the other three friends of Red moved over to Tom's side. One by one they reassured him, and each managed to let him know that on any issue involving difficulty with Ed Dawson, Tom would find plenty of support. They all admitted that it would be a great advantage to have Ralph Cross in the squadron, for his opinions carried great weight. Still, they protested, Ralph was fair-minded and would not let Dawson sway him unduly. It would probably be the other way round, Tad Sullivan stated, with Dawson more likely to give way to his friend's judgment.

"Well now, Tom, you see there is a lot of interest in the proposal," Sam Tolliver said pleasantly when a lull came in the talk.

"Yeah," Nick piped up. "And you also know what the setup is as far as the Dawsons are concerned. Young Ed is a chip off the old block."

'Tm sorry I said what I did. He just griped me a little," Tom remarked.

"Forget it," Bill Trabue put in. "Dawson or no Dawson, I think we ought to go ahead on this thing. How about it, Sam?"

"I think so. If all of you are willing, I'll get in touch with Jim Boswell. I know him slightly, and I'll ask him where I should write and what we should do. As soon as I have some information, I'll get in touch with all of you and we'll meet again. Meanwhile, let's see what we can find out about this real estate proposal of Mr. Dawson. And you fellows from the high school ought to talk things up and see what sort of reaction you can get from others in school."

With that, the meeting broke up and a short while later Tom and Red started on their way home together.

"I guess I sort of put my foot in it," Tom remarked.

"Well, I don't think you helped matters much," Red admitted. "Big Ed Dawson swings a lot of power in this town, and young Ed and Ralph have always been good friends."

"Do you think Ralph meant what he said about thinking this whole thing over?" Tom asked.

"Oh, sure. Ralph is okay. It's Dawson that I'm afraid of. If he tells his father about this, we may find ourselves stopped before we even get started," Red said.

"But if the town wants to keep the airport and let us use it, there isn't much that Mr. Dawson can do, is there?" Tom asked.

Red shook his head. "I don't know anything about this real estate deal that Nick mentioned, but if Big Ed is trying to get the town to sell him the airport, the chances are that he'll get it. He's got a lot of influence with the Town Council, and he can persuade a great many people to vote his way at the next Town Meeting."

They walked the remainder of the way in silence, each lost in his own thoughts. For this part, Tom felt a conflict of emotions. On the one hand, he was delighted with the ready acceptance of the proposal to form a Wayfield squadron by Nick's three friends and by Curtin, Sullivan and Banks. In them he saw a solid foundation for any organization that might be set up. Their enthusiasm, too, would do much to influence others, whatever the opposition to the idea. Conversely, he was disturbed by the reluctance of Ralph Cross to commit himself and by the almost open antagonism of Ed Dawson. Cross, he knew, was a leader in the high school. Well-liked and respected by both the faculty and the student body, any stand taken by Ralph would be bound to attract followers. Dawson's importance lay in his friendship for Cross and in the power of his father in Wayfield. If young Ed were to sway his friend and at the same time enlist the aid of his parent in opposing the formation of a squadron, then the prospects of success would not be bright. In the final analysis, Tom reasoned, his best hope was that Cross would be interested in the CAP and would persuade Dawson to go along with him.

He left Red at the front gate and went into the house to find no one at home. Back in the yard, he stretched out on a hammock that swung between two elms. Discarding the thoughts that he had been turning over in his mind, he lapsed into daydreaming.

He could visualize the squadron taking shape in Wayfield. First would develop a smartly turned out group of cadets, all of them charged with enthusiasm and keen with ambition to learn the air game. Gradually, if all that the Sandeford men had said was true, would come the equipment and materials that would turn the outfit into a really operational unit. Exercises would follow, each improving the teamwork so necessary in aviation. Flights of all sorts would fit into the program of training. And if emergencies arose, if speed and teamwork and know-how were needed in any situation, the Wayfield Squadron would be ready to do its part. Then, perhaps, the town would really recognize the worth of having a CAP outfit available ....

His reverie was interrupted by the sound of someone in the house. Rising from the hammock, he hurried to the kitchen and found that his parents had just returned from a visit. After greeting them both, he sat down and watched his father open the refrigerator and peer inside.

"How about a slug of milk and a slab of pie?" Mr. Carroll asked.

"Thanks, Dad. I don't think I'll have any now."

With a disbelieving look, his father said, "You don't look sick, yet you turn down pie and milk. Must have something on your mind."

"I do, sort of," Tom answered with a grin.

"Tell us about it, Son. We three can usually find a way to solve our problems by talking them over, eh, Catherine?"

His wife smiled and answered, "It has always worked in the past, though you two generally gang up on me. Go ahead, Tom."

With both parents listening attentively, Tom related the happenings of the previous day and told about the meeting he had attended that afternoon. He covered everything in detail, outlining his own feelings about forming a squadron, as well as describing the enthusiasm of the others. When he painted the picture of the benefits of a community having a CAP unit, his father nodded appreciatively, for as editor of the Wayfield Ledger, he was intensely interested in anything affecting the town. Finally, Tom recounted the reaction of Cross and Dawson and brought in the possibility of the latter's father blocking the CAP project.

At that point, Mr. Carroll whistled softly and said, "That does complicate matters, Tom. Your friend Red is absolutely right. Dawson is a power here in Wayfield."

"But if the town voted against selling the field, he couldn't do anything, could he?" Tom asked.

"No, of course not, Tom. But the danger lies in Dawson making the townspeople think that they want the field sold. That, plus a little pressure in the right places, and he'd be able to get his proposal passed at the Town Meeting."

"Then everyone interested in seeing the CAP squadron organized is going to have to fight to convince the voters that Mr. Dawson is wrong," Tom declared.

At that juncture Mrs. Carroll moved over to her son's side and slipped her arm across his shoulders. Looking down at him with her eyes full of understanding, she said, "Son, you know your father and I have no objection to your interest in flying. I think the idea of forming the squadron in Wayfield is good, too. But I think you ought to very careful about getting mixed up in anything that may harm your father's business."

"Now, Catherine," Mr. Carroll said as he raised a hand in protest, "I'm not at all sure that this would affect me. I do think, though, that I ought to explain a few things about my business to Tom .... You see, Son," he continued, "this move of ours to Wayfield meant a great deal to me. I've bought an interest in the Ledger and have the chance to get complete control of the paper within a few years. During those years I'll have to work as hard as I know how, if I'm going to be able to swing the deal. I'll need the breaks, too. And, of course, I wouldn't like to have a man like Dawson against me, for with his influence he could probably put me out of business if he wanted to do so."

"Gosh!" Tom exclaimed miserably. "I didn't realize everything was so involved."

"But I want you to understand this," Mr. Carroll said seriously. "If I am convinced that the airport shouldn't be sold, I'll oppose the sale. I'd rather lose the paper than turn my back on what I think is right."

"But, Dad, I don't want to . . ."

"Son, if a group of our townspeople think something is for the good of the community, it's my duty to support them if I think they're right. The only thing I want to be sure of is that I'm doing what seems right to me."

"I understand, Dad," Tom said in a quiet voice. "Good! Now let's not worry any more about it," his father said genially. "It looks to me like you've already made a good start, so go ahead and see what has to be done to get this squadron going."

Just then the phone rang and Tom answered it to find Red calling him.

"I've got the airport story. Want to hear it now?" Red asked.

"Shoot," Tom said.

"Nick was right," Red began. "Dawson did make an offer to the Town Council. He wants to build a big real estate development out there. The Council liked his proposition and is going to put it up at the next Town Meeting. My dad says that most people in town favor the idea of selling because the airport isn't used enough."

"Oh, fine," Tom said sarcastically.

"Wait a minute, Tom. Even though Dawson is powerful, he isn't exactly loved by everyone in Wayfield. Dad says that some people think he's not offering a fair price for the field. And there are some folks that would be against the idea just because Dawson is for it. But as things stand now, the vote at the meeting would probably favor the sale of the airport to him."

"When is the Town Meeting?" Tom asked.

"In about six weeks. That means if we're going to do anything, we'll have to move fast."

When he had said good-bye to Red, Tom returned to the kitchen and repeated to his parents the information that he had received from his friend.

"I knew the meeting was coming up. Now it looks as if there may be some excitement at it," Mr. Carroll said when Tom had finished.

"What do you think of it, Dad?" Tom asked.

"Well, Tom, I'm not going to commit myself right now without knowing a lot more about the whole business. I want to learn more about the offer Dawson made, about the airport and about the CAP. It may be that, in spite of what you've told me, I'll not agree with you."

"Okay, sir," Tom said quickly. "I think we'll be able to convince you that we're right about forming the squadron."

"If you do," his father promised, "you'll find the Ledger on your side."