IT WAS not until the following Monday that Tom had a chance to meet with Mr. Tolliver. Then, after telling the athletic instructor of the elder Dawson's visit to the Ledger office, he tried to describe his father's feelings about the formation of the squadron.

"Dad seems to think that we've first got to build a pretty good case for ourselves," he said. "He thinks that Dawson is in a strong position because it looks like his project will help the town. If we could show that there's another way for the town to get the housing, we'd be able to cut him down to our size. Once we do that, according to Dad, we'd then have to do everything we can to prove that the CAP would be good for Wayfield."

Tolliver pursed his lips, whistling softly. "Your father," he said finally, "is a smart man. If we're going to get the CAP started in Wayfield, we're going to have to do exactly what he suggested."

"But how?"

"I think maybe you've got an idea," Tolliver said slowly. "If we could get that aerial photo of the town you suggested . . ."

"I thought maybe Major Boswell could help us out," Tom cut in, snapping his fingers excitedly. "Maybe he could . . ."

"... take the aerial photos?" Tolliver finished, an amused look on his face. "That's just what I was coming around to. I'll call him this evening at his home and find out about it."

"He'll help us if he can, I'm sure of that," Tom said. "But how about the rest of the job, sir?"

"We'll know better after Wednesday, Tom. I was thinking that if we get enough volunteers at the next meeting, we can divide them up into teams. Then, after just a little training, the teams can call on everyone that'll vote at the Town Meeting. They can explain the CAP to them and pass out literature about it. And if they can't convince the people of Wayfield, then no one can."

"That sounds like a swell idea," Tom said, his eyes sparkling.

"It'll mean lots of work, but it'll be worth it if we do it right," Tolliver said.

"We'll do it all right," Tom stated confidently, as he took leave of the instructor.

The Sandeford Squadron, Tom learned from Tolliver the next day, was not equipped to take the aerial photographs of Wayfield. But Major Boswell had promptly volunteered to call a friend of his at the state National Guard Air Squadron, to ask that organization to do the job. Later the major had phoned Tolliver to tell him that he would not have an answer on the matter until later in the week. When Tom showed his disappointment at the news, the instructor chided him, assuring him that Boswell was very hopeful that the photos would be made by the Guard squadron.

In spite of Tolliver's optimism concerning the outcome of the request, Tom entered the Wednesday assembly with some trepidation. If the turnout of students for this meeting were to be too small, it would be another setback. Whatever the number of volunteers, the squadron could be started, he felt; but if only a handful showed themselves interested, then the teams that Tolliver had in mind would hardly be able to make a dent on the collective thinking of the people of Wayfield. Moreover, an initial lack of enthusiasm, by itself, would jeopardize the chances of getting the proposed squadron off to a good start.

So it was that Tom sat near the rear of the auditorium and checked off the students as they entered. As the number gradually increased, his fears disappeared. When Tolliver finally mounted the stage to call the meeting to order, Tom had counted more than sixty boys and girls, mostly juniors and sophomores, present in the room.

This time Tolliver called upon a few students in the front to distribute a supply of blank forms to all who were present. He then explained to the group how the forms should be filled out and instructed them to take them home, study them carefully, obtain the signatures of their parents and bring them with them to the next meeting. After that he launched into a description of what had happened since their last session together.

He had obtained permission from the school principal, Dr. Ferris, to use school facilities for CAP meetings, he explained. The question of whether or not the CAP instruction could be fitted into the curriculum for the next year was, of course, undecided. That would have to be acted upon by the School Board of Wayfield. He still had to gather a lot of information before he could present the case for this course to the board.

Meanwhile, he stated, he had written to the Wing Headquarters of the CAP, at the state capital, and was expecting a visit from an official of that organization. Though he anticipated no difficulty, he wanted all to know that the squadron could only be activated by authority of the Wing Commander, after the inspection and discussion of the matter between the seniors and the Wing official. In the latter regard, he announced with obvious pleasure, there were already some fourteen seniors who were interested in forming a senior squadron. In addition, a number of citizens whom he had approached were showing some interest in agreeing to serve as an Advisory Group for the proposed cadet squadron.

His voice serious, the athletic instructor next touched lightly on the matter of the sale of the airport. Much depended on whether or not the town decided to sell the airport. Until that was decided, the future of the squadron would be in doubt. It would be possible, though not at all desirable, to organize the squadron without having an airfield immediately available. Finally, he closed the session with the announcement that he would inform the group of the time and place of the next meeting.

"What did you think of the turnout?" Tom asked the instructor as the latter made his way out of the auditorium.

"Not bad, Tom. What did you think of it?" Tolliver inquired.

"A little disappointing, sir, but enough to get us off to a good start."

"What did you fellows think of it?" Tolliver asked Ralph Cross, Red, and Tad Sullivan as the trio approached.

"Could have been better, sir," Ralph answered for the trio, "but I think we'll find more people interested after the question of the airport is settled. Some of the fellows have told me that they're going to hold off for a while and see what happens."

"I've heard the same thing," Tad put in.

"Me, too. There're a lot more interested, but they didn't think they ought to come today because they haven't made up their minds," Red added.

"That's fine. And speaking of getting the show on the road, how about you four coming to my house this evening. I've got a few things to talk over with you," Tolliver said.

After assuring him that they would be present at the evening meeting, the four friends made their way out of the school building and headed toward a near-by drugstore that served as an off-campus gathering place. On the way, Ed Dawson joined the group, saying little to anyone except Ralph.

"Are you going to let this CAP stuff interfere with baseball practice, Ralph?" Dawson asked pointedly as the group settled around the table.

"Nope," Ralph answered with a grin. "The coach took care of that. The field was too wet for a workout after last night's rain, so practice was called off."

"I don't think Mr. Tolliver plans to let CAP meetings interfere with athletics," Tom put in, making an effort to inject a friendly note in his voice.

"Suppose the grounds hadn't been wet?" Dawson persisted, ignoring Tom's remark.

"It's just as Tom said. Mr. T. is planning to keep the CAP sessions from interfering with practice," Ralph answered.

"Between them, Tolliver and Carroll are going to have everything fixed up just dandy, aren't they," Dawson said with a sneer.

Once again Tom felt his temper blaze, but aside from a slight flush of anger, he kept himself well under control. Dawson, he told himself, was trying to get a rise out of him, perhaps trying to force a showdown between him and Ralph. For his part, he promised himself silently, he would not be tempted to say or do anything that would place him at a disadvantage with Cross or any of the others.

"Uh . . . we're all trying to help get things started," Red mumbled, breaking the embarrassed silence that had fallen on the table.

"Maybe you're just wasting your time," Ed Dawson suggested.

"What makes you think that?" Tad asked.

"Ask Carroll. I hear he learned a few things last Saturday,'' Dawson replied, settling back in his chair with an amused glance in Tom's direction.

"Yes, I did learn a few things," Tom said coolly. "For instance, I learned that when things don't go the way some people in town think they should, then those same people try to tell others what they're supposed to do. And then I learned that those same people think they can scare others into doing what a few want done, regardless of what may be right. And I also learned that some people are maybe a little jittery about the way things may turn out and are trying to throw their weight around."

"Are you talking about my father?" Dawson asked, his face paling.

"You brought the subject up," Tom shot back.

"Wait a minute, now.... "Ralph interrupted.

Dawson jumped to his feet, bumping against the table and tilting it enough to spill the drinks on to the laps of Red and Tom, who had been sitting on the side opposite to him.

"You and I are going to tangle some day, Carroll," Dawson grated. "And some day is right now. C'mon outside and let's settle this thing .... "

"Just a minute," Ralph cut in sharply as Tom quickly rose. "You're both acting like a couple of kids. And you're both wrong. Ed, you started this, and you're off the beam."

Then, without giving Dawson a chance to answer, he said to Tom, "You haven't shown much sense, either. If you're really interested in getting the CAP started in Wayfield, you'd better use your head a little more." With that, he left the table, Ed Dawson trailing behind him.

Tom said nothing to Red and Tad, but inside he was seething. Ralph, he told himself, had sided with Dawson against him, despite the latter's provocation of the argument. It had been clear from the outset that the real estate man's son had been intent on creating just such a scene as had taken place. Either Ralph had deliberately blinded himself to the facts, or he had decided that he valued his friendship with Dawson more than any interest he might have in the CAP or with those who were concerned with it. Beneath his feeling, too, Tom felt a sense of guilt for having permitted himself to be tantalized by Dawson's remarks.

"Well," Tad said after a short silence, "here we go again."

"Yeah. Ed was in good form today, all right," Red added.

"You guys siding with them?" Tom asked bitterly.

"Don't be silly," Tad said. "You just zigged when you should have zagged."

"Sure. Ed mouse-trapped you. He's an expert at it," Red said.

"What do you mean?" Tom asked.

"Look, Tom. Ed came in here today just to try and cause trouble between you and Ralph. He wanted to get a rise out of you and make you lose your head," Tad explained patiently.

"He's done the same thing lots of times," Red put in.

"But how about Ralph?" Tom asked perplexedly. "Didn't he understand what Dawson was trying to do? Why did he side with him?"

"Sure he did," Red declared. "That's why he left with Ed. He'll lay the law down to him, all right. But he was right about you, too, Tom. If you want to fight Dawson, Ralph won't try to stop you. But he doesn't think that'll help us get the CAP started here. That's just what Ed was trying to do."

"That's right. If Dawson could scrap with you, a lot of people would hear about it. It wouldn't help a bit and it might hurt a lot. Ralph was just stepping in between you both so that there wouldn't be any chance of making this situation any worse than it is," Tad stated.

"Well . . . guess I'll go home," Tom said, his manner sulky. "See you tonight."

His anger cooled, he had to admit to himself that a fight would not have improved an already bad situation. That he and Dawson would some day have to stand up to each other, he had no doubt. But he also knew that this was not the time to brawl with the other boy. He could only guess that Dawson was trying to discredit him in the eyes of Cross, as well as to create an incident that would be talked about in the high school. Being a newcomer, Tom felt that he might not fare too well if a lot of gossip developed as a result of any fist fight. Certainly, he had to confess, any such an event would not help to attract recruits into the squadron. All in all, he had not shown too much sense in allowing Dawson to provoke him; and, grudgingly, he had to agree that Ralph's remark had been deserved. Nonetheless, he was displeased, not only with himself but also, unfairly or not, with Ralph.

Tom was not in a happy frame of mind as he entered the home of Sam Tolliver that evening. He was the last to arrive and found that several of the senior members, including Trabue, Hirsch and Crynes, were present, along with those that Tolliver had invited in the high school that afternoon. To his surprise, Ralph greeted him cordially, as if nothing had happened earlier. Somewhat wondering at the latter's attitude, Tom sat down next to him and waited for the athletic instructor to speak.

It was with a grim expression and tight lips that Tolliver began his remarks.

"Originally I asked you here so that we might talk about some of the things that we're trying to do, as well as to make a few plans for the future, even before we get the squadron started," the instructor declared. "But a couple of hours ago I had a phone call from Dr. Ferris, the principal, telling me that we could not use any of the school facilities for the CAP."

"None at all, sir? Not even weekly meetings for a while?" Gross asked.

"That's right, Ralph. I was told in no uncertain way that we were not to have any more meetings in the school, that I was not to consider the question of fitting courses into the curriculum next year, and that it would be a good idea for me not to associate myself with this business," Tolliver said, his mouth in a taut, straight line.

"So Big Ed is applying the pressure," Nick Crynes drawled.

"Matter of fact," Dick Hirsch declared, "I thought he'd try something before now."

"He did," Tolliver said dryly. "Ask Mr. Carroll about it."

"Oh-ho!" Bill Trabue exclaimed.

"Well, then, it's out in the open. From now on we can expect the worst . . . and we'll probably get it," Crynes said with a humorless laugh.

'Tm sorry, Mr. Tolliver," Ralph Cross said, a worried look on his face. "I kind of thought that he'd . . . well · . . oppose this because of the airport deal. But . . ."

"It's okay, Ralph," Tolliver said in a kindly way. "He's a businessman and he plays the game maybe a little differently than we're used to. But don't worry about it. Let's face up to our job and see what we can do to convince him, as well as other people in town, that we're just trying to do something that's good for Wayfield."

"Okay, sir," Ralph answered quietly, still frowning. "Sam's right," Crynes put in. "Let's see what we have to do and then do it. But before we go any further, let me suggest that we use my hangar for the meetings that you want to have. It'll hold as many people as we have to take care of, and it's not too much out of the way. Besides, it may help to hold even these early meetings out where there're a few signs of aviation. You know, sort of an inspiration.''

"That's good of you, Nick," Tolliver said, throwing a warm glance towards the ex-sergeant. "And unless someone else has a better idea, I'm for it. What do the rest of you think?"

There was a chorus of agreement, after which Tolliver suggested that the next meeting be held at the hangar on the Friday of the following week.

"Now," he said, "as long as that's taken care of, let's consider a few other things. First of all, Tom Carroll's father came up with the idea that we ought to try and find out whether or not this airport is the best site for the housing project that Dawson wants to build. The way he put it, the town needs the housing and Dawson is the only one who can provide it. We shouldn't stand in the way of a project like that unless we can show that there's a better way of getting it done. So, after talking with Tom here about it, I got in touch with Major Boswell, down in Sandeford, and tried to arrange for his outfit to take an aerial photo of Wayfield."

"Good stuff," Hirsch cut in. "Take a picture and then show the folks that there are better locations for the project. Is that the idea?"

"Roughly, yes," Tolliver answered. "But Boswell had to ask some of his friends in the National Guard outfit to do the job, because the CAP isn't equipped to tackle it. Just this evening," he said, turning to Tom, "Boswell phoned me with the answer. The Guard will be delighted to do the job as a routine training assignment."

There was a rumble of pleasure in the group, and Tolliver held up his hand to still the interruption.

"So," he continued, "based on the dope that I passed on to Boswell, the Guard will be flying around here next Saturday, taking a lot of photos. They'll deliver them to Sandeford on Sunday, and the major will fly them over here."

"Say, that gives me an idea," Hirsch said thoughtfully. "You all know Dad Duncan, the town engineer. A year or so ago, he made a survey of Wayfield. It never was made public, and I understand the Town Council studied it and then filed it away somewhere. I wonder if we couldn't ask Dunc's advice about this. Maybe he could help us."

"What if it's bad news?" Trabue asked.

"Better to find it out now than later," Crynes said.

"I agree," Tolliver asserted. "I think we ought to talk to Dunc and find out what he thinks about all this. He might be able to help us a great deal. Dick, will you get in touch with him?"

"Right now," Hirsch said, jumping to his feet and going out into the hall to the telephone.

"Okay, now let's hold that part of it until we hear from Dick. The main idea is to have a look-see at an aerial photo of the town and find out if there are any other places that might be better than the airport. With or without Duncan's help, if we discover that there is a better site, then we can talk to Big Ed about it," Tolliver said.

"Whoa! Wait a minute," Nick Crynes put in. "We'd be putting out heads right in the tiger's mouth, or something like that. If we find that there's a better place, we ought to try and get the Ledger to run the picture and a story. Otherwise Dawson will find some reason to kill the whole thing."

"I agree with Nick," Trabue said.

"I don't know what Nick suggested," Hirsch called out as he re-entered the room, "but I'm for it. Old Dune said he had some dope and that he'd be glad to talk it over with us. Sounded kind of excited, too, when I told him about the picture."

"Good! Then instead of taking the matter up with Dawson, we'll talk about it with Mr. Carroll and with Dad Duncan and find out what the chances are of getting a better location for the project. And we won't talk about it to Dawson. Agreed?" Tolliver said, looking around.

"I know how you feel about Mr. Dawson, sir," Ralph Cross said, "but do you really think he'd turn down the idea of locating his project in a better place?"

"Well, Ralph, let's leave it this way, if you have any doubts: let's first talk it over with Duncan and with Tom's father and then decide whether or not we ought to talk to Mr. Dawson about it. Now, let's move on to the next part of the problem."

"You mean there's more?" Nick asked with mock disbelief.

"You bet there is," Tolliver declared with a grin. "Even if we find a better place to locate the housing project, we'll still have to do a sales job on a lot of people. Dawson may still try to buy the airport. So the problem is, how are we going to sell Wayfield on voting against the sale of the airport to Dawson if he still wants it."

"I've got an idea on that, too," Hirsch cut in.

"You're full of ideas tonight, Dick," Bill Trabue said good-naturedly.

"Tom, you make a note of that remark and tell your dad. Maybe he'll raise my salary," Hirsch replied with a wink.

'Tm going to tell him to cut it, if you don't let us in on this inspiration," Nick said. "What's your idea?"

"This . . . I'm a reporter. I write. So why shouldn't I write about the CAP? I mean, if I can gather enough material for a series of articles for the Ledger, they'll do a lot to sell folks on the outfit. I can break the series up into parts, cover it from a national and local point of view and give the readers a few slants that maybe they don't know about. That is," he added, with a sly glance in the direction of Tom, "if the editor's son can convince my boss that the paper ought to run the series."

"I've already talked to the boss, yours and mine," Tom said cheerfully, "and he said that, once he's convinced that this is right for the community, he'll back it. So if we can do anything with the aerial photos and show him that there's another place for the housing project, then I'm sure that he'll agree that the formation of a squadron would be for the good of the town."

"Fine! That's fine, Dick. I think it would help a lot, especially if it's worked out along the line that Tom just mentioned,'' Tolliver stated. "But in addition, I think we're going to have to do a little campaigning. By that I mean that we're all going to have to get out and talk to people. Now there aren't enough senior members lined up yet to do the job the way it must be done. So it's my suggestion that those cadets who are willing can be formed into teams and assigned a block of people to call on. If they're briefed properly and they hand out some literature that I can get from the CAP, they ought to be able to do a very effective job. I believe that nothing will sell people more than the sincerity of the youngsters that are interested in this thing and who want to see it started. What do you all think of that?"

All except Ralph Cross gave their wholehearted support. When Tolliver noted the look of concern on his face, he turned to him and asked, "Worried about it, Ralph?"

"Not about the others doing it, sir. But it's just as I told Tom, here. I don't think I ought to take part in a campaign like this. It's just that . . . well, sir, it's because of the friendship between my family and the Dawsons. I'm sure my father wouldn't want me to get involved in anything aimed at Mr. Dawson. And there may be others that feel the same way, sir."

"Don't worry about it," Tolliver said quietly. "I think we all understand and I'm sure there will be others that may have the same feeling that you do. I'm sure also that none of us would want anyone to take part in a campaign like this without the consent of his parents and without being convinced that it was the right thing to do."

"Thanks," Ralph said with a grateful look as the others chimed in with similar sentiments.

"Okay, now here's where we stand," Tolliver said. "As soon as we're a little further along, Wing Headquarters will send an officer down here to look over the situation. If we can show that we have enough senior and junior candidates for membership in the CAP and that we really mean business, we'll probably get the authorization to start our squadron.''

"Hear! Hear!" the irrepressible Hirsch sang out.

"Meanwhile," the athletic instructor continued, throwing a mock frown in the reporter's direction, "we have to tackle the job of discovering some other area in which Dawson can erect his housing project."

"If there is such an area," Nick Crynes put in.

"If there is such an area," Tolliver repeated. "We'll get our first crack at that when we see the photos that the Guard Squadron takes on Saturday. Duncan will help us on that part of the job, and I suggest that you, Dick, arrange for Dunc to come to the airport Sunday afternoon. From what Boswell told me, we ought to have the photos here by noon."

"Right! And I think maybe it would be a good idea for Mr. Carroll to be present Sunday, too," Hirsch said.

"Good idea," Tolliver approved. "Tom, will you take care of that?"

"Next," the instructor resumed, after catching Tom's nod, "there is the question of selling the idea to the people of Wayfield, assuming that we locate another area for Dawson and that he still wants to buy the field. Hirsch will write the articles about the CAP. They ought to help a lot. Meantime, I'll ask the Wing Headquarters to let me have some literature that we can distribute in town. We'll organize teams of those cadets that are willing to do some campaigning, brief them thoroughly and get them started on the job. The seniors will have to pitch in, too. Maybe we can arrange for talks at church meetings, clubs and places like that. And we'll all have to explain the CAP whenever we have the chance to do so, for I'm convinced that if enough people understand what this is all about, we'll get all the backing that we need. Now that's about the way I see things. Has anyone got anything to add?"

"What about this Advisory Committee that you were telling me about the other day?" Bill Trabue asked.

"Glad you mentioned it," Tolliver said. "Each cadet squadron is required to have an advisory group called a 'Committee for the CAP Cadet Squadron.' The members are appointed by the Squadron Commander of the senior squadron to which the cadet organization is attached. Now this committee, which consists of at least three members, can do a lot. It helps in selecting the Commandant of Cadets, that is, the adult commander of the cadet outfit. It helps the Commandant in the discharge of his responsibilities. As a matter of fact, it assists in practically all the problems that arise in organizing, training, and conducting operations for the cadets. I've contacted several prominent people in town and I think we'll have a good group when the time comes."

"Do they have to be members of the CAP?" Tad Sullivan asked.

"No, that's not required. What we want are good people who are interested in civic affairs and who see the advantages to a community having a cadet squadron organized on a sound basis."

"Well, it looks to me like everything is shaping up pretty well," Nick observed.

There was a chorus of agreement as the meeting broke up. On his way home, Tom admitted to himself that matters had progressed beyond his fondest hopes. Everything, he told himself, would surely come out all right in the end.