the
hour of nine
He had been very explicit and painstaking in questioning the moving picture man . He had made inquiries concerning Anseton and its vicinity down to the smallest detail . From all this Dave had decided on a permanent landing place , a sort of headquarters from which he could branch out in his personal investigations in the day time and sally forth on an air hunt in the dark . The aviators could distinctly hear a bell in some tower tolling the hour of nine as they circled a busy city that lay beyond and below , them , a blur of light . Dave at the levers kept the Monarch II at a fair height , constantly scanning an expanse to the north dotted only here and there with lights . Once past the outskirts of the city he turned due north . `` Why , hello ! ''