“We telegraphed you, asking you to do that,” went on the widow’s son. “The chaps who stole it may take a notion to keep on with it, after they get it fixed.”
“I never got that second telegram,” said the police officer. “I’m sorry. But I’ll go right out with you now, and do all I can to help you get it back. Stealing airships, eh? What will happen next, I wonder?”
It was with anxious hearts that the three chums, accompanied by the chief, drove out in the auto to the field where the _Comet_ was supposed to be. Would it still be there, or had Noddy and Jack managed to repair it, and continue their flight? These were questions that each of the three lads asked himself.
“Did you see the airship?” asked Jerry, of the chief.
“Yes, I went out to take a look at it yesterday afternoon, when I got your message,” replied the official. “But as you didn’t say that it was stolen, I didn’t take any action. I supposed you were only one of the owners interested in seeing how far it had traveled.”
“Well, there were two young fellows, and an old man. And the old man didn’t seem to know much about airships. He was very quiet, but the two young men were quarreling between themselves as to who was responsible for the accident. It seems they lost the gas from the bag, and in coming down they broke one of the wings, if that’s what you call ’em.”
“I guess you mean one of the side planes,” spoke Jerry. “Well, if that’s all the damage, we can soon fix it. So Mr. Bell is still with them, eh? But we’ll soon explain matters to him, and I guess he won’t want anything more to do with Noddy Nixon and Jack Pender.”
The auto swung around a bend in the road. The storm had ceased, and the weather was fine. As the boys looked off to the right they saw, glittering in the sun, in a big field, a shape that was familiar to them. Bob uttered a cry.
“There she is!” shouted Ned enthusiastically.
“And not so badly damaged as I feared,” added Jerry as his eyes took in the outlines of the airship.
“Better leave the auto here,” suggested the chief. “That meadow is soft, after the rain, and you’ll sink in.”
They dismounted from the car, and eagerly ran across the field toward the airship, the chief following more slowly.
“There was quite a crowd out to see it yesterday,” the official remarked, “but one of the boys, Pixon or Snixon I think his name was,--he acted so mean, and talked of shooting anyone who came too close,--that the crowd thought it would be healthier to keep away. Then, too, he said the gas was dangerous, and might kill people.”