IN SEARCH OF A CLUE.
"Heigho! what's all this fuss and feathers about?" demanded the old
retired traveler, as he came limping along, with his crutch and cane.
Several neighbors accompanied him, having been aroused by the clamor.
"Same old story, sir," remarked the disgusted Andy, still clutching his
bruised toe tenderly. "They've been trying to beat us one way, if they
couldn't another."
Frank gave him a nudge.
"Be careful what you say, Andy," he remarked. "There is no proof as yet
that any one we knew had a hand in this business. You may get in trouble
if you mention names offhand. Go slow now. We'll find out the truth
later on, perhaps."
So Andy, taking heed, managed to tell what had happened without directly
accusing any one. Nevertheless, it was not difficult for those who
listened to guess where his suspicions lay. And perhaps they thought,
after all that had occurred in the past, with the hand of Puss Carberry
moving the pieces on the chessboard, that Andy was justified in
believing as he did.
After a while the excitement died away. The boys had opened the shed
and made sure that no lingering spark remained to threaten their beloved
little aeroplane with destruction. But it was all right and they
feasted their eyes on it, as if they never before realized how precious
it had become.
"Getting to be a regular thing, seems to me, these night alarms, boys,"
remarked one of the neighbors, for not long before they had been aroused
in the middle of the night when the two jewelry thieves tried to steal
the aeroplane and were baffled in their design by the two boys, sleeping
at the time in the shed, so as to guard their flying machine.
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