Then there would be a
high old mix-up, with Puss in the right for once."
It did not take him long to deliver both messages. He saw a mechanic
start off to tackle the disabled runabout for the doctor, so he could
carry out his round of morning visits by ten o'clock. And then a
chauffeur ran a car out of the garage into which he invited Frank to
jump.
When they arrived at police headquarters the chief was awaiting
them. Evidently he was not at all averse to this delightful spin across
country on a fine July morning and with nothing to pay. Official
business might sometimes prove worth cultivating.
Presently they were off. Frank, of course, knew every rod of the way. He
had more than a few times made the trip over to Shelby on his wheel in
company with Andy. And since they had taken to the air they had looked
down upon that road for miles, as they whirled along hundreds of feet
up, discovering features about the landscape that they had never dreamed
of before they had this "bird's-eye view," as Andy delighted to call it,
playing upon their own name.
In due time they reached Shelby and drew up in front of the building
where the police held forth. The first one to meet their eyes as they
entered was a familiar figure seated in a chair and attended by a doctor
and a couple of officers.
"It's Jules, sure enough!" said Frank, as, despite the many bandages
about the head of the man, he recognized the dapper little French
aviator with whom he had had more or less trouble in the past.
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