CHAPTER XII.
THE FINDING OF THE "BUTTERFLY."
"Well, what next?" asked Jimsy.
"Make a search of those woods, I suppose," replied Roy; "there's nothing else to do."
"No, the trail has brought us here," replied Peggy energetically; "we must make a determined effort to find the Butterfly."
"Maybe they've damaged it so that we won't be able to do anything with it when we do get it," spoke Jimsy presently.
"Whom do you mean by they?" asked Roy.
"As if you didn't know. Is there any doubt in your mind that that fellow Cassell is at the bottom of all this?"
"Not very much, I'll admit," replied Roy; "I wonder if that accounts for the inactivity of the police."
"In just what way?"
"Well, the fellow's a local politician and has a lot of 'pull'."
"He must have, to get away with anything like this," was Jimsy's indignant outburst.
"Well, don't let us waste time speculating," put in Peggy, in her brisk manner; "the thing to do now is to get back the Golden Butterfly."
"You're right, Peg," came from both boys.
By this time they were out of the car, which they left standing at the roadside while they examined the vicinity for tracks. But the grass in the field was fairly long and no traces remained. Yet, inasmuch as the tracks of the Butterfly ended at the gap in the hedge, it was manifest that that was the point at which it had been wheeled off the road.
"What next?" asked Jimsy, as it became certain that there was little use in searching for a trail in the meadow.
"It's like looking for a needle in that proverbial haystack," struck in Peggy.
"In my opinion we need the patience of Job and the years of old Methuselah," opined Jimsy.
Roy alone was not discouraged.
"It can't be so very far off," he urged; "it stands to reason that they can't have come much further than this since midnight, supposing the machine to have been stolen about that hour."
The others agreed with him.
"We'll search all around here, including those woods," declared Peggy.
"Well, they can't have taken it very far into the woods," declared Jimsy; "the spread of its wings would prevent that."
"That's so," agreed Roy; "I think we are getting pretty 'warm' right now."
"All I am afraid of is that they may have damaged it," breathed Peggy anxiously.
"It would be in line with their other tactics," agreed Roy; "men who would try to burn down a stable with two boys in it, just to obtain revenge for a fancied insult or injury, are capable of anything."
Without further waste of time they crossed the meadow and came to the edge of the wood. At the outskirts of the woods the trees grew thinly and it was plain that it would have been possible to wheel an aëroplane into their shadow, despite the breadth of its wing-spread.
They passed under the outlying trees and presently emerged into a small, open space, in the midst of which was a hut. Just beyond this hut was a sight that caused them to shout aloud with joy. There, apparently unharmed, stood the missing aëroplane.
"Hurray!" shouted Roy, dashing forward.
The others were close on his heels. In their excitement they paid little or no attention to the surroundings. It might have been better for them had they done so. As they dashed across the clearing two male figures slipped off among the thicker trees that lay beyond the open space and the hut.
A brief examination showed them that the aëroplane was undamaged. There were a few scratches on it, but beyond that it appeared in perfect condition.
"We'll fly back," declared Jimsy to Peggy; "Roy can run the auto home."
"That's agreeable to me," responded Roy; "but suppose we examine the vicinity first. We might get a clew as to the rascals who are responsible for this."
"That's true," agreed Jimsy.
"Then suppose we start with the hut first."
They accepted this proposition eagerly. The hut was a substantial looking building with a padlock on the door. But the portal stood wide open, the padlock hanging in a hasp.
"What if anyone pounces on us?" asked Peggy in rather a scared tone.
"No fear of that," replied Roy, "the place is plainly unoccupied."
They entered the hut and found it to be as primitive inside as its exterior would indicate. A table and two rude chairs stood within. These, with the exception of a rusty cook stove in one corner, formed the sole furnishings. There was not even a window in the place.
"Nothing much to be found here," declared Roy after a cursory examination; "I guess this shack was put up by lumbermen or hunters. It doesn't seem to have been occupied for a long time."
"I guess the men who took the aëroplane must have been pretty familiar with the place though," opined Jimsy.
"No doubt of that," replied Roy, "but that doesn't give us any clew to their identity beyond bare suspicions."
"Yes, and suspicions aren't much good in law," chimed in Peggy, "they—Good gracious!"
The door closed suddenly with a bang. Before Jimsy could spring across the room to open it there came a sharp click.
"Somebody's padlocked it on the outside!" he cried.
"And we're prisoners!" gasped Peggy.
"Yes, and without any chance of getting out, either," declared Jimsy; "there's not even a window in the place."
"Well this is worse and more of it," cried Roy. "Who can have done that?"
"The same people that stole the Golden Butterfly," declared Peggy. "Hark!"
Outside they heard rapidly retreating footsteps, followed by a harsh laugh.
"Let us out!" shouted Roy.
"You can stay there till judgment day, for all I care," came back a hoarse, rasping voice; "you kids were too fresh, and now you're getting what's coming to you."