“I don’t think it will do any good,” replied Andy. “The chap that was flying this machine undoubtedly took to his parachute. He may have landed some miles away. If the controls were locked before he jumped, the ship could have cruised alone for three or four minutes on a quiet night like this.”
“We’ll have a look anyway,” said the sheriff, and Andy and Timms decided to remain at least until noon to see if the searching parties discovered anything of importance.
They returned to Alden, took a room at the hotel, and slept until dawn. Andy went out to the field where they had landed and went over the Ace carefully while Timms accompanied the sheriff into the hills.
The secret service agent returned at noon and announced that the search had proved fruitless. There were no more clues, either at the scene of the wreck or in the nearby hills, and they decided to return to Bellevue at once.
Andy got the Ace off the improvised airport without trouble and they headed for home through the bright rays of the spring sun. As they sped over the tree-covered hills, Andy flew mechanically, his mind busy on the new problem which confronted them. There was no question now. The Goliath was in serious danger and every means at their command must be used to protect the great airship, destruction of which would mean the ruin of the National Airways, which had invested millions in its construction. But more than the mere financial loss which it would mean was the month of labor by the loyal crew, the years of planning on the part of his father and Captain Harkins, and his own love for the great craft.
An attack from the air was improbable for the Rubanian agent had wrecked his own plane deliberately. Whatever happened would be caused by someone who had easy access to the hangar and Andy resolved that he would be doubly vigilant in the days to come.
CHAPTER VI
The Night Alarm
When Andy taxied the Ace across the field at Bellevue and up to the concrete apron, he found Bert waiting for him. The radio operator was nearly bursting with curiosity to learn what Andy and the secret service chief had found at Alden.
“Control yourself, Bert, control yourself,” grinned Andy as he hoisted himself out of the cockpit and slid to the ground.
“You can’t blame me for being curious,” replied Bert, “when I’ve been marooned here for the last twelve hours while you’ve been chasing excitement all over southeastern Kentucky.”