He had barely reached the confluence of Solomon Creek with Nannabijou River when the motor went dead.
Fortunately, by skillful manipulation of the planes, he was enabled to glide safely down over the timbered sides of the mountain to the cleared area just above Nannabijou camps.
His plane was soon surrounded by wondering groups of camp workers from among whom there strode a member of the mounted force. He leaned close as Hammond was getting out of the machine.
“Inspector Little would like you to go down to his quarters at once, Mr. Hammond,” he said. “I will see that your machine is taken care of.”
III
The inspector’s genial smile and hearty handshake did much to revive Hammond’s drooping spirits over his nonsuccess in finding trace of Miss Stone. “Mighty glad to see you back safe and sound, old man,” he offered. “Find any clues up there as to the whereabouts of the young lady?”
Briefly Hammond gave a verbal report of his discoveries, adding that he was convinced Josephine was still held prisoner somewhere up in the Cup.
The inspector sat for a few moments in a brown study. “H’mph, that’s interesting at any rate,” he finally spoke up. “Your findings seem to bear out what I have already learned from other quarters.”
“I’d like to return and finish the investigation as soon as I can get the old bus in working order,” suggested Hammond.
“No, I couldn’t approve of that,” decided the inspector. “With that balky machine it would be too risky, and besides, it might give warning to the gang we’re after if they did not succeed in capturing you or doing you actual bodily harm.”