“Go to the secretary’s office,” directed Mr. Morton. “He can tell us where Axtell’s ship is located.”
The present employer of the much-wanted Masterly had a tent at the far end of the exhibition grounds, and thither the auto was directed. Mr. Glassford was the first one to leap out, and he saw, standing at the flap of the tent, a stout man with very black hair.
“Mr. Axtell?” he asked.
“That’s my name.”
“I’m looking for an old employee of mine named Masterly, who, I understand, works for you.”
“Well, what of it? You can’t go hiring him away from me at this late day. I need him to help me to get my ship in shape. I’m going to win the long distance prize.”
“I don’t want him to come and work for me,” replied Mr. Glassford with a smile. “I merely want him to make a certain affidavit. I’m in trouble about my airship, and he is the only one who can help me out.”
“That’s different,” declared Mr. Axtell, when the matter had been explained to him. “Go in and talk to Masterly. But he has a visitor already.”
“A visitor? Who?” asked Jerry.
“I don’t know. A young fellow. Came about half an hour ago. Said he wanted to see Masterly on very important business.”