“We could disprove that easily enough,” suggested Ned. “There’s only the one doctor and we could ask him.”
“We don’t need to,” Jerry declared. “I saw both his legs and there wasn’t a scratch on them.”
“It doesn’t seem as if we’d ever get to the bottom of this,” sighed Ned. “I’m plumb discouraged about that and the professor. Had a letter from dad to-day and he wanted to know how we were making out. I hate to tell him, on top of sending word about the latest cattle raid.”
“How much longer did Mr. Watson say he’d wait before sending word?” Jerry queried.
“The last of the week. Saturday was the last chance he could give us,” he said. “He has to fix up his monthly accounts then and he’s got to make some report of the missing cattle. So, boys, we’ve got a few days more to make good.”
“It isn’t long,” suggested Bob, dolefully.
“It’ll be our first failure in a long while,” Ned admitted.
“And I’m not going to let it be a failure!” cried Jerry, eagerly.
“What are you going to do?” asked his chums. Somehow they always looked to the tall lad in an emergency, and one seemed to have arrived now.
“We’re going up in the airship,” said Jerry. “It’s a pity we couldn’t have used her more for this business as we would have except for the accident to the wheel. But from now on we’ll use our own little old machine. We’ll start to-morrow morning.”