“I’m willing,” agreed the farmer. “I never would have believed such nice gentlemen could be robbers. They told such a straight story. And I saw them fall from their airship. So when I saw you arrive in yours I thought you were from the asylum after them, and I tried to get you away from the barn.”
“Just confront them with us, and we’ll soon prove that the story they told you was all made-up,” said Jerry eagerly.
“All right, come on,” agreed Mr. Rossmore. “I don’t want to do nothing wrong.”
Again there came that terrifying yell.
“My gracious! What’s that?” gasped the professor.
“That’s Mr. Hendrix—the supposed lunatic. He is badly hurt, and delirious from pain,” explained Mr. Rossmore. “His friend and I have to give him quieting medicine whenever he gets one of those fits. That’s why I ran here. He is suffering greatly.”
“Well, we can’t let even a bank burglar suffer,” said the scientist, to whom Jerry quickly explained what the farmer had told them. “I’ll take a look at him, and you boys can make sure you are not mistaken in your identity. Then we can decide on what to do. They can’t get away.”
With the farmer leading the way the boys and the professor entered the harness room. If any other confirmation was needed that the suspicions of our heroes were true, it came when Clark, alias Black, exclaimed as he caught sight of the boys:
“Well, the jig is up!”
“Yes, I guess it is,” said Jerry grimly. “You made a bold effort, but fate was against you. Where is the money?”