[CHAPTER VII]
A TRACE OF MR. BELL
The boys were not long in assuring themselves that their airship had suffered no material damage. The lifting gas, which was contained in the big bag, had simply leaked away, and of course Noddy and Jack Pender did not know how to make any more. In consequence of this they had been obliged to use the craft simply as an aeroplane, the dirigible balloon feature being eliminated. They were evidently not enough skilled in aeronautics to keep the craft constantly in motion, and so it had descended in the field, one of the planes, and a deflecting rudder, being broken, but not beyond repair.
“Those fellows certainly lived high while they were aboard,” grumbled Bob, after a visit to the storeroom. “They have wasted as much stuff as they ate.”
“And I suppose that worries you,” suggested Jerry, with a smile. “Never mind, Chunky, as long as we have our airship back we won’t complain.”
“Not after the way you licked Noddy,” added Ned. “I was wishing I could have a hand in it, but you finished him off too quick for me.”
“Yes, I fancy he’ll remember it for a few hours,” put in the chief of police. “Well, boys,” he added, “is there anything I can do for you? Do you want me to make a search for this Nixon fellow and the other one, or for this Mr. Bell? Is he a criminal, too?”
“Oh, no, he is a very good friend of ours,” Jerry hastened to say. “He is an old man, who once was a sort of hermit out West, near a lost lake that very few persons knew about. We found him and restored a long-lost son to him. But we have not seen him since. Accidentally we learned that he was with these two bullies in the airship, though why we don’t exactly know. But we certainly don’t want him arrested, though he seems to have disappeared.”
There was no doubt of it. Jackson Bell was not in the craft, though whether he had recently left, or had gone some time before the arrival of the three chums, was impossible to say.
“Well, if I can’t do anything for you I think I’ll go back to town,” went on the chief.