“And it is now one o’clock. Is there no way to outwit them?” asked Ben.
“Not in respect to getting ahead of them at Washington,” replied Mr. Pearsons, consulting his watch. “See here, Hardy,” he continued, approaching the dejected inventor, and placing a friendly, encouraging hand on his shoulder, “don’t you be downhearted.”
“It is a pretty bad proposition for me,” said Ben’s father.
“Not altogether. We shall at once follow their claims with our own, and we will fight it through the courts.”
“That is a long and tedious process.”
“It is our only alternative. You go home, don’t worry, and leave this thing to me to untangle. To-morrow come and see me about suing Saxton on those automobile patents. I’m thinking we shall be able to raise a storm about his ears that will keep him awake nights for a spell.”
“Will I be able to get the airship parts to-day?” inquired Mr. Hardy.
“I’ll attend to that,” assured the lawyer.
“I want to get Ben’s monoplane done.”
Mr. Hardy and Ben left the lawyer’s office. As they reached the street, our hero paused. An idea had come into his mind, and he said: