“There’s my answer,” said Tom promptly.
As he spoke he extended the key to the trap door.
“No,” dissented Bill, “I don’t need that, but thank you just the same. The fellows I’ve got a tip about won’t get as far as the tower.”
“You won’t hurt anybody, Bill?” questioned Tom gravely, with a glance at the shotgun.
“No, but I’ll teach them a lesson they won’t forget for a long time to come,” was Bill Barber’s significant reply.
[CHAPTER XVIII—THE TOY BALLOONS]
“There’s another one—that makes six.”
“Six what, Ben?”
“Balloons.”
Tom walked to the window where Ben had been sitting, looked at the sky, made out a tiny blue dot sailing aerially seawards, and observed: