“I wish we knew where to find Havens at this time,” mused Mellen.
“I don’t think it will be possible to reach him until he wires again,” Ben answered, “because, unless I am greatly mistaken, he is somewhere between New Orleans and this point in his airship, the Ann.”
“I gathered as much from his messages to Bixby,” replied Mellen. “You see,” the manager went on, “I got in touch with Havens to-night through the despatches he sent to Bixby yesterday, I say ‘yesterday’ because it is now ‘to-morrow’,” he added with a smile.
“Then you knew we were here?” asked Ben. “That is,” he corrected himself, “you knew Bixby was expecting us?”
“When Bixby left you at the hotel,” Mellen laughed, “he came direct to the telegraph office, so you see I knew all about it before I burglarized your room.”
“Bixby strikes me as being a very straightforward kind of a man,” Ben suggested. “I rather like his appearance.”
“He’s all right!” replied Mellen.
“And now,” Ben continued, “I’d like to have you remain here a short time until I can call the other boys and get a general expression of opinion.”
“Of course you’ll wait for Mr. Havens?” suggested Mellen.
“Of course,” answered Ben. “However,” he continued, “I’d like to have the other members of the party talk this matter over with you. To tell the truth, I’m all at sea over this suggestion of trouble.”