“Do you think the little rascals have taken a machine apiece?” demanded Ben. “There’s no knowing what they will do!”
“No, I don’t,” replied Glenn. “They’d be sure to stick together.”
“Then we’d better hustle up and find who’s taking out the second machine!” exclaimed Ben. “This does look like trouble, doesn’t it?”
“Oh, it may be all right,” smiled Mellen. “The boys may have taken a machine apiece.”
When the party reached the field the second flying machine was some distance away. The driver, however, seemed to be wavering about in the air as if uncertain of his control of the levers. Once or twice in an uncertain current of air the Bertha came near dropping to the ground. In time, however, he gained better control.
One of the native policemen secured by Bixby rushed up to the automobile as it came to a stop. He recognized Mellen in the car and addressed him in Spanish, speaking as if laboring under great excitement.
The boys listened to the conversation very impatiently, noting with no little apprehension the look of anxiety growing on the face of the manager as he listened to the story of the policeman. At length Mellen turned to the boys and began translating what he had heard.
The story told by the policeman was virtually the story told in the last chapter, with the exception that it included the departure of Doran and another in pursuit of the Louise.
“The policeman,” Mellen went on, “is of the opinion that Doran means mischief. He declares that he rather forced himself on Bixby, and was instrumental in securing the absence of the two Englishmen who were to assist him in guarding the aeroplanes.”
“It seems that the trouble arrived shortly after the Havens’ telegram,” suggested Ben. “I wish I knew what it meant.”