While the young millionaire was sleeping at a neat hotel, after breakfast and a refreshing bath, Ben and his chums were discussing the situation in the little grass bowl into which they had dropped the machines during the dark hours.
Before leaving the Ann, Havens had, as he thought, taken extra precautions for her safety. He had landed on a level surface in the outskirts of the town, and had employed the man in charge of the local garage to supply him with gasoline and at the same time station guards about the machine.
While Havens slept a man who gave every indication of having traveled over a long distance in a short time dashed into the hotel office and up to the counter. The clerk eyed him coolly, as became a clerk having a proper respect for his own dignity.
“Havens!” panted the man. “Is Mr. Havens here?”
“He is!” replied the clerk, readjusting the diamond pin in his neck-scarf. “What do you want of Mr. Havens?”
“I want to see him!” was the panting reply.
“He left orders not to be disturbed!” growled the clerk.
“But he told me to let him know if anything happened to his machine!” insisted the other. “Will you send for him?”
“I will not!” answered the clerk impudently.
“Then I shall have to go to his room!”