“The machine not there!” shouted Havens leaping for the door.
When he reached the porch in front of the little hotel he missed Stroup and looked back. The garage man stood in front of the clerk and the house detective who were attempting to place him under arrest for the assault recently committed.
Enraged at the delay the young man hastened back into the hotel office.
“What’s the trouble here?” he demanded.
The whiskey-faced man standing beside the clerk tapped a brass badge on the lapel of his coat significantly.
“I’m the house detective!” he declared.
“Glad to know you!” answered Havens. “What’s up?”
“I’m arresting this man for assault and battery, and for resisting an officer. He’s committed an outrageous attack on the clerk.”
Stroup passed an inquiring glance at the millionaire, and Havens quietly amused yet still anxious, gave a slight nod.
The next instant the maul-like fist of the garage man shot out with lightning rapidity, and the clerk and the house detective tumbled over on the floor. Before the clerk could straighten his necktie, or the house detective staunch the flow of blood from his nose, Havens and Stroup were well out of the house and on their way toward the threatened flying machine, both looking rather sober.