“He certainly is!” answered Stroup. “Go faster!”
“I’ll do that,” agreed the driver, “because I think there’s something doing out there.”
As the lumbering old vehicle drew away, lurching from side to side as the horses ran at full speed, the crowd forming in front of the hotel took to the middle of the street and followed on in hot pursuit, shouting at the top of their lungs. Stroup eyed the procession grimly.
“At any rate,” he said, “we’re taking the right course to bring all the officers in the city to the field where the machine lies.”
“I hope they’ll get there before any mischief is done,” said Havens. “But look here,” he went on, “what was the trouble at the hotel? What was that fellow arresting you for?”
“Why, he wouldn’t let me up to your room,” explained Stroup, “and I shook him up a little. It is funny, the way his bones rattled as I dumped him over in a corner of the room.”
“You’ll probably have a fine to pay,” Havens suggested, “but I’ll see that it doesn’t cost you anything.”
“It’s worth a ten-dollar note to get your clutches on a puppy like that!” said Stroup angrily. “He knew very well that my business was important, for he had heard talk about trouble at the machine, and yet he wanted to show his own importance at your expense.”
As the ’bus rolled and swayed down the street, it was followed by a motley procession of hacks, delivery wagons, and private carriages. When at last the aviator came in sight of the field where his machine had been left he saw that it still lay on the ground.
“It’s there yet, all right!” shouted Stroup. “I guess we didn’t get here any too soon, however!”