“I wish we knew exactly where the fellows intend to land,” Jimmie said as the boys paused in their progress toward the camp-fire.
“Yes,” Carl answered, shouting until he was red in the face, “we ought to be right on the spot in order to give them an appropriate reception.”
“They’ve got their nerve, anyway!” Jimmie exclaimed. “They steal our machine and then they bring it right back!”
“Perhaps they just borrowed it for a joy-ride!” chuckled Carl.
“These fellows don’t look like joy-riders,” Jimmie argued. “They look like men who are here for some definite purpose.”
“They must think they’ve got us backed off the board,” Carl suggested, “or they wouldn’t think of bringing the machine back to the place from which they stole it.”
The Louise came steadily on, flying rather close to the ground. As it came nearer the boys saw that the seats were occupied by three men.
“That accounts for their keeping in the heavy air next to the ground,” Jimmie explained. “I don’t believe they can make the summit with that load! They must have thrown off a lot of supplies in order to coax the old machine into carrying three.”
The machine passed over the camp-fire and proceeded toward the summit, passing almost directly over the boys as they crouched down in the gully.
This gully was little better than a wrinkle on the slope of the mountain. It began at the summit and terminated at the shelf where the camp-fire had been built. At some distant day a great boulder or a glacier had started at the top and cut this trail to the shelf.