CHAPTER XXIII. A Mysterious Door.
"How do you do!" greeted Ned, pleased to recognize their friend. He stepped forward and extended his hand, which the other grasped firmly.
"Your young friend?" queried the other. "Is he hurt badly?"
In a few words, Ned outlined the circumstances following the breakfast. He told of Jimmie's fall from the low-flying monoplane, of his striking a small tree which broke the force of his fall, and of his crashing through the roofed-over trench. The rest of the story was supplied by their captor, who seemed greatly interested in Jimmie's welfare.
"Bring him inside," commanded the officer. "We will provide comforts for him without delay, although this is far from being a hospital."
"I can walk all right," protested Jimmie. "I'm only shaken up and tired out! Ned's system of 'setting up' exercises has kept us as hard as nails, and aside from being shaken to pieces, I'm all right!"
Smiling at the exhibition of grit, the officer helped Jimmie to his feet and then guided him through a nearby door. The little party was conducted to what had evidently been a luxurious bed chamber in the rambling building, which was half chateau, half castle.
Here stood a giant four poster bed with a great canopy, and into this Jimmie was tumbled after his shoes had been pulled off by his chums.