“Good heavens,” exclaimed Ralph. “I’ll bet you’ve got the solution.”
“I only wish I had,” smiled Tim, shaking his head. “When I first saw those marks the day after the burning of the timber along the railroad right-of-way I thought of an autogyro. When I looked up their capabilities I found that they wouldn’t fit into the picture. No, Ralph, it’s not an autogyro.”
“But whatever makes those marks must help them to escape,” said Ralph.
“We can only guess at that,” Tim warned him. “Those marks might, just possibly, be coincidence and not be connected with the bandits.”
“You’ll never make me believe that,” said Ralph.
“And I probably never will myself,” conceded Tim, “but I’m not going to take anything for granted. We’re up against something that is going to test our brains and our nerves to the utmost.”
The young reporters continued their search but after half an hour had discovered nothing which would aid them.
“We’d better get back to our plane and report where we found the bandit car,” said Tim.
“All right,” agreed Ralph, “but before we do I want to take a final look at the wreck of their machine. It’s cooled off somewhat and I’d like to look it over. There may be some marks on the body that will give us a clue.”
The wind had been rising steadily and was whipping through the underbrush, whining a symphony all its own. Then the young reporters caught a sudden alarming smell of smoke and heard the crackling of flames.