"A new kind of aeroplane," Chet prompted, gently but with an unusual light in his eye.
"Yes. And this was its—trial flight," the old man said with a world of bitterness in his voice. "The engine exploded. I guess it shows that I'm pretty much of a failure—in every way."
"I don't see why," cried Billie, her warm heart eager to give him comfort. "There may have been just some little thing the matter that you—What's that?"
"That" was the sound of running feet and a crackling of bushes, and the next minute two men burst out into the clearing. They were red of face and breathless, and when they saw the old man and the wrecked machine they stood stock still and stared in consternation.
With a start the girls and boys recognized the men as those whom they had met in the woods that other day not so long ago—the men who had so curtly ordered them to "go the other way."
So the corn story was a fish story after all, and the old inventor's vain attempt to make a new kind of flying machine was the key to all the mystery!
"Are you very much hurt, Dad?" cried the younger of the two men, leaning anxiously over the old man. Again the young folks were startled. So one of the bearded men was the old man's son!
"All in, Son, I guess," answered the old man. With a sigh he laid his hand over his left side and whispered: "I'm all smashed to pieces. The engine exploded."
"Well, let's see about that," said the second of the two men, pushing the younger aside and beginning to rip open the old man's shirt.
Up to that time neither of the men had thrown a glance in the direction of the wondering boys and girls—in fact they gave every impression of not having seen them at all.