“Why, yes,” rejoined Merritt, “but what has that to do——”
“Everything,” exclaimed Rob, cutting him short; “come on, boys. My dad’s car is just up the street. We’ve got to take after those fellows and have them arrested. They’ve got valuable papers.”
“Rob! They’ve stolen the airship plans?” gasped Tubby, guessing what had happened.
“That’s right. But come on,” exclaimed Rob, frantically tugging at his chum’s coat-sleeves. Leaving the others behind with orders to telephone to the various villages about, to apprehend the robbers if they appeared there, the boy, followed by his chums, made for his automobile which, it will be recalled, he had left a short distance up the street. A few turns of the crank and a quick snap as spark and gasolene were turned on, and then a quick dash round the corner into H street and a flying leap down the country road leading into the turnpike to New York!
“Do you think we’ll catch them, Rob?” asked. Tubby, bending forward eagerly.
“Don’t know,” was the rejoinder; “we don’t even know that they have gone this way. We can only guess at it and hope we are right.”
On and on flew the auto through the night, past sleeping villages, through lonely patches of road where dark woods grew right up to the sides of the road, up hills and down steep grades, but still no sight of the auto they were pursuing.
Suddenly, as they topped a small rise, Tubby gave a shout. Below them, and not more than a quarter of a mile off, they could see the gleam of a tail lamp.
“It’s an auto!” exclaimed Merritt, “but is it the right one?”
The boys, except Rob, who was at the wheel, arose to their feet in their excitement as they drew nearer the car ahead, which appeared to be stationary.