The constable drew out his revolver and began firing into the air. He might as well have fired at the moon as at Ned. The aeroplane dwindled swiftly to a winged blot, then to a speck, and, finally, vanished altogether.
"I'll swear out a warrant for him!" shouted the manager.
"Well, don't do any more swearing, then," warned the constable, "er I'll arrest you fer usin' profane langwidge. I've lost two prisoners, an' I've got ter lock up somebody."
Luckily, at that moment, a small boy was captured as he was creeping under the canvas. In the act of giving him a sound spanking, the irate group left behind found some salve for their wounded feelings. Luminetti raved and tore his hair. The manager promised to wreak dire vengeance on Ned as soon as he got hold of him. As for the populace, when the story leaked out, some of them, among these being Sam, were so unfeeling as to laugh heartily. As for the quartermaster, he at once set about to report the constable to all the authorities in the United States, from the president down.
In the meantime, what of Ned?
If any of our readers imagine that he took the aeroplane on purpose, they are mistaken. What seemed like a cleverly executed plan of escape was, in reality, the result of an accident, pure and simple, but a fortunate one, as it proved.
When Ned had placed his foot on the starting pedal, to his astonishment the bit of machinery refused to budge. He pressed harder, and, suddenly something snapped. The next instant Ned felt himself being hurtled forward over the ground.
To prevent the aeroplane plunging into a tent or wagon and being wrecked, he had resorted to the only mode of procedure possible. He had set the rising planes.
Instantly the aeroplane responded. Behind him Ned could hear shouts and cries, and guessed that those he had left behind were imagining he was attempting to escape.