“This is station O at Santa Barbara talking,” came through the air to the Motor Rangers’ aerials. “You been trying to get young Bell’s station?”
“Yes, what’s the trouble?” inquired Joe.
“I don’t know exactly, but something was the matter with his wave lengths this morning. He was trying to get you, but couldn’t succeed. But he reached me all right and left a message for you fellows.”
“A message? What is it?” flashed back Joe.
“Here it is,—all ready?”
“Go ahead.”
“Dear Nat and Joe. Don’t worry. I have left Santa Barbara on a hot clew to you know who. I expect to recover everything before night.—Ding-dong.”
“We-el, what do you know about that?” gasped Nat, as Joe said “Good-bye” and cut off.
“That kid is off along the trail of trouble again as sure as you are a foot high,” exclaimed Joe. “Now what are we going to do? Where do you suppose he’s gone?”
“Looks a good deal as if he might have found out something about Minory, doesn’t it, and is anxious to keep all the credit of recovering the plans and the models to himself,” commented Nat.