"First of all, it would be a bad business, because he's on his guard, and a desperate man," Frank went on to explain. "You can see that he's ready to pull out a weapon of some sort at the first warning. And we settled that we didn't want to fall into the hands of these two bad men. So we'll have to arrange things along a different line. And anyhow there's no terrible hurry, because I rather guess they've got the biplane hidden some distance away from here. It would take half an hour, perhaps much more, before they could get out. And we can reach our craft in a few minutes, if pushed."
"Yes, that's all so, Frank; but go on, and tell me the rest."
"I was thinking that we ought to try and let our folks know how things are going with us, so that if we have to cut out after these yegg aviators they'll know where we've gone. Suppose, now, you hunt Sallie up, and try to explain it all to her just as fast as you can."
"Who, me? Oh! well, I guess I can do it, if I have to. But what will you be doing all that time, Frank?"
"I want to write a message to either your father, or else Judge Lawson, whichever she can get on the phone," replied the other, immediately hunting in his pockets for pencil and paper, which he made it a habit to carry around with him always.
"She—say, do you mean Sallie, Frank?"
"No other. You must coax her to saddle up a horse, and make for the nearest neighbor where they've got a phone; get that, Andy?"
"But do you think she will?" asked the other, dubiously.
"I'm dead sure of it," came the confident reply. "Sallie has a touch of romance in her make-up; and besides, shell be so mad to think of that man deceiving her mother that she'll want to have him caught. Get along with you, now, Andy, and fix it all up inside of ten minutes. I'll have the message written out by that time, so she can start, if there's such a thing as any kind of a horse around this wreck of a farm."
And so Andy, glad at least to have something to do, hurried toward the house to look for the country girl.