"Then, for goodness' sake won't you tell me what they have cut notches out of their speed for; because I'm all balled up, and blessed if I can think of another thing! Oh! look at that, Frank! Sure as anything I saw a puff of smoke then. There must be something the matter with their engine, and they're getting scared. I wouldn't be surprised a mite to see them settle right away, and try to land."
"Well, you saw smoke all right, and if you'd listened sharp, you'd have heard a sassy little bark at the same time, Andy."
"A what, Frank?"
"Call it a snarl, then. Take up your glasses, Andy, and look; while I drop out even a little more of our speed, so we'll fall back further."
Hardly had Andy clapped the glasses to his eyes than he gave vent to an exclamation of mingled amazement and alarm.
"That greenhorn is looking this way, Frank, and as sure as goodness he's pointing at us right now. Oh! he did something then, for I saw another puff of smoke, and it came right from his hand. Why, he's shooting at us, Frank! That must be a gun he's got in his hand, and he's trying to hit us! If our motor didn't keep up such a constant whirl we might have heard the whine of that lead when it went singing past us!"
"Yes, perhaps we might," Frank went on to say, composedly.
"But what can we do?" demanded the other, nervously.
"Nothing more than decrease our own speed as often as they do, and play the game of tag backwards. If they get going it too strong, why, just as I said before, I'll turn tail, and head back toward Bloomsbury, daring them to follow, which you can be sure they won't, because our town is a mighty unhealthy place just now for Casper Blue and his pal. There! he fired again."
"That makes three times he's tried it, Frank!"