The incident to which Andy referred was related at length in the preceding volume of this series, "The Bird Boys; or, The Young Sky Pilots' First Air Voyage," and had created a ten days' sensation in the quiet little lake town of Bloomsbury.
Two rogues had robbed the extensive jewelry establishment of Mr. Leffingwell and carried off the loot in a couple of suit cases taken from the store. Unable to get clear away on account of a quick chase, they had hidden in the vicinity of the town. One of them, named Jules, had been an aviator at some time in his near past over in France, and learning that the Bird boys had built a monoplane, which was even then ready for a flight, they had attempted to steal the same, with the intention of giving their pursuers, who were hunting the woods for them, the laugh.
But their well laid plans were spoiled through the vigilance of the Bird boys and the quick wit of Frank in particular. The consequence was that both men were eventually captured by Chief Waller and his officers and still languished in the town lock-up, awaiting the day of trial.
"Oh, well!" laughed Frank, as his cousin wheeled his bike out to the front gate, where he could mount better, "it makes mighty little difference, because, from what I've seen of Shea, I imagine he sleeps on his post. I'm glad we didn't let him inside, because, like all Irishmen, he is fond of his pipe and might have set fire to the shed. It's dangerous smoking where there's a lot of gasoline about."
"Of course we've got that Puss Carberry and his mean crony, Sandy Hollingshead, to consider. They tried to injure our machine once and might again, especially after what happened today," said Andy, throwing one leg over his saddle and standing there a minute.
"Oh, I guess not, Andy. They understand that we're keeping tabs of that hangar, with its precious contents. Besides, they've got their hands full of other matters, if what Puss said about that big trip to the Amazon country is true."
The other sighed.
"I only wish I was as sure of going down there as Puss seems to be," he observed. "I don't know how it is, but something queer seems to be drawing me that way. Day and night I have pictures rising in my mind. I've read every scrap concerning the Isthmus and northern coast of South America, until I guess I'm as well posted on such things as one who had been there."
"Yes," said Frank, softly, "and I'm afraid you let your mind dwell too much on that subject, old chum. It's more than a year now since your father disappeared. And the chances of your ever finding what became of him are like searching for a lost diamond in the sand of the seashore. It's affecting your mind, Andy. You look all fagged out. I wish you could cheer up and be something like your old self."
But the other only shook his head sadly.