"Well, if not Puss, who, then?" demanded Andy, aggressively.
"I confess that I don't know at this minute," admitted Frank. "But I hope to discover the truth in some way. Remember how that other time, when some one tried to injure us by sneaking in here and cutting the canvas wings of our monoplane all to flinders, I picked up a playing card and we afterwards traced it to the owner?
"Yes," cried the other, instantly, "and wasn't that party Puss Carberry all right?"
"It sure was," laughed Frank. "But forget this thing for now. Perhaps tomorrow we may be able to find some clue that will tell which way the wind blows—it might be the print of a shoe in the earth or something like that. Lots of ways to pick up information, if only you keep your wits at work."
"Yes," returned Andy, "and if it's Frank Bird who's doing the thinking. But perhaps it would be silly in me sleeping out here tonight. I'd better be traipsing back to bed right now, because, you see, I'm only half dressed and it's chilly."
"Good. I'll see you to the house, because I've got to walk home, now that my wheel has gone up the flume," remarked Frank.
"What's the matter with you using mine?" demanded the other. "That plug you put in holds dandy, and there's nothing the matter with it right now. Same old place, under the side porch here. Guess the lamp is on the bum, but you hardly need that. If a cop holds you up, explain what happened."
"All right, I guess I might as well ride as walk. But I hope I get my wheel back. It's nearly new, you know, and cost a heap," Frank remarked, as he dove under the stoop, to presently appear dragging the other bicycle.
"Apply to Puss and Company for further information," called Andy, holding the door open a crack to shoot the words out and then closing it.
Frank, laughing at the obstinate ways of his chum, pushed the machine out to the road and was soon moving along. Evidently he lacked the same confidence in Andy's wheel that he felt in his own, for he made no attempt to speed as he went toward town and home.