"I only hope he doesn't happen to run across Puss before I get a chance to open his eyes," he was saying to himself, as he headed for the nearby garage. "Because I really believe Andy is mad enough to challenge our old enemy and throw the accusation in his teeth. Then there would be a high old mix-up, with Puss in the right for once."
It did not take him long to deliver both messages. He saw a mechanic start off to tackle the disabled runabout for the doctor, so he could carry out his round of morning visits by ten o'clock. And then a chauffeur ran a car out of the garage into which he invited Frank to jump.
When they arrived at police headquarters the chief was awaiting them. Evidently he was not at all averse to this delightful spin across country on a fine July morning and with nothing to pay. Official business might sometimes prove worth cultivating.
Presently they were off. Frank, of course, knew every rod of the way. He had more than a few times made the trip over to Shelby on his wheel in company with Andy. And since they had taken to the air they had looked down upon that road for miles, as they whirled along hundreds of feet up, discovering features about the landscape that they had never dreamed of before they had this "bird's-eye view," as Andy delighted to call it, playing upon their own name.
In due time they reached Shelby and drew up in front of the building where the police held forth. The first one to meet their eyes as they entered was a familiar figure seated in a chair and attended by a doctor and a couple of officers.
"It's Jules, sure enough!" said Frank, as, despite the many bandages about the head of the man, he recognized the dapper little French aviator with whom he had had more or less trouble in the past.
And Jules grinned as he saw them. His spirit was not crushed, even though it began to look as though he might be the football of fate.
"It ees ze fortunes of war, messiers," he said, wincing at the pain speech caused him. "And after all, it was ze machine of ze young inventor zat downed me. I am von lucky man not to haf been five thousand feet up in ze air when it occur. Had eet been ze monoplane zat kicked me, pouf! poor Jules he would haf been as flat as ze pancake. As eet is, after I haf serve my time I am yet alive."
Frank found his bicycle badly damaged. In fact, the front wheel was smashed beyond recovery, for it had been driven against some stone at a tremendous pace. Strange to say, the lamp had gone through it all without any apparent damage.
"A few dollars will fix it up, all right," he said, cheerfully. "And I guess I ought to be thankful ever to see it again."