"Puss Carberry!" burst from Andy's quivering lips, as he continued to stare, as if almost unable to believe his own eyes.
CHAPTER XIII.
THE "DEVIL-BIRD."
"Yes, Puss Carberry and his crony, Sandy Hollingshead!" declared Frank, positively.
"But, it seems impossible! All these hundreds and hundreds of miles away from old Bloomsbury and Puss Carberry floating over us! Sure I must be dreaming, Frank!" stammered the other, still gaping up at the rapidly passing aircraft.
"No, you're just as wideawake as ever you were in all your sweet life," said Frank. "Take a better look, Andy; don't you see now that it's the same biplane we raced with the day Sandy dropped that bag of sand, hoping to break our winning streak in the dash for Old Thunder Top?"
"Anyhow it's a ringer for it, I give you my word!" muttered the stunned boy.
Frank, with an exclamation of impatience, sprang forward and snatched something up that had just caught his attention. This proved to be the fine field glasses that had been brought along on the adventure.
These he clapped to his eye, and as they were already fitted and adapted to his sight, he lost not a second in covering the passing aeroplane.
"Look for yourself, my boy!" he cried, handing the binoculars over to
Andy, who hastily raised them.