“Just like the mean skunk. Those sort of things are always in his mind; and so he suspects others are just as nasty about doing such stunts,” said Frank with an expression of disgust.
“Just about what I told him to his face,” Andy observed, quickly. “And as sure as you live, here’s the evidence of it right before us. Ten to one Sandy slashed these planes with his knife. Wish he’d happened to drop it here; wouldn’t I like to pick it up, and tell him where I found it?”
As he spoke, Andy started to look around the shop. His comrade presently heard him give utterance to a sudden exclamation, as he stooped over.
“Found any knife?” asked Frank, humorously.
“Well, no; not a knife; but I have raised a knave of spades. Look here, neither of us ever had a pack of cards in this shanty, did we? Then what is this doing here, tell me?” and Andy excitedly held up what he had found.
Frank thought enough of it to take the card from his cousin’s hand, and look it over. Then he laughed.
“Same old story,” he said, nodding. “Did Puss Carberry ever try any dodge without having it backfire? Now, I would be willing to take my affidavit that there was no such card lying around loose here yesterday when we worked at our monoplane. So it goes to show that it must have been pulled from the pocket of one of our midnight visitors, perhaps when he was getting out his handkerchief or a knife.”
“But can we prove it on them?” asked Andy, hungrily, as he glanced once more at the cut planes.
“Perhaps we can,” replied Frank, thoughtfully, wrinkling his brow as he reflected. “In the first place, we must try and learn whether either of those fellows own a pack of cards marked on the back like this. You see it is an Indian figure, and underneath are the words ‘The Red Hunter.’ I don’t know for certain, but I’ve got a hunch that Puss brought this pack back with him, when he came from the city last.”
“Yes. Go on,” said Andy, deeply interested.