Andy nodded his head several times, while his face, seen in the moonlight, appeared to be covered with an eager grin.
“Yep, went over the tops of those same trees just like a bird—poof! and it was gone. I couldn’t make head or tail out of it, because, you see, I was nearly standing on my own head just then. But it wasn’t a bird, I’ll take my affidavit on that! It sure must have been some sort of flying machine, Frank!”
His listener whistled to express his surprise.
“Here, let’s go and get some clothes on over these zebra stripes,” he suggested. “Then we can come out and look into this thing a little closer.”
In less than three minutes they issued forth again, better able to stand the chilly air of the night.
“Did you hear anything more than the shouts?” asked Andy, as they emerged.
“Why, yes; some sort of racket woke me up. Don’t just know what it was, but I thought somebody might be banging on the side of the shack, and I jumped. I guess that’s what woke you, too,” continued the taller lad.
“But Frank,” declared Andy, impressively, “I couldn’t say for certain, and yet it seemed to me as I lay here, after tumbling over that wooden bucket I forgot to carry indoors, I heard some sort of sounds that made me think of the popping of a little motor!”
“A motor!” cried the other, “and up there in the air, too!”
They stared hard at each other. Some startling thought must have instinctively lodged in each brain, for almost immediately Andy went on sadly, saying: