“Oh, come!” said Frank, “you’re going to run him down just because his guess about your wrench falling in that mudhole turned out bad. Why, at the time I thought it must be the truth.”
“But Larry is always a false alarm,” declared Andy. “Like as not now he thinks we don’t know a thing about that plagued old biplane, and he’s just bursting with importance.”
The object of this conversation now came wheeling up to the door of the shed. He did seem to be trembling from some cause or other. It might have been his rapid pedaling over the road from town or else the immensity of the news he was bearing.
“Hey, fellows!” he cried, as he came puffing inside, “don’t suppose you’ve heard about it.”
“Punk! You’re a back number, Larry,” exclaimed Andy, quickly. “Why, we watched ’em circle around the field from here; and Elephant saw ’em come down. You can’t tell us anything new about Puss Carberry’s new biplane, I guess!”
Larry looked surprised.
“Why,” he said, “I hadn’t heard anything about that. Do you mean to tell me they’ve been and beat you up? And actually got back to solid earth again without breaking their necks? Well, that is news!”
“But look here,” said Frank, “you were going to tell us something. Has there been another prize offered? Perhaps there may have cropped up a dozen other aeroplanes that are being built for the competition. Seems to be the rage around Bloomsbury just now. What is it all about, Larry?”
“Oh! what I had to tell don’t seem to have any connection at all with airships,” said Larry. “The funny thing about it is how they ever managed to keep it a secret all morning, up to noon. And Chief Waller has been working hard all the time. Possibly now, you may have seen some of his men passing along the road here, mounted on motorcycles? They’re scouring the whole blessed county for the rogues!”
“Rogues!” exclaimed the impetuous Andy; “now you have got us wondering to beat the band! What’s going on in Bloomsbury? Sure the old town is waking out of her Rip Van Winkle sleep with a rush.”