“No, I’m not! They do belong to me. That craft was designed by my father, Jeptha Nevins, and I can prove it, what’s more.”
“If that’s so, why didn’t you build one yourself?” demanded Schultz.
“I didn’t have time to before thieves stole the plans. I’ll get even, though. I’ll fix ’em. They won’t rob me!”
“For heaven’s sake, be quiet. Everybody’s looking at you. You’ll ruin our plans.”
Miles Sharkey impatiently jerked at Hank’s sleeve. He would have liked to put an emphatic hand over his noisy companion’s mouth. But Hank at last saw reason. As the Electric Monarch soared off into the distance, melting into the sky like a vanishing bird, he consented to allow Miles to lead him away.
They had not gone very far when round a corner came Sam Hinkley. He was out of breath and much excited.
“Did you see it?” he cried.
“See it? Do you think we are blind?” roared Hank. “What kind of bungling is this? Didn’t you get the lever? How did they come to start?”
“Just what I’d like to know,” said Sam with equal heat. “I did my part of the work all right. I detached the lever and hid it in an old well. They must have had another one some place and put it on at the last moment.”