"Gee, that certainly sounds reasonable, Jack! They've been doing the thing that wasn't expected ever since the business started. I guess they're just as likely as not to keep on doing it, too."
"We ought to know in a little while, anyhow, Pete. I'm going to circle around here, strike a road that runs parallel to the railroad as it runs east of the Junction, and see what's doing."
Jack hurried along then for a time, and none of those in the car had anything to say, since, when Jack was pushing her, the noise was too great to make conversation pleasant or easy in any sense of the words.
They were in the road now that ran along parallel with the railroad that, running east from Fessenden Junction and away from the State capital, which lay southwest of that important point, approached gradually a junction with the main line of the railroad from Hardport at Freeport.
Jack was keeping his eyes open. He hardly knew what he expected to see, but he had an idea that there would be something to repay their trip.
And, about fifteen miles from Fessenden Junction, the soundness of his judgment was proved once more.
"Look up there!" cried Pete, suddenly. The eyes of three Scouts were turned upward in a moment, and there, perhaps two miles away, and three hundred feet above them, they saw a biplane hovering.
"Gee!" cried Jack. "That's the first we've seen in the air—a Blue biplane! None of our machines would be in this direction."
Swiftly he looked along the fence until he saw an opening.
"Here, jump out and let those bars down!" he cried, stopping the car.