Across the sky in the direction of the airship a broad sweeping pencil of light swept the heavens from zenith to horizon, and back again.
“Ah, that?” said Dave; “it’s the great searchlight of the Albatross.”
CHAPTER XVII
A TRUSTY GUIDE
The young aviator had to do some explaining for the benefit of the outlaw leader before the latter could understand what a searchlight was.
“Reckon there’s no spot safe for a free and easy fellow with all these new-fangled contrivances,” remarked the man.
“I’d like to see that balloon, all the same,” observed one of his band.
“We’d better keep close to the safety line,” advised the leader. “There’s a good deal of hubbub around, and we’d better watch out for the MacGuffins.”
It was an hour later when the two men sent to Forestville came galloping back into camp. They were hot, tired and dusty. Their steeds were reeking, and dropped their heads in an exhausted way as their riders drove up to the campfire and dismounted.
“Did you get the stuff?” inquired the leader.
“That’s what you sent us for, wasn’t it?” queried one of the horsemen. “Well, there it is,” and he handed out a package.