“I told you so!” cried Hiram, jubilantly. “When we first saw the airship and its queer doings, and ran after it, didn’t I tell you that Dave couldn’t be at the wheel, Mr. Grimshaw?”
“You did, and I felt sure he wasn’t,” commented Grimshaw. “Who was?” he challenged, bluntly.
“That’s quite a story,” explained Dave.
“Then tell it.”
“I don’t want much said about it for the present,” stipulated the young aviator.
“All right,” nodded Grimshaw.
Dave motioned his friends out of earshot of the gardener, who was pottering about his broken panes. Then he told the whole story.
“Why, the wretches!” growled old Grimshaw, fiercely, when the narrative was concluded.
“The mean sneaks!” exclaimed the indignant Hiram. “Left you here in that fix, not knowing whether you were dead or alive.”
“I’d have those two rascals locked up, double-quick,” advised Grimshaw.