“Mischief? In what way?”
The young airman lost no time in briefly recounting his discovery. He had Mr. King as thoroughly stirred up as himself by the time he had concluded his graphic recital.
“This is serious,” declared Mr. King, very much disturbed. “Dawson again, eh? It’s easy to guess trouble when that young scapegrace is around. It fits in with—but that will keep. There is no time to wait. Stay here for a minute.”
The expert aviator dashed into the house, while Dave waited in the street. He kept his eye fixed on the aerodrome, half expecting every moment to see it burst into flames.
“Here we are,” announced Mr. King, reappearing on a run with two companions. One of them was Mr. Dale, who grasped Dave’s hand while hurrying along. The other man Dave had never seen before.
“That is Leblance, our new man,” explained Mr. Dale.
“Don’t delay!” called out Mr. King, excitedly, leading the way, and the group reached the entrance to the aerodrome in less than two minutes.
Mr. King unlocked the door. As he opened it he reached in and touched the button controlling the electric lights. A blaze of radiance suddenly illuminated the rambling place, making it as bright as day.
In the center of the shop, supported on a working frame and by the iron girders aloft, was the skeleton of the giant airship. The young aviator was eagerly ready for full attention to the object so dear to him. All his faculties, however, were for the instant enlisted in an effort to trace out the significance of the surreptitious visit of Jerry Dawson.
“There does not seem to be anything out of place,” said Mr. King, after a swift survey of the dirigible balloon.