"Then the crowd who stole the Drifter are as good as caught!" exclaimed Hiram hopefully.
"Hardly," replied Dave. "Mr. Price has advised me to get the
Monarch II over to the Canadian side of the lake to night!"
"Which you are going to do, Dave?"
"Right away."
Dave, while in Anseton, had made some necessary inquiries as to the location of Brantford. He had also got a very good idea of Big Moose Woods. His arrangements with the revenue officer had been precise. He was aware that their only chance of getting near to the missing airship was to make new headquarters somewhere in the vicinity of Brantford, just as they had on Desert Island.
The darkness was fading in the east when Dave selected a plateau on the top of a high hill as a landing place. Once landed, trees and bushes at its crest hid them from view except from overhead. Dave had used diligence and haste in getting out of possible sight, for day was breaking.
They had reach Brantford, sailed over it, and Dave calculated had skirted the vicinity of Big Moose Woods. Nowhere, however, had lights, a campfire or any other token indicated the camp or rendezvous of the Drifter party.
"We are within twenty miles of Brantford," Dave announced.
"And what's the programme?" inquired Hiram.
"Sleep, for we need it. We seem to be safely shut in here. Later we'll plan just what we will do."