“Oh!” exclaimed his companion, “then you think it’s professionals who are at the bottom of this mischief?”
“It was certainly an expert airman who piloted the Comet away so snugly,” declared Dave. “I believe, though, that he was hired by others.”
“Why, Dave, what do you mean?” inquired the puzzled Hiram.
“I can’t explain everything to you just now,” replied Dave. “I am not trying to throw any air of mystery about this strange disappearance of the Comet, but you remember telling me about seeing that schemer, Vernon, come out of the Hampton Flats in the city?”
“Why, yes,” assented Hiram, with a start of enlightenment.
“Well, I have reason to believe that he is mixed up with this affair.”
“You don’t say so! Bound to bother the Bracketts to the last limit, is he?”
“No, I believe his motives lead in an entirely different direction this time,” replied Dave, but he would say no more on the topic just then. He resumed: “Of course, we must find the Comet by this time to-morrow, or start in the race with another machine.”
“Oh, then we’ll go anyway?” asked Hiram, brightening up. “Say, that’s great!” and he uttered an immense sigh of relief.
“Mr. Brackett has telegraphed for the Zephyr, which is at Baltimore,” explained Dave. “It will be on the grounds before night.”