“You say you have seen an airship,” observed Dave. “Where? when?”
The farmer eyed our hero and his companion shrewdly.
“What do you want to know for?” he questioned.
“Well,” answered Dave, bluntly, “someone stole a biplane from the aero field, near Washington, last night, and we are looking for it.”
“Oh, you are?” muttered the man. “Belongs to you, maybe?”
“To a company which we represent.”
“Responsible for damages?” insinuated the farmer, with a shrewd glint in his calculating eyes.
“Is there some damage to account for?” inquired Dave.
“I reckon,” pronounced the man seriously. “Did you happen to notice the last farm down the road?”
“We saw it, mister,” nodded Hiram, impatient to hurry up the man with his disclosures.