“Yes”—and the last speaker jangled something metallic in his pockets.
“All right. Let’s waste no time. This is pretty neat, I call it—the lad settled, and the machine no good. I’m thinking old King will do some storming, when he tries another flight.”
“I think so, too. Come on,” was the retort, and the two men disappeared through the gateway of the aviation field.
CHAPTER XVIII
AN ALL-NIGHT CAPTIVITY
Dave sank down in his soft bed of bags and straw, unable to move hand or foot.
The men who had made him a helpless prisoner had done their work well. Dave could not use a muscle. As to dislodging the gag or shouting, that seemed entirely out of the question.
The youth had lots of time to think. He blinked up at the stars, kept his ears on the alert, and waited for further developments.
“There’s something to Hiram’s warning, sure enough,” he reflected. “If this is the work of Jerry Dawson, he must be a pretty desperate fellow.”