He quieted himself finally by thinking out a new theory, and this made him feel somewhat hopeful as to himself.
“There’s been a miss in the plans of those scoundrels,” flashed into his mind. “It’s probable, it’s possible, yes, that’s it, I’ll bet!” decided Dave.
He felt more patient and satisfied now. The boy concluded that the two men who had captured him had picked out the wrong white horse. There had been more of that color among those hitched near the freight gate at the aviation grounds.
“They put me in the wrong wagon,” thought Dave, “and here I am. What will they do when they learn of their terrific blunder?”
Dave chuckled over this. If it had not been for his active fears as to some designs against Mr. King and the Aegis, Dave would have felt quite jubilant.
“It will be all right in the morning,” he tried to believe, and finally went to sleep.
The loud barking of a dog aroused our hero. The tarpaulin was shaking, and as its edges flapped about Dave could tell that it was broad daylight.
“Here, Tige, what are you up to?” shouted a familiar voice.
It was that of the farmer boy who had covered Dave up in the wagon box the evening previous.
Dave could trace the movements of the dog, probably just released from his kennel by his early rising young master doing his chores about the barn yard. The animal barked unceasingly, circled the wagon and tore at the dangling ends of the tarpaulin. Dave could hear the paws of the dog as in his excitement he tried to clamber up into the vehicle.