"We'll have to hunt up a spyglass, or a pair of binoculars," suggested Harris.
"Vat oof der Hawk moofs pefore we ged dem?"
"Then we'll be up against it, and no mistake."
There was a lot of excitement in the little town of Lake Station when a real, sure enough air-ship descended close to the blacksmith shop. The whole population gathered and stared.
While Jerrold was busy tinkering with his crippled motor, Carl succeeded in finding an old-fashioned spyglass and climbed with it to the top of the highest building in town. There he perched himself on the edge of the roof and watched continually in the direction of Willoughby's swamp.
Meanwhile, Harris had been talking with police headquarters in South Chicago. As a result, three officers were detailed to catch the first train for Lake Station.
The repairs to be made to the Eagle were somewhat extensive, and taxed the capacity of the blacksmith shop. Had Jerrold been in his own workroom he could have fixed up the motor more easily and quickly, but to take the Eagle back to South Chicago would have resulted in a loss of time.
Hour after hour the inventor labored, helped by the blacksmith and eyed with wonder by the townspeople. The detail of officers arrived, and they could do nothing but wait until the Eagle was ready to carry them to the "island" in the swamp. Any attempt to reach the "island" on foot was hardly to be considered.
While Jerrold's labors were nearing completion, a yell from Carl called the attention of Harris.
"What's the matter with you?" he shouted.