"Perhaps he's got something to tell us about Helen Brady!" cried Matt, starting up. "If he has, then the news couldn't come at a better time."
While Harris was climbing the fence, both boys started across the swampy ground to meet him.
"Howdy, Matt!" called the officer, jerking a handkerchief from his pocket and wiping his perspiring face. "Hello, Ferral. Pretty hot day for a fast walk, and I didn't let any grass grow under me."
"What's the trouble, Harris?" queried Matt.
"There's plenty, I'm telling you. I guess we'll have to put another detail of officers on guard at this balloon house; if we don't, you lads are liable to get done up and lose the Hawk."
"How's that?" demanded Ferral.
"Why, that pesky Brady has escaped from the 'pen' at Joliet, and——"
"Escaped?" echoed Matt.
"Well, sink me!" exclaimed Ferral. "Why, he made his brags that the 'pen' couldn't hold him."
"That fellow's as slippery as an eel," went on Harris. "He's been at large for two days, and the prison authorities have kept it quiet, hoping they'd be able to bag him; but they failed to catch him, and now it's got into the papers. I wonder if you understand what that means to you, Matt?" and here the officer fixed a significant look on the young motorist.