"You're wanted on the phone," said he. "Police headquarters is callin' fer you."
Matt and his chums had a distressful feeling that something had gone wrong with the air-ship deal, and that the chief was calling up to tell Matt to come back and get his money. All three of them hurried to the telephone booth.
While Matt was talking, Carl and Ferral hung about the door of the booth, wrestling morbidly with their doubts and fears.
"The air ship is still ours," laughed Matt, as he came out of the booth, "but Grove, one of the gang that worked with Brady, and who was captured and in jail here awaiting trial, has escaped. What's more, the Chicago police haven't been able to find that sailboat and catch the Bradys. The chief here thinks Grove has gone to join Hector Brady, and that——"
Matt paused.
"Go on, mate," urged Ferral.
"And that Carl and I had better look out," finished Matt, "or Brady and his gang will put us out of the way."
"Dey vill haf more as dey can do keeping oudt oof der vay oof der bolice deirselufs," said Carl, "to bodder mit us, Matt."
"That's the way I size it up, Carl," returned Matt. "Besides, if Brady and his gang want to find us, after to-morrow morning, they'll have to get hold of another air ship."
But, even then, the cunning Brady was engineering a plot which was to strike Matt and his chums like a bolt from the blue.