CHAPTER XXIII
BOB PURSUES!
Realizing that the watchman did not know what he meant by “the mystery crate,” Bob hurriedly told of the earlier experiences: all the while he talked his mind was busy, underneath, wondering why the pilot of the brown ship had flown over the plant, why he had appeared to lose control when the light flared up, why he had climbed to get away.
“He’s gone!” said the watchman. “Anyhow, that’s clear!”
“I hate to see him get away!” Bob said, sorrowfully.
“Whyn’t you chase him?”
“I?” Bob was startled by the idea.
“Sure—you! Didn’t I see Lang giving you lessons, and Griff, too?”
“Yes—but, at night—and Lang has the small ship.”
The watchman seemed to have caught the excitement of a chase.
“Look here, though!” he cried, beckoning as he ran. “In the hangar is a crate just like Griff’s model—belonged to Mr. Tredway. He—he won’t need it no more. Whyn’t you?——”