“I knows it, Massa Tom, but he done persisted his se'f inter it, an' he wouldn't come out when I told him; an' your pa an' Mr. Jackson ain't home.”
“I'll see about this,” exclaimed Tom, striding to the large shed, where the Red Cloud was kept. As he entered it he saw a man looking over the wonderful craft.
“Did you want to see me?” asked Tom, sharply, for he did not like strangers prowling around.
“I did, and I apologize for entering here, but I am interested in airships, and I thought you might want to hire a pilot. I am in need of employment, and I have had considerable to do with balloons and aeroplanes, but never with an airship like this, which combines the two features. Do you wish to hire any one.”
“No, I don't!” replied Tom, sharply, for he did not like the looks of the man.
“I was told that you did,” was the rather surprising answer.
“Who told you?”
The man looked all around the shed, before replying, as if fearful of being overheard. Then, stepping close to Tom, he whispered:
“Mr. Jenks told me!”
“Mr. Jenks?” Tom could not conceal his astonishment.