“I want to throw those fellows—if they’re down there, as I think they are—off the track,” explained Tom. “It’s just a trick which may work and may not. They’ll either see us or hear our motor down where they are. And if they see us sheer off to the south they may take us for a mail plane. At any rate, they may not suspect that we’re after them.”
“I guess that’s good reasoning,” murmured Ned.
Accordingly, he shifted the steering wheel until the Blackbird did as many of her namesakes do when winter approaches—she headed for the south.
“How far on this course?” asked Ned as his chum continued to gaze down through the glasses.
“Just far enough to take us out of their sight. Then we’ll go down.”
“Go down?” cried Ned, in some surprise.
“Yes. We’ll make a landing and then come back by auto. I’ve got it all planned out. If we try to make a landing near those fellows they’ll spot us and light out, taking my chest with them. But if we go down in some spot a few miles off and then come back by auto, we can get pretty close to them before they suspect anything.”
“More good dope,” decided Ned, after thinking it over. “Do you think they’re the fellows you want, Tom?”
“It’s hard to say. That’s a blue aeroplane down there, I’m sure. But whether it’s the same one the robbers used isn’t so sure. However, I’m taking no chances.”
It did not take long for the Blackbird to put enough distance between her and the place where the blue aeroplane had been sighted to make it safe to descend. Now that he could no longer hold the glasses focused on the clump of trees, Tom put them aside and took charge of his craft.