"Something's wrong!" cried the miner, sniffing the air. "There's been crooked work here! Where are the boys?"
Mr. Damon was close to the airship. He looked in the cabin window.
"Here they are, and they're both asleep, too!" he called. "And—bless my eyeglasses! Look at the airship! The planes and wings are all cut and slashed! Something has happened! The RED CLOUD is all but ruined!"
Abe hastened to his side. He looked at the damage done, and a fierce look came over his face.
"The Fogers again!" he murmured. "We'll pay 'em back for this! But first we must see to the boys!"
They needed small attention, however. The opening of the big door had let in a flood of fresh air, and this dispelled the last of the fumes. The watchman was the first to revive. The sleep caused by the chemical, sprayed from the air-pump by the vandal, had been succeeded by a natural slumber, and this was the case with Ned and Tom. They were soon aroused, and looked with wonder, not unmixed with rage, at the work done in the night.
Every one of the principal planes of the airship, each of the rudders, and some of the auxiliary wings had been cut by a sharp knife—some in several places. The canvas hung in shreds and patches, and the trim RED CLOUD looked like some old tramp airship now. Tom could scarcely repress a groan.
"Who did it?" he gasped.
"And with us here on guard!" added Ned.
"I—I must have fallen asleep," admitted the watchman in confusion.