He inquired in the
village and learned my name, and so called me up to clear himself in
case I intended starting a pursuit.
"And he said," added Mr. Temple, leaning forward and speaking
impressively, "that he was pretty certain one man was a Greaser and
the other a Hun. Those were his own words. Of course, he meant one was
a Mexican and the other a German."
"So when this chauffeur abandoned them they stole our airplane to get
away," cried Frank excitedly.
"Exactly."
"Maybe," said Bob, "I copped every cent they had in pulling that
Mexican's coat off his back, and they were without carfare back to the
city."
"Oh, I suppose the German had money," said his father. "The German
probably was an aviator. And they stole the airplane in order to
escape from here quickly before we could get in pursuit of them. I
imagine they'll land in some deserted spot--plenty of them in the
sandy reaches along the New Jersey coast, for instance--make their way
to a railroad, after abandoning the plane, and go----"
"To the Southwest," said Frank, emphatically, interrupting Mr. Temple.
"What do you mean?" asked Bob.
"Weren't there a bunch of German spies in Mexico, stirring things up
there against us, during the war? Well, I'll bet there are some of the
same breed there now making all this trouble for Mr.
Pages:
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55