“Well, what do you make of that?” asked Ned, as they watched their host disappear inside the big structure.
“Didn’t that call come from there?” asked Bob.
“Sure,” assented Jerry. “And Mr. Rossmore ran out there as soon as he heard it. He must have gone from the cellar by the outside door.”
“What do you suppose he ran out to the barn for in the rain?” asked Bob.
“Because he has something there that needs his attention,” decided Jerry. “We heard the yell, out he rushed, and he went suddenly. Whatever he has out there he doesn’t want us to see; that’s evident.”
“We’ll see if we can’t discover it,” suggested Ned. “I don’t like the looks of things around here. Shall we tell Mr. Rossmore why we’re looking for the other airship, Jerry?”
The tall lad shook his head.
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“Why not?” persisted Ned. “Don’t you recall what he said when he caught sight of us?—something about it being ‘another one of th’ critters.’ That looks suspicious.”
“There are a lot of things that look suspicious,” agreed the widow’s son, “but we can’t solve them that way. We must be as foxy as this farmer is, that is, if he is trying to play foxy; keep our eyes open, listen with both ears, and we’ll see what happens. Meanwhile say as little as possible, let him think we are falling in with his ideas, and he may betray himself. Here he comes back. Don’t let him see that we’ve been watching.”
Mr. Rossmore must have known that his trip to the barn had been observed, for instead of coming in through the cellar, the way he had gone out, he came in by the back entry of the kitchen.
“I had to go out in the barn—I’ve got a sick horse there,” he explained. “Maybe you boys heard him neighing.”
“We heard some noise out that way, but the storm made such a racket we couldn’t be sure,” spoke Jerry.
“Yes, it was my horse. He’s in a bad way.”
“I shouldn’t think you’d keep him in a barn that was in danger of tumbling down,” remarked Ned, with a wink at his chums.
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“Oh, I don’t know as the barn is going to fall right away. Still it’s best to be on the safe side with folks. Now I’ll go ahead and get up the victuals. If you hear any more noises from the barn—well, don’t go out there, that’s all. That horse might get loose and hurt you.”
“We won’t,” promised Jerry. “Not in this rain.”
For it was pouring harder than ever, though the thunder and lightning were not so severe. Mr. Rossmore was drenched by his trip to the barn, but he did not seem to mind. In a short time he had set out a substantial meal, Bob offering to help, of which services the farmer availed himself.
“Isn’t there any blacksmith shop nearer than ten miles?” asked Jerry, after the meal. “That’s too far to go in our airship with a broken brace. If we can’t find one nearer we’ll have to make temporary repairs ourselves.”
“Well, it might not be quite ten miles,” said the farmer, in what the boys thought was an eager tone. “In fact perhaps it isn’t more than three or four. I guess you could get there all right. When are you going to start?”
“In the morning,” answered Jerry, for it was now unusually dark, because of the heavy clouds overhead.
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“Oh, then you’re calculating on staying here all night,” spoke the farmer. “Well, now, I’m sorry, but you see I’ve only got one bed—that is I’ve got more, but they’ve been taken down to be painted, and they’re not dry. The bed clothes have gone to the wash woman’s too. In fact that’s why my wife went away. We’re sort of house cleaning, and the only bed fit to use is a couch I sleep on.”
“Oh, we wouldn’t think of troubling you!” interposed Jerry. “We’ll go aboard the Comet and sleep there. We always do. We have plenty of bunks.” The more he saw of the queer man the less he liked the idea of spending the night under his roof.
“Oh, if you’ve got your own accommodations it’s all right,” went on Mr. Rossmore. “I can give you plenty of victuals.”
“That’s good!” exclaimed Bob, involuntarily.
“We have plenty of things to eat, too,” went on Jerry, who felt a growing distrust of the farmer, “though we are much obliged for what you have given us. We’ll go aboard our craft now, I think, and in the morning we’ll see if we can get to the smithy.”
“Well, it’s quite a bad break,” remarked Jerry a little later when, as they were all on the airship, he and his chums had made another inspection of[208] the fracture. “There must have been a flaw in the steel. I don’t believe we’d better risk going on to the blacksmith shop.”
“What will you do?” asked Ned.
“Make a new brace here. We can build a sort of forge out of stones and heat the metal enough I guess. I can make a temporary repair, that will last until we can get to a machine shop.”
“Then we’ll stay on at this place a little longer, eh?” asked Bob.
“Yes, until to-morrow afternoon anyhow.”
“That will give us a chance to do some investigating,” decided the merchant’s son. “I want to see inside that barn.”
“So do I,” agreed Jerry, “but we’ll have to be careful how we go about it. I guess Mr. Rossmore will be on the lookout.”
“He doesn’t go to bed with the chickens, at any rate,” observed Bob. “He’s got a light in the kitchen, and seems to be moving about, if the shadow on the curtain goes for anything.”
It was evident that the farmer was up and about, for the moving shadow was visible until nearly midnight. By this time the storm was over, and our heroes, who had been waiting up for a chance to make at least a tour outside the barn, had about decided to go to bed.
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Jerry could not get to sleep, though he was soon made aware by the heavy breathing of Bob and Ned that they were slumbering. But the tall lad was thinking of many things. At last, after tossing restlessly on his bed for some time, he got up and partly dressed.
“I think I’ll take a turn outside,” he thought. “Maybe I can get in the barn now, if that suspicious farmer is asleep.”
But Jerry’s hopes were doomed to disappointment. He had no sooner gone a few paces toward the forbidden barn than a hail came from the now darkened house.
“Who’s there?” called the voice of the farmer.
“It’s me—Jerry Hopkins,” was the reply.
“Oh—do you want anything—any of you boys sick?”
“No, I—I was just looking out—I couldn’t sleep. I’m going back now.”
“Oh—all right,” was the noncommital answer.
“No use trying that—he’s on guard,” mused Jerry as he got back into bed. “I’ll have to wait.”
The tall lad told his chums the next morning of his experience, and they agreed that there was something very strange about the matter. They got an early breakfast in the Comet, and at once[210] set to work making a temporary forge to weld a new brace.
“I thought you were going to the blacksmith’s,” remarked the farmer, as he saw what they were doing.
“We concluded it wouldn’t be safe,” replied Jerry. “No objection to making a fire here, is there? We’ll keep it inside the stones, and not set the barn afire.”
“Oh, that—that’s all right,” said the farmer with an obvious effort. “But don’t go in—that horse is dangerous.”
All that morning the boys worked hard at the new brace. They had it nearly finished and were getting ready to attach it. In the meanwhile Mr. Rossmore had been hovering about them, never very far away, and always keeping between them and the barn, which structure he entered several times, taking with him bottles of medicine.
“We’ll never get in there,” grumbled Ned.
“Take it easy,” advised Jerry. And then, most unexpectedly, their chance came. A man who was driving past in the road called to Mr. Rossmore, who was hoeing in the garden near his house. The farmer, after a quick glance at the boys, who were busy over their forge, hastened to[211] the fence, and soon was in earnest talk with the horseman.
“Now’s our chance!” exclaimed Ned. “Jerry, you slip over to the barn. Rossmore can’t see you from where he stands. I’ll hang your coat on this stake, and Bob and I will crowd up around it so it will look as if all three of us are here at the fire. Go ahead and be quick about it.”
Jerry saw that the plan was a good one. With a quick glance to assure himself that Mr. Rossmore was still at the fence, the tall lad hurried toward the barn. The big front doors were locked, but Jerry ran around to the back, and there found a portal open. It was the work of but an instant to slip inside.
At first, coming in out of the bright light, he could see nothing. Then his eyes became accustomed to the darkness. He moved forward, and as his feet echoed over the rough boards the lad was startled by a call:
“Who’s there?” asked a voice.
“Where are you?” inquired Jerry in turn. He heard some sharp whispers, and then, before he could move, a door was thrown open. It gave a view of a large, light harness room, but it was not the sight of horse trappings that attracted Jerry’s attention.
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Lying on a cot in the room was a man whose head was done up in bandages, while holding the door open was another wounded man leaning on a crutch. The latter caught one view of Jerry, and then the door was slammed shut with a bang. At the same instant there sounded that loud cry that Jerry had heard once before. His blood was chilled as the echoes vibrated through the old barn.
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