t over to-morrow morning."

"Good idea, Jack," declared Bob, yawning unrestrainedly. "I'm tired,
too."

"Very good," said Captain Folsom. "Meanwhile, I shall have to take
advantage of your kind offer to put me up for the night."

"No trouble at all," said Jack, heartily. "Come along. Night, fellows.
Come over to my house after breakfast. Night."

With mutual farewells the party broke up, Frank and Bob retiring to
their rooms, and Jack and his guest starting to make their way to the
Hampton home. On the part of none of them was there any prevision of
the strange events the night would bring forth.

CHAPTER IX

THE ENEMY STRIKES

In the middle of the night, Jack awoke with a start, and lay silent a
moment, listening, wondering what had aroused him. The next moment he
heard a cry outside his window of "Jack, Jack, wake up."

It was Frank's voice. Leaping from bed, Jack sprang to the upflung
window overlooking the side lawn nearest the Temple house. Outside in
the moonlight stood Frank, a pair of trousers pulled over his pajamas,
hands cupped to his mouth. He was preparing to yell again.

"What's the matter?" called Jack.

"The hangar's afire. Tom Barnum saw the blaze from your radio station
and called the house. I'm off. Come as fast as you can."

Turning, Frank plunged away toward the airplane hangar, clutching at
his trousers as he ran. Jack could not help laughing a little at the
ridiculous spectacle which his chum provided. Then he turned back to
the room and started feverishly to dress, ignoring everything except
trousers, shirt and shoes. While he was thus engaged, the voice of
Captain Folsom hailed him sleepily from next room.

"You up, old man? Thought I heard voices. Anything the matter?"

"Yes, there is," replied Jack, going to the communicating door. "Tom
Barnum, the mechanic-watchman in charge of our radio plant, which
isn't far from the Temples' airplane hangar, says the latter is afire.
Frank and Bob already are on the way down, and stopped to warn me."

"Afire?" cried Captain Folsom, leaping from his bed, and reaching for
his trousers. "That's bad. Just when we need the airplane, too, to spy
on these rascals. Half a minute, old man, and I'll be with you. Not so
devilish easy to get into trousers with one arm."

"Can I help you?" proffered Jack. "I'm all fixed. Here, let me lace
your shoes."

"Well, if you insist," said Captain Folsom.

As Jack deftly laced up the other's shoes, h