ven Bill Bender's brazen face took
on a shade of pallor. If this were so, however, it could have been
only momentary, for the next minute Jack, with what seemed very much
overdone cordiality, came forward with:

"Why, hullo, boys. I just heard about your loss. Any news?"

"No, not a word," chirped little Joe Digby, one of the few lads in the
Eagle Patrol who had never run afoul of the bully.

"Well," went on Jack, affecting not to notice the silence with which
his advances had been greeted, "I hope you find the fellows who did it,
whoever they were."

"Same here," chimed in Bill Bender, now quite at his ease, "although,
at that, I guess it was only a joke, and you'll get 'em back again
before long."

"Do you think so, Bill?" asked Merritt, looking the bully's crony
steadily in the eye. "I hope so, I'm sure. By the way, Hiram Nelson
here says that he saw you hurrying up Main Street at just about the
time the robbery must have taken place. You didn't hear any unusual
sounds or see anything out of the way, did you?"

"I--why, no--I--you see, I was on my way home from my aunt's home,"
stuttered Bill, seemingly taken off his guard.

"Yes; your aunt, who left home yesterday afternoon to be gone a week,"
shot out Merritt.

"Queer that she should have changed her mind and come home in such a
hurry."

"Oh, come on, Bill," stuck in Sam, seeing that things were getting very
unpleasant. "We've got to hurry up if we're to get out to Jack's in
time."

Without another word, the three hurried off, seemingly not at all
unrelieved to escape from what Merritt was pretty sure were
embarrassing questions.

CHAPTER X

WINNING THE CONTEST

The day which was to witness the tests of the aeroplane models for the
prizes offered by the professor of aeronautics dawned still and fair.
It followed several days of storm, in which the boys had been unable to
make any excursions in their motor boat, or into the country, or,
indeed, even to devote any time to the engrossing subject of tracing
the theft of the uniforms to its source.

Early in the morning a small field in the rear of Mr. Blake's house was
well filled with boys of all ages and sizes, watching the contestants
in the model contest trying out their craft. The models were of all
sorts and sizes. Some were freak craft that had been constructed in a
hurry from pictures, without any attention being paid to scale or
proportions, while others were carefully made