he small lake steamer that
was heading toward them.

Passengers could be seen on its deck, and possibly every eye was glued
just at that particular moment on the aeroplane that was buzzing go
steadily northward; perhaps it might have been the first time some of
these people had ever seen such an interesting object; but in the region
around Bloomsbury it was by now a common sight, with such enterprising
young air pilots as the Bird boys and Percy Carberry in the field almost
every decent day.

All at once Frank was heard to utter an exclamation.

"Turn your glasses straight ahead, and see what that can be fluttering
among the bushes at Norton's Point, Andy!" he called out hastily.

When the other had swung around, and covered the region spoken of, he
quickly gave the desired information.

"Somebody seems to be shaking a handkerchief or something else white,"
he observed. "And it don't look like just waving at the steamer either,
for they do it after a system, as we would signal with wigwag flags.
There, I counted seven times he did it; then comes a halt, and one, two,
three times, another halt; and once more he starts in, this time three,
four, five, and then stops. Now, what do you suppose the fellow means by
that, and who can he be waving to, Frank?"

"You'd expect it might be some one out on the lake; can you see any
small boat in sight, Andy; or any one waving back from another point?"

"Not a thing, as far as I can see," replied the boy with the marine
glasses.

"Suppose you try the steamer, then," suggested Frank, meaningly.

Immediately Andy gave an exclamation of astonishment.

"I see a signal moving, Frank, and it seems to be copying the one on
shore," he hastened to remark, excitedly.

"Where does it come from, the passengers that I saw pushing up against
the rail, and staring at us; are any of them interested, do you think?"
continued Frank, who just then could not turn his head to look, but must
depend on his chum.

"Well, no," answered Andy, "it seems to come from the pilothouse, and
must be Todd Pemberton, himself."

CHAPTER IX

THE PILOT OF THE MERMAID

"So, it's Todd Pemberton, is it?" remarked Frank, "I think it'll pay us
to slow down a little, and look into this white rag-waving business."

"Goodness gracious! you can't be thinking that Todd is in touch with the
bank robbers, can you, Frank?" Andy exclaimed, astounded, apparently, at
the very thought of such a thing.

"Oh!