ort seeing a strange biplane passing over, so giving the police a
clue. No, chances are ten to one they kept right on toward the north.
And there's where we've got to do all our searching today. We can just
comb the whole district over, and anything that looks like the stolen
aeroplane is sure to catch our attention from this height, don't you
think so, Andy?"

"I reckon it will, Frank; but the only thing bothers me is that things
may have worked all right with the rascals, and by now they're away off,
so far distant that we'll never in the wide world get in touch with
them, the more the pity."

"Well, it's never been a habit of ours to own up beaten till we've done
everything under the sun to win out. And Andy, we've only started as
yet. The field is before us, you know, with a whole day's supply of gas
to push us on, if we want to keep going. So I'm not asking any favors,
and expect to do just my level best to find out where the bank robbers
have gone."

"And if we hunt around a whole lot without getting tabs on the pair,
why, we can drop down somewhere in a town, and get in touch with
Bloomsbury Headquarters. The Chief as much as promised that he'd leave
word there to put us wise to anything that had been learned by way of
the telephone, from other places. And given a clue in that way, we might
take a fresh spurt, you know."

"Just so, Andy," agreed the other, bending his head to watch how some
part of the machinery was doing its duty; for that is always the weak
link in modern aviation, nearly everything depending on the engine
fulfilling its part perfectly.

Andy continued to make use of the pair of glasses that magnified objects
in the far distance so wonderfully that a man could have been recognized
easily a mile away, and perhaps much further, if the air were real
clear.

Now and then he turned them to the right. The beautiful lake always
attracted him very much like a magnet would, whenever he had a chance to
look out over its glistening bosom.

And there was the little steamer, just as Frank had said; why, he could
even distinguish Todd Pemberton up in the pilothouse, grasping his wheel
and guiding his charge among the shoals that were charted in the
northern end of the lake as dangerous, that is, for green hands at the
tiller or wheel of a boat propelled by sails, steam or gasolene.

They were moving in a line that would carry them up along the shore, and
consequently every minute they drew nearer t