efore that Mr. Giddings, in company with his
son Robert, had called at the Ross homestead, and after a long
conference with the boys as to the suitability of the new Sky-Bird II
for making a world cruise, had taken his departure with his mind fully
made up as to how he should meet the rival paper's challenge.

A few days subsequently, Bob Giddings found, upon reaching home for
lunch, that his motorcycle, which he was in the habit of riding back
and forth to work, so that he could rush into town on short notice and
get emergency materials for the airplane, had a flat tire. As he could
not fix the tire then, he decided to walk back to the fair-grounds.

As he emerged from the big front yard of his home, he chanced to look
toward town, and observed an orange-colored taxicab standing near the
first crossing. This would not have especially attracted Bob's
attention, except for the fact that a man sitting on the front seat was
just at that moment pointing his index finger toward the Giddings'
place, and a slender-looking man just descending from the cab was
looking that way and nodding his head.

It seemed to Bob that he had seen the passenger before, but a second
look made him think he must be mistaken; at least he could not place
him.

"It's probably somebody to see dad. If so, he'll get disappointed, as
dad won't get back from the city before evening."

Dismissing the incident from his mind with this thought. Bob hurried
down the road, eager to reach the hangar and get to work again on the
new airplane.

A few moments after he had passed the home of a youth he knew, he heard
a familiar salutation, and turned around to wave his hand in a greeting
to this friend, who had come to the front door. As he turned, his eye
fell on a slender figure some distance behind, a figure which stepped
behind a tree and stopped.

"Humph! that's funny," mused Bob. "It looks a lot like that fellow who
got out of the taxi back there by our house; I wonder what he's up to,
anyhow?"

He continued his way, but as he reached the fair-grounds gate and got
out his key to unlock it, the whim to look back again seized him. As
he turned, his gaze once more rested on the slender form of the
wayfarer, who had crossed to the opposite side of the road, and who
now, finding himself observed once more, promptly stopped and began to
fuss with his shoe-lace.

"Say now, this is funny!" ejaculated Bob under his breath, vainly
trying again to rec