ith that lack of coolness and presence of mind characterizing a more
reserved temperament, the impulsive Tom rushed straight up to the
window, and peered out. Of course he could see nothing, for the peeper
had been cute enough upon finding himself observed to keep close to the
side of the building as he moved swiftly toward its rear.

Tom now seized the lower sash and tried to throw it up, so as to get a
sidewise view. To his disgust he found it double-spiked, and realized
that he had put that very second nail in himself upon first learning of
the loss of the blue-prints.

"Huckleberry pie!" sputtered Tom, using his favorite expression when
excited.

He whirled about and started for the door of the building. On account
of the extensive size of the structure it was quite a little way to
this. To make matters worse Tom dashed forward in such haste and
flurry that he did not watch his step very closely; when he was about
half-way to the door, his toe caught the protruding leg of an innocent
sawhorse, and the next moment Tom Meeks and the sawhorse were both
overturned.

"Huckleberry pie!" gasped the big fellow. His right shin hurt like
fury, but he would not stop to examine it, and covered the remaining
distance to the door in very ludicrous limping jumps. Dashing around
the front of the building, he reached the corner which gave him a view
of the side.

Not a soul was in sight. Not to be outdone completely, Tom hurried
along the side of the building. As he came near the rear end he saw a
slender figure just clambering over the highboard fence of the field in
the rear of the hangar.

Lame as he was, big Tom knew there was no chance of his overtaking the
fleet-footed and cunning stranger, so he returned to his work very much
crestfallen in spirit.

When John heard what had happened, on his return to work, he was
considerably disturbed, and suggested to his comrades the advisability
of placing a night-guard on the premises for a while at least, since
this unknown enemy might make an effort some night to burn or
irreparably damage the Sky-Bird. The others sanctioned this
precaution, and thereafter took turns in watching, although this
vigilance was apparently all for naught, as no suspicious character
appeared.

CHAPTER VIII

THE SKY-BIRD II

"Well, Mr. Giddings, what do you think of Sky-Bird II?" asked John
Ross, one memorable day.

There was a smile of deep satisfaction on John's own bronzed fe