Having arisen to the height of several hundred feet, Frank headed toward
Bloomsbury. Like a true and alert pilot he was watching and listening to
ascertain how their recent work held; and presently a satisfied
expression crossing his face announced that he found his faith well
justified.
They had skimmed along for perhaps a mile or more when Andy made a
certain discovery that caused him to call out.
"Look along the road below and ahead, Frank," he said, "and you'll see
something that makes you think of old times, when we hunted, in company
with Chief Waller, for those men who looted Leffingwell's jewelry
establishment."
"Why, as sure as you're born, Andy, it does look like the Chief; and
he's sitting in a vehicle, waving his hat. He seems to be looking up at
us, and now that I've turned off the motor to glide a little I can hear
him shouting."
"Frank, do you think he's just saluting us, or does he want us to come
down?" demanded Andy, in some apprehension.
"Now he's making all sorts of gestures, and honestly I think he means
that he wants to see us. Had we better drop in that open field just
alongside the road? Looks good to me for a rise when we want to start
again."
"Whatever you think best, Frank; I'm always willing to be guided by you.
Mighty seldom you make a bad mess of it, while I often do.
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