Bob’s eyes sparkled in anticipation. They were left to themselves for a few minutes while they heard Mr. Rossmore rummaging about down in the cellar, evidently after the victuals.
“Does anything strike you as peculiar?” asked Jerry of his chums, as he noted that Professor Snodgrass was trying to capture a fly that was buzzing on the window pane.
“It looks comfortable,” remarked Bob. “Comfortable, and--and a good place to stay. He’s going to feed us well, too!”
“Oh, that’s all you think of, Chunky! I mean doesn’t Mr. Rossmore strike you as rather odd?”
“It was kind of funny, him not wanting you to go out in the barn,” said Ned.
“That’s what I mean. Now I think----” and Jerry drew closer to his companions.
But what Jerry thought he did not at that moment say, for at that instant there sounded outside, and above the noise of the rain on the roof, a loud cry.
Their voices were silenced in a terrific clap of thunder that followed a vivid flash. Professor Snodgrass jumped back from the window in some alarm.
“Look!” cried Jerry pointing outside where the rain was coming down in torrents. What he saw, and what the others saw was Mr. Rossmore rushing toward the barn at full speed--toward the barn against which he had warned our heroes.
“Well, what do you make of that?” asked Ned, as they watched their host disappear inside the big structure.
“Didn’t that call come from there?” asked Bob.
“Sure,” assented Jerry. “And Mr. Rossmore ran out there as soon as he heard it. He must have gone from the cellar by the outside door.”
“What do you suppose he ran out to the barn for in the rain?” asked Bob.
“Because he has something there that needs his attention,” decided Jerry. “We heard the yell, out he rushed, and he went suddenly. Whatever he has out there he doesn’t want us to see; that’s evident.”
“We’ll see if we can’t discover it,” suggested Ned. “I don’t like the looks of things around here. Shall we tell Mr. Rossmore why we’re looking for the other airship, Jerry?”
“Why not?” persisted Ned. “Don’t you recall what he said when he caught sight of us?--something about it being ‘another one of th’ critters.’ That looks suspicious.”
“There are a lot of things that look suspicious,” agreed the widow’s son, “but we can’t solve them that way. We must be as foxy as this farmer is, that is, if he is trying to play foxy; keep our eyes open, listen with both ears, and we’ll see what happens. Meanwhile say as little as possible, let him think we are falling in with his ideas, and he may betray himself. Here he comes back. Don’t let him see that we’ve been watching.”