"Bet now we're ready for him the old guy won't turn up," he said, disappointedly.
"Don't worry," assured Herb. "Like as not he won't come 'round till midnight. That's his usual calling time."
"Regular New York swell," commented Gray.
"Wonder what kind of a thing it is," said Fred.
"I'm beginnin' to think it's a witch--never comes around in daylight, and nobody ever can get a peep at him," responded Jerry.
"We'll soon find out," returned Herb. "Least, I hope so."
"How near's Chance now?" suddenly interrogated Fred.
"He's within a couple day's run of us," responded Hawke. "Ought to pass over here Tuesday or Wednesday."
"Gee, bet it'll take a fall out of him to see another plane bobbin 'round here, won't it?" said Herb.
"We'll surprise him, all right," laughed Hawke. "He'll lose his bearings when he sees us put in our appearance. I'll find out the time he's comin' and run him a race."
"He's clippin' off a good record," commented Fred, who had been reading the papers. "Goin' to make it, I guess."
Talking thus the hours sped by until it was after eleven o'clock. The night descended thicker and blacker as time passed, and in the tense silence, broken now and then by a tuneful bleat, the boys huddled closer together and talked in hushed voices.
"We sure could hear the flutter of a wing," reflected Herb.
The next moment they were on their feet, scarcely suppressing a yell. Something had rushed directly over them, fanning the air like a propeller, but with less noise. Quick as thought they were in the plane, the lamps were flashed on and they had mounted into the air.
A huge flying bulk was just in front of them, and, as it swooped downward toward the sheep, a shout from Fred apparently startled it, for it rose again, and, whirling, circled rapidly above the fold.
"It's some kind of a flying monster all right," whispered Herb excitedly.
Hawke had made a rapid semicircle and was flying swiftly in pursuit, but, as he had lost time in turning, the object had become a part of the darkness and he could only steer in the direction in which it had seemed to be flying.
"Carl's waving his lantern," exclaimed Herb. "Must be over there."
Hawke veered quickly. The lamps, while shedding a bright glow for some distance around the machine, did not throw their light very far ahead.
