Then there being nothing for it but to obey instructions of the authorities, they all set out for the police station. They were half way there when Jimsy recollected that they had left the aeroplanes unguarded.

"'Twill make no difference at all at all," declared the policeman; "shure it's too late for anyone to be about."

"It wasn't too late for them to set that fire though," rejoined Roy in a low voice.

At police headquarters they were received by two sleepy-looking officials who questioned them at length and said they would be at the stable in the morning to hunt for clews.

"Why not go after them now, while the trail is hot?" inquired Jimsy.

"We have our own ways of doing these things, young man," was the reply, delivered with ponderous dignity.

"Well, we might as well go to bed and get a few hours' sleep anyhow,"

suggested Roy; "I can hardly keep my eyes open. How about you, Jimsy?"

"I--I--I've had some sleep already you know," rejoined Jimsy, reddening.

Thoroughly tired out from their long day and excitement, the party slept till late the next day. The first thing after breakfast plans for the continuance of the trip were discussed, and the day's program mapped out. This done, the girls and boys set out for the stable to look over the machines.

They found a pompous-looking policeman on guard in front of the place, ostentatiously pacing up and down. On identifying themselves they were at once admitted however. The man explained that he had only been on guard for an hour or two, and that during that time nothing worthy of mention had occurred.

While Jimsy was talking to him Roy and the others entered the stable. An instant later Roy, too excited to talk, came rushing out of the dis-used livery barn.

"What's up now, Roy?" demanded Jimsy, gazing at his chum, who for his part appeared to be too excited to get his words out.

"There's only three!" gasped Roy.

"Three what?" cried Jimsy.

"Three aeroplanes," returned Roy.

"Rubbish, you haven't got your eyes open yet."

"I'm right, I tell you; come in and count them if you don't believe me."

"Roy is right," cried Peggy, running up to the group; "the _Golden b.u.t.terfly_ has been stolen!"

"Stolen!" interjected Jimsy.

"That's right!" cried Jess; "those stupid police people left the barn unguarded. Whoever tried to set it on fire must have returned and stolen the _b.u.t.terfly_."

They regarded each other blankly. Was this Sky Cruise that they had looked forward to with such eager antic.i.p.ation to be nothing but a series of mishaps?

"It's awful!" gasped Peggy; "nothing but trouble since we started out."

"D'ye think it was stolen?" asked the policeman with startling intelligence.

"Well, it didn't fly of its own accord," was Peggy's rejoinder, delivered with blighting sarcasm.

The patrolman subsided.

"Maybe we can find it yet," suggested Jess.

"I'd like to know how," put in Jimsy disgustedly.

"Perhaps we can trace it. It must have been wheeled away."

"Ginger! That's so," cried Roy, snapping his fingers; "it would leave an odd track too, wouldn't it?"

"Well there's no harm in trying to trace it," admitted Jimsy, who appeared rather skeptical.

"Come on, then; get busy," urged Roy eagerly.

The next instant there came a cry from Peggy.

"I've struck the trail!" she cried.

"Where?"

The word came in chorus.

"Here! Look; you know the _b.u.t.terfly_ had peculiar kind of tires. See, it was wheeled up the street in that direction."

She pointed to where the village main thoroughfare ended in a country road.

"I'm not after takin' much stock in that," remarked the policeman.

"We won't bother you," rejoined Roy rather heatedly; "I guess we won't wait till your local Sherlock Holmes gets on the trail, we'll follow it ourselves."

"But who'll go?"

The question came from Jimsy.

"We can't all go, that's certain," exclaimed Bess.

"Tell you what we'll do, we'll count out," declared Jess, her eyes dancing.

"A good idea," hailed the others.

"Roy, you start it; but remember, not more than three can go."

"Why?" inquired Peggy point blank.

"Because we'll have to take the car, and someone must be left to look after Aunt Sally and the aeroplanes," spoke Roy, falling in with Jimsy's plans.

"Well, come on and count out," urged Jess.

"Yes, that's it. Let's see who will be it," cried the others.

"Very well, if I can remember the rhyme," responded Roy. "How does it go anyway?"