"Oh, yes!" said Tom, confidently, "Mr. Damon himself knows where he is, and unless he has gone away voluntarily, I think you will soon hear from him."
"What do you mean by—voluntarily?" asked the wife.
"First let me ask you a question," came from Tom. "You said you were awakened by a peculiar noise. What sort of sound was it?"
"Why, a whirring, throbbing noise, like—like"
She paused for a comparison.
"Like an airship?" asked Tom, with a good deal of eagerness.
"That was it!" cried Mrs. Damon. "I was trying to think where I had heard the sound before. It was just like the noise your airship makes, Tom!"
"That settles it!" exclaimed the young inventor.
"Settles what?" asked Ned.
"The manner of Mr. Damon's disappearance. He was taken away—or went away—in my airship—the airship that was stolen from my shed last night!"
Mrs. Damon stared at Tom in amazement.
"Why—why—how could that be?" she asked.
