the young inventor. "Ask Central to ring that number again. We'll be there in a jiffy. Maybe he'll come to the telephone again. Or he may even call up his partners and tell them the game is working his way. Try to get him back, Mrs. Damon."
"I will," she said.
And, as she hurried back to the instrument, Tom and Ned shot up toward the blue sky in an endeavor to capture the man at the other telephone.
"And to think it was Peters!" cried Tom into Ned's ear, shouting to be heard above the roar of the motor exhaust.
"I thought he'd turn out to be mixed up in the affair," said Ned.
"Well, you were right. I was off, that time," admitted Tom, as he guided his powerful craft above the trees. "I was willing to admit that he had something to do with Mr. Damon's financial trouble, but as for kidnapping him—well, you never can tell."
They drove on at a breath-catching pace, and it seemed hardly a minute after leaving Mrs. Damon's house before Tom called:
"There's the building where the telephone is located."
"And now for that rascal Peters!" cried Ned.
