Mr. Damon and I, after a lot of trouble, only found his aeroplane shed empty."
"And you want to find out where Andy Foger is building his aeroplane which he has entered in the big race?" asked Miss Nestor.
"That's what I'd like to know," declared Tom earnestly. "Only we can't seem to do it. No one knows."
"Why don't you write to Mr. Sharp, or some one of the aviation meet committee?" asked the girl simply. "They would know, for you say Andy made his formal entry with them, and the rules require him to tell from what city and State he will enter his craft. Write to the committee, Tom."
For a moment the young inventor stared at her. Then he banged his fist down on the arm of his chair.
"By Jove, Mary! That's the very thing!" he cried. "I wonder why I never thought of that, instead of fiddling around in disguises, and things like that? I wonder why I never thought of that plan?"
"Perhaps because it was so simple," she answered, with a pretty blush.
"I guess that's it," agreed Tom. "It takes a woman to jump across a bridge to a conclusion every time. I'll write to Mr. Sharp at once."
