As the two boys got outside, they saw a man with his head bent low, darting across the greensward surrounding the construction shed.

“Hi! Hold on! Stop!” shouted Jack.

But the fellow kept on without turning his head. He was evidently making for a lane which ran at the rear of Mr. Peregrine’s grounds. But a high fence separated him from it, a fence which surrounded the estate on all four sides, for Mr. Peregrine had no liking for uninvited visitors.

“He’ll have to stop when he gets to the fence,” panted Tom; “my, but he can run!”

“Yes, and maybe he can show fight, too,” rejoined Jack; “but I guess we can master him.”

“Unless he is armed.”

“He wouldn’t dare to try anything like that here,” was Jack’s reply.

They now perceived suddenly that the man whom they were pursuing had no intention of scaling the fence without assistance. He was making for a spot where a number of empty packing cases that had contained apparatus were piled.

“Pshaw! He’ll escape us after all,” exclaimed Jack angrily, as he saw this.

Even as he spoke the man reached the boxes and scrambled up on them. In the twinkling of an eye he was over the fence, waving an ironic farewell to the boys as he dropped from view on the other side. When Jack and Tom gained the boxes and, in their turn, clambered up on them, there was no trace of the man. But a vanishing cloud of dust far down the lane showed that, in all likelihood, the yellow auto had been waiting for him at the same spot by which he must have entered the Peregrine estate.

The inventor, with Mr. Jesson and young Ralph, had been inside the “war auto” when the pursuit started, so that they were not aware of what had taken place. But on emerging from the metallic wheeled cylinder, they missed the two lads, and came out of the shed to see what had become of them. Their astonishment on learning of the fruitless pursuit may be imagined.

“I wish you could have caught the man,” said Mr. Peregrine; “this plot is deeper than I thought—it’s desperate—and well planned.—Do you think they saw much?”

“Why, from that window he must have seen everything,” said Jack; “and I notice now that one of the panes of glass is broken. He must have been able to overhear considerable of our conversation, too.”

Mr. Peregrine fairly groaned.

“In that case my rivals know of my troubles,” he said, and then, overmastering his depression, he resumed, in a more cheerful tone, “but Pythias Peregrine will fight—yes, sir—to the last ditch—they shan’t steal my invention if I can help it.—They are rich and powerful, yes—but I’ll give them a battle.”

“That’s the way to talk, sir,” said Jack, “and if we can help you win out, we’ll do it. As soon as your machine can move you can take out a patent on it, and then you can laugh at that rascally gang.”

The inventor’s face glowed. He clasped the hands of Jack and Tom impulsively.

“Don’t know what I’d have done if it hadn’t been for you,” he exclaimed; “if only you can make my machine go I will be under obligations to you that I can never repay.”

“Never mind about thanking us till we have accomplished what we hope to do,” laughed Jack, in reply; “and now I think that we had better make arrangements to run over to Boston to-morrow. I’ll spend this afternoon making out a list of the parts I shall need. I’m afraid that they will be quite expensive.”

“I don’t mind a bit about the expense,” declared the inventor eagerly, “if only you can make my machine work.”

The remainder of that afternoon was spent by the two lads looking over Mr. Peregrine’s machine and making careful calculations. No more was seen of the inventor’s enemies, and the night passed without incident, although one of Mr. Peregrine’s employees was posted as a night watchman, and the burglar alarm connecting with the shed that housed the invention was reenforced by additional wiring.

Bright and early the next morning they set about making ready for their trip to Boston. It was a run of seventy-five miles and the roads were not over good, so that they were anxious to get as early a start as possible.

While they were going over the Flying Road Racer, “grooming” the machine, as Jack called it, Mr. Peregrine came up to them.

“I have another mission which I wish you would perform for me while you are in the city,” he said.

The boys looked up from their work.

“What sort of a mission?” asked Jack.

“Well, you see, I’ve been thinking over matters carefully. I have come to a conclusion.—My lawyer, Mr. Bowler, is in Boston—I’ll give you the address later.—I want you to take to him the model of my machine, the blue prints, and a note asking him to take immediate steps to patent my invention.”

“But I thought that you were not ready to patent the machine yet. That you were afraid that by doing so your plans would be forestalled,” objected Jack.

“That’s just the point on which I have changed my mind. I’m certain now that you can make my machine go, and there is no object in holding back the patent any longer. I dare not send the model by express for fear that the plotters may steal it in some way.”

“I think you are right,” said Jack, after a moment’s reflection.

“Very well, then, while you are finishing up your work I’ll wrap the model up. It will have to be packed carefully as it is quite fragile.”

So saying, the inventor walked off to his study to get the model, by which he set so much store, ready for shipment. This did not take long, as the box which was to contain it was already constructed. Very soon he rejoined the boys, with the package in his hands. Mr. Jesson, who was to remain at Pokeville that day to visit some experimental gardens in the vicinity, accompanied him. He added his cautions to the inventor’s injunctions to be very careful of the fragile model.

“You can rest assured that we’ll take good care of it,” was Jack’s reply, “and it will be safe in Boston by noon.”

Had the lad only guessed the dangers ahead of him and the risks he was to run, he would not have spoken so confidently.

At last all was ready, and the model carefully deposited in the back of the machine. Jack took his seat at the steering wheel and started the engine. With a whirr and a bang it was going, and the next instant, with a wave of their hands, the two boys were off on what was to prove an eventful journey. Little Ralph accompanied them. The lad had begged so hard to go that they had not the heart to refuse him, and, after all, as Tom put it, he was so small that he hardly made any difference, anyway.