AT THE BALLOON HOUSE.

Late that afternoon Matt and Carl went into Chicago on the train. The young motorist had to sever his connection with the Lestrange people, who were the eastern representatives of the Jarrot Automobile Company, for whom Matt had won the Borden cup during the recent Kansas race.

While Matt was at the office of the Lestrange Company, Carl was to go to the boarding house, settle their bill, and get their baggage.

Meanwhile, Dick Ferral went to the balloon house to keep watch over the Hawk with the two officers on guard there.

The Lestrange people were more than sorry to lose Matt's services. There was no driver who could get more speed out of a racing car than Motor Matt, and it was largely his driving that had won the five-day race at the Coliseum for the Jarrot car. Matt agreed, before he left the Lestrange offices, that if ever he drove in another race, he would give the Lestrange and Jarrot people first chance to secure his services. Then, with his back pay in his pocket, he made his way to the Twelfth Street Station, met Carl with the luggage, and they returned to South Chicago.

Matt and Carl went to the hotel to stay all night, and the two officers who had been on duty at the balloon house, having been relieved by a fresh detail, came in about nine in the evening and informed Matt that Ferral was going to stay at the balloon house until morning.

"Verral is afraidt der machine vill fly avay mit itseluf," chuckled Carl.

"It's all right to be on the safe side," said Matt. "I guess that there won't be anything happen to the Hawk, with two policemen and Dick to look after her."

"Sure nod," agreed Carl. "Vere vill Ferral shleep?"

"There's a small sleeping room in the back of the big shed. Brady used to spend his nights there when he had the air ship under the roof. There's a fixture in the room for supplying the Hawk with illuminating gas. Brady used to manufacture hydrogen, but since the police department has had charge of the air ship, the supply of gas has come from the city gas works. Oh, Dick will be comfortable enough, out there, and when we join him in the morning we'll take his breakfast along."

It was the intention of the three chums to start on their long journey to New York the following morning. Matt had bought a compass and a number of maps covering the country they would cross. For a long time he sat up, studying the maps and figuring on the towns at which they would stop during their flight. It was nearly midnight when he went to bed, and Carl had been snoring for several hours.

Both boys were up bright and early. They ate a hearty breakfast, and Matt had a meal packed away in a box for Dick. It was about half-past six when they were ready to start for the balloon house, and Matt suddenly remembered that the papers completing the transfer of the air ship had not come from the chief.

"I'll go on out to the balloon house with my satchel and the box of grub for Dick," said Matt, "and you go to police headquarters, Carl, and ask the chief for the papers he was to get for me. If the chief isn't there yet, see Harris. It may be you'll have to go to the chief's house."

"All righdt," answered Carl, "schust so you don'd fly avay und leaf me."

"You can bet we won't do that, Carl. We'll wait until you get there before we start."

The two chums separated in front of the hotel, Carl walking rapidly toward police headquarters, and Matt turning toward the outskirts of the town and striding away in the direction of the black smoke from the rolling mills.

Ferral, once more in his sailor rig, was out in front of the balloon house, and gave a yell when he saw Matt coming down the road.

Matt dropped the satchel and lunch box over the fence at the roadside, jumped after them, and then started across the swampy stretch of ground.

"Ahoy, old raggie!" whooped Ferral, whose enthusiasm seemed to have grown during the night. "Our ship's pulling at her cables, just as though she's as anxious to get away as we are. Where's Carl?"

"I sent him to the police department after those papers the chief was to get for us," replied Matt. "Here's some breakfast for you, Dick. Better get on the outside of it as soon as you can. By the way, haven't you some luggage in Chicago you'll want to get?"

"I sent all my luggage through to Quebec. When I travel, Matt, I always travel light. Mighty nice of you to remember my 'scran,'" Ferral added, as he took the box Matt handed him.

While he was eating, the two officers came around the end of the building.

"Our orders was to pull out as soon as you got here, King," said one of them. "You're goin' to leave purty soon, anyhow, ain't you?"

"Just as soon as we can get the Hawk out of the shed. Our Dutch pard will be here by that time."

"I'd like to stay and see you off, but the old woman'll have my breakfast ready, an' there's always a row if I don't get there while it's hot. Good-by, an' good luck to you."

"The same to you, officer."

The policeman started off toward the road, and Matt went around to the front of the balloon house to open the doors. The doors comprised almost the whole end of the building, and when they were open, the interior of the shed was well lighted by the sun.

The Hawk seemed fit and ready for any work she might be called upon to do. As Matt looked at the great swaying bag, the light car and its trim machinery, he experienced a pride in the air ship he had never before known. This was because the Hawk belonged partly to him, now.

While in the balloon house, the air ship was not moored with ropes, but was weighted down with sand bags hung to the under side of the car. A pull of a lever would release all the sand bags.

There was a supply of gasoline in the shed, and also a small amount of oil. Matt filled the gasoline tank and the oil tank, saw that all ropes belonging to the car were safely stowed, and that propeller and steering rudder were working properly.

By the time he had finished his survey, Ferral had got through with his breakfast and had joined him.

"See anything of Carl, Dick?" asked Matt.

"He wasn't in sight when I came in," replied Ferral.

"Probably the chief wasn't at his office and Carl had to go to his house. He'll be along pretty soon, though. It's a fine morning for the start. Hardly a breath of air stirring."

Matt stowed his maps and compass in a little locker close to the driver's chair.

"We've got to have a compass, eh?" grinned Ferral.

"It's just as well to have one," said Matt.

"And charts! Keelhaul me, mate, but this is just like putting to sea in a ship."

"It's about the same thing."

"Only when we make landfall we drop to it. But what's the good of the charts? We'll be off soundings all the time, and no danger of bouncing up on a reef."

"It's a good thing to keep track of the towns we pass. If we need gas, we want to be able to figure on reaching a town big enough to supply it."

"Right-o, mate. I'll lay a month's pay your head's level on the whole business, and that you've figured out everything connected with the cruise. Are we going to follow the railroad?"

"Not much, Dick! We're going to strike a bee line for where we want to go. That's the beauty of traveling in an air ship. You don't have to go around a mountain, or hunt for a place to cross a stream."

"Strike me lucky, mate," jubilated Ferral, rubbing his hands, "I'm mighty glad I stopped over in Chicago to see you, and that we were able to get our hooks on this air ship. The way the thing fell out, it seems like that was how it was meant to be. Everything that's happened has steered us both for the Hawk. If I hadn't dropped into that trap Brady, Jr., laid for me, I wouldn't have been out in the lake; and if you hadn't come along in the Hawk, just when you did, I couldn't have saved my money; and if you hadn't picked me up, money and all, that other lubber would have got ahead of us and grabbed the air ship. Oh, we've been main lucky, all around."

"What will your uncle say," quizzed Matt, "when you write him you have bought an interest in an air ship?"

"Bless the old chap! Why, matey, anything I do is all right for Uncle Jack. If I'd bought a menagerie, or a steam calliope, the old boy would have clapped me on the shoulder and said I'd done well."

"Well," laughed Matt, "that's mighty nice—for you. Suppose we get the Hawk out of the shed? By the time we do that, Carl ought to be here."

"Aye, aye, my hearty! How do you go to work to warp the craft out of her berth? You'll have to tell me what to do, until I can learn the ropes."

"All we've got to do," said Matt, "is just to take hold of the car and pull the air ship through the door. These sand bags hold her steady. Be careful, though, that the gas bag don't strike the side of the door. It would cost us a lot of money, and delay us for a week or two, if we were unlucky enough to rip the fabric."

By working carefully, the boys got the front part of the Hawk through the end of the shed and into the open air. Matt was at the front of the car, and Ferral was at the rear. While the young motorist bent to his work, he heard a noise as of running feet.

Straightening himself quickly, he whirled around. Four roughly dressed men were rushing at him from the corner of the shed. The rascals were plainly hostile, as their clinched fists and their scowling faces proved. One of the scoundrels, who was within arm's length of Matt, halted and aimed a blow at him. Matt deftly evaded the blow. By then the others were near enough to take part in the set-to.

"This way, Dick!" yelled Motor Matt, as he struck down one of the ruffians.