"What's up now, Roy?" demanded Jimsy, gazing at his chum, who for his
part appeared to be too excited to get his words out.
"There's only three!" gasped Roy.
"Three what?" cried Jimsy.
"Three aeroplanes," returned Roy.
"Rubbish, you haven't got your eyes open yet."
"I'm right, I tell you; come in and count them if you don't believe me."
"Roy is right," cried Peggy, running up to the group; "the _Golden
Butterfly_ has been stolen!"
"Stolen!" interjected Jimsy.
"That's right!" cried Jess; "those stupid police people left the barn
unguarded. Whoever tried to set it on fire must have returned and stolen
the _Butterfly_."
They regarded each other blankly. Was this Sky Cruise that they had
looked forward to with such eager anticipation to be nothing but a
series of mishaps?
"It's awful!" gasped Peggy; "nothing but trouble since we started out."
"D'ye think it was stolen?" asked the policeman with startling
intelligence.
"Well, it didn't fly of its own accord," was Peggy's rejoinder,
delivered with blighting sarcasm.
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