Bradbury sat in the tonneau. As they
skimmed along, Roy drew something from his pocket and showed it to the
officer. It was an object that glistened in the wavering moonlight.
"It's a woman's hair comb!" cried the officer in amazement, as he regarded
it.
"Hush, not so loud," warned Roy. "I picked it up where I had the struggle
with the other Roy Prescott. It may prove a valuable clue."
CHAPTER XVI.
MISSING SIDE-COMB.
Some days after the strange and exciting events just recorded, Peggy burst
like a whirlwind into the little room,--half work-shop, half study,--in
which Roy was hard at work developing a problem in equilibrium. It was but
a short time now to the day on which they were to report to the navy Board
of Aviation at Hampton Roads, and submit their aerial craft to exhaustive
tests. Both brother and sister had occupied their time in working like
literal Trojans over the _Golden Butterfly_. But although every nut, bolt
and tiniest fairy-like turn-buckle on the craft was in perfect order, Roy
was still devoting the last moments to developing the balancing device to
which he mainly pinned his hopes of besting the other craft.
From the newspapers they had been made aware that several types,
bi-planes, monoplanes and freak designs were to compete, and Roy was not
the boy to let lack of preparation stand in the way of success.
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