"Where are you going, Dave?"

"Down to the Aegis hangar. This telegram disturbs me very much. I
have no idea where Mr. Timmins can be, and something must certainly
be done about this contract."

"That's so, Dave," agreed Hiram. "It isn't exactly our business,
but it would be a big feather in your cap to help out the people who
are hiring you."

"That's what I want to do, if I can," replied Dave, as he left the
place.

The youth went straight to the Aegis hangar, where he found Grimshaw
tinkering over a broken airplane wing. Mr. King had a desk in one
corner of what he called his office room.

Dave was free to use this at all times. He opened it now, and for
ten minutes was busy with some railroad time tables he found there.
Then he consulted an aero guide map.

Grimshaw watched him from under his shaggy eyebrows, but said
nothing until Dave got up from the desk, buttoned his coat and
prepared to face the storm again.

"What's the trouble, Dashaway?" he asked.

"Why, Mr. Grimshaw?" inquired Dave, wishing to evade direct
questioning.