Not many minutes passed ere he was seated in one of the numerous east-bound trains on the Long Island Railroad. His destination appeared to be the station nearest the hangar where the boys had located their workshop. His impatience at the frequent stops increased as the distance lessened. He could scarcely sit still. With his lower lids puckered up into a straight line, drawing crow's feet about the corners of his usually wide-open, frank blue eyes, with little lumps of hard muscle [Pg 32]protruding from the corners of his jaws, and a bright flush showing in his cheeks underneath the ever-present freckles, Jimmie looked very unlike the merry lad his chums were so well accustomed to greet. He was plainly angry. [Pg 32] Scarcely had the train halted at the station where the boys had experienced their difficulty with the motorcycle earlier in the day before Jimmie dropped off. He ran a few steps quickly, then forced himself to a walk. Again he started to run. "Great Frozen Hot Boxes!" murmured the lad, as he strode rapidly along the nearly deserted street. "If Ned could see me now he'd call me to a finish! That's slang, I know, but it goes today!" Turning a corner, Jimmie slowed his pace a trifle until he came near the vacant lot marking the scene of the encounter with the gang of ruffians. Apparently controlling himself with an effort, the boy walked along the fringe of bushes that hid the lot from passers-by. A glance through an opening showed him that the lot was not deserted. Apparently the same group of young fellows occupied the place. Their game of ball, however, had been finished, and they were gathered about a[Pg 33] rudely constructed shelter before which blazed a small fire. In a tin bucket simmered a stew of vegetables and meat. All were intently watching the cook's operations. [Pg 33] "Howdy do, gentlemen!" Jimmie quietly said as he neared the group. Several jumped up in amazement, for all had been too absorbed to note the advent of the newcomer. "Well, what do you want, now?" demanded one of the lads, addressing Jimmie in a gruff tone of voice with a note of menace. "I'm looking for your captain, or whatever you call him," announced Jimmie in even tones that belied the feelings surging within his breast. Not a hint did he give of the storm within. "This ain't no time to be
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