CHAPTER XVIII--OUT ON BAIL

Andy's heart warmed up and he felt that the tide was turning. Parks was an energetic, impulsive man, and generally put through what he started at. His hearty greeting showed what he thought of Andy and the charge against him.

"Is that the sheriff coming?" he demanded impatiently of the officer or guard at the door of the room.

"He'll be here soon," was the reply, "we have sent for him."

"Come over here, Andy," directed the aeronaut, leading the way to a corner of the apartment so the others could not overhear their conversation. "I want to talk with you. Now then," he continued, as they were seated by themselves, "tell me the whole story."

"I wish I had done it before," began Andy, and then he recited his experience with Talbot and the details of the barn burning.

"Guesswork and spitework, eh? The whole business," flared out Parks. "They haven't a foot to stand on in court. I'll see that you have the right kind of a lawyer when the case comes to trial. All I am anxious about is to get you back to camp double quick. You know the race takes place day after to-morrow."

"Yes, I know it only too well," replied Andy; "I've worried enough about it."

"Here comes my man, I guess," interrupted Parks, as a portly consequential-looking person entered the room.

"I wanted to see you about this young man," explained Parks. "They've shut him up here on a false charge, and I want to get him out. He's a trusted employee of mine, and I need him badly in my business."

"You want to give bail, do you?" inquired the sheriff.

"Every dollar I've got, judge," responded the aeronaut with emphasis, "so long as he gets free."

"The bail is two thousand dollars, and I suppose you know the bondsman must qualify as a real estate owner in the county."

"I'm not that, judge," said Parks, "but I've got some money." He pulled out a roll of bills. "I've got nigh onto one thousand dollars personal property, and I'm going to earn the aviation prize down at Montrose day after to-morrow."

"Considerably up in the air, part of your schedule, eh?" remarked the sheriff, smiling, "I'm afraid we can't accept you as a bondsman. Residence here as a real estate owner is absolutely necessary."

"Why, do you think I would leave you in the lurch or a boy like Andy sneak away. No sir-ree! You can trust me, Mr. Sheriff."

"I don't doubt that, but the law is very strict."

Parks paced the floor excitedly. He looked disappointed and bothered.

"I've got to do something--Andy has just got to be at the aviation meet day after to-morrow. I've got it! Say, suppose I could line up two thousand dollars through friends, in cash, mind you, couldn't I hire some man in Princeville to go on the bond?"

"It is very often done," acknowledged the sheriff.

"Then I'll do it. Andy, I'll be back here to-morrow. Mr. Sheriff, you can fix the papers for quick action. I'll raise that two thousand dollars if I have to mortgage everything I've got. I've got some friends and I own a farm out West."

"Just a word, Mr. Parks," said Andy.

"What is it, lad?" inquired the aeronaut.

"I wish you would get word to a lawyer at Greenville, a Mr. West, about something. He expected to see me yesterday, and I was arrested before I could get to him."

Andy explained about the advertisement and the lost pocketbook. Mr. Parks was very much impressed and interested over his story.

"Why, Andy," he commented vigorously. "There's something strange about all this."

"There is probably something very important for the man who lost the pocketbook," said Andy. "I don't want the lawyer to think I fooled him."

"Can you find the pocketbook, Andy?"

"Unless it has been removed from the place where it was three weeks ago, I am sure that I can."

"H-m, this sets me thinking," observed Parks. "I'll see that the lawyer gets the message, Andy. I'll be back here to-morrow."

"Mr. Parks," said Andy seriously, "I don't think you had better try to raise the money. It will be harder than you think, and all this will take up your time and attention away from the airship race."

"There won't be any airship race for me if you are out of it, will there?" demanded Parks.

"Why not? You can surely find someone to take my place. It's the _Racing Star_ that is going to win the race, not the man at the lever. He's got to keep his eyes open, but the machine is so far ahead of anything I've seen, that a careful, active pilot can hardly fail to win."

Parks looked dubious and unconvinced.

"I'm going to get you out of here," he maintained stubbornly, and, knowing the determined character of his employer, Andy went back to the lockup believing that he would keep his word.

"What's the news, Andy?" inquired Chase eagerly.

"The best in the world, Mr. Chase," replied Andy brightly.

"Are they going to let you out?"

"I hope so, soon."

Andy had told Chase something about his circumstances, and now told him more, mentioning the airship race.

"I say, you shouldn't miss that, should you, Andy?" excitedly proclaimed Chase. "I wish I could help you. I can in time. I have a good mind----"

Chase paused mysteriously, and began stumping about in his usual abstracted, muttering way.

Andy sat down on a bench as there was a movement at the cell-room door.

"Here, give this man shelter for the night and something to eat," ordered the turnkey. "Turn him out in the morning."

"Hello!" spoke Chase, evidently recognizing a regular habitue of the place, "it's you again, is it?"

"On my rounds, as usual," grinned the newcomer, a harmless-looking, trampish fellow.

"Been in some other lockup, I suppose, since we saw you last?" insinuated Chase.

"No, Wandering Dick and I have been following a show. You see----"

"Who? Say that again," interrupted Chase excitedly.

"Wandering Dick."

"Where is he now?"

"Three days ago I left him about fifty miles south of here."

"Is he there now?"

"I think so. The show broke up and that threw me out, but Dick talked about staying around Linterville till he could panhandle it south for the winter."

"See here," said Chase, drawing out his pocketbook. "There's a ten-dollar bill," and he flipped over some bank notes.

"I see there is," nodded the tramp wonderingly.

"I'll start you out with a good breakfast and that money in the morning. I want you to find Dick, bring him here, and I'll give you each as much more money when you do."

The tramp looked puzzled, then suspicious, and then alarmed.

"See here," he said, "what are you going to work on us, same old charge?"

"Not at all. I want Dick to answer a half dozen questions, that's all, and then you are both! free to go."

"Say, let me start to-night!" said the tramp eagerly.

"No, it's too late," replied Chase. "There's no train until morning."

Andy had overheard all this conversation. Wandering Dick was the name he had heard Chase speak once before, and he had coupled it with the suggestion that in some way Wandering Dick was concerned in the incident of Farmer Jones' burned-down barn.

Andy slept in a good bed and got up early in the morning, believing that the new day would bring some developments of importance in the situation.

The tramp was started off by Chase, breakfast was over, and Chase had been let out by the turnkey into the main room. He came rushing back in a few minutes carrying an armful of towels for jail use.

"Andy," he chuckled, throwing his load recklessly on a bench and slapping his young friend gleefully on the shoulder, "You're free!"