For a moment Havens was almost dazed by the information. It meant that word of his departure, and of that of the boys, had at last reached the friends of Phillips and Mendoza on the Pacific coast. In some manner the nature of his mission was known there at Monterey, and the friends of the two outlaws were already busy. “The first to do,” Havens suggested, as they passed down the stairway, “is to notify the officers.” “The fellow who claims the machine insists that he is acting for the officers,” answered Stroup, the garage man. “Well,” continued Havens, “we’ll have to take the sheriff and the chief of police out there, and find out whether he does represent the officers or not. We can soon settle his case.” “I’m afraid,” Stroup replied hesitatingly, “that we won’t find any machine there when we get back. It was just a riot!” he continued angrily. “The machine not there!” shouted Havens leaping for the door. When he reached the porch in front of the little hotel he missed Stroup and looked back. The garage man stood in front of the clerk and the house detective who were attempting to place him under arrest for the assault recently committed. Enraged at the delay the young man hastened back into the hotel office. “What’s the trouble here?” he demanded. The whiskey-faced man standing beside the clerk tapped a brass badge on the lapel of his coat significantly. “I’m the house detective!” he declared. “Glad to know you!” answered Havens. “What’s up?” “I’m arresting this man for assault and battery, and for resisting an officer. He’s committed an outrageous attack on the clerk.” Stroup passed an inquiring glance at the millionaire, and Havens quietly amused yet still anxious, gave a slight nod. The next instant the maul-like fist of the garage man shot out with lightning rapidity, and the clerk and the house detective tumbled over on the floor. Before the clerk could straighten his necktie, or the house detective staunch the flow of blood from his nose, Havens and Stroup were well out of the house and on their way toward the threatened flying machine, both looking rather sober. As luck would have it, the hotel ’bus was just backing up to the walk a short distance away, and the two fugitives immediately boarded her. “Drive to the aeroplane!” shouted Stroup. “Isn’t that rather indefinite?” asked Havens. “We can’t afford to lose any time, you know.” “Every man, woman, and child in town knows where the flying machine is long before this!” answered the driver with a smile. “I’ve sent three loads out there this morning now,” he added. As the ’bus lumbered away, half a dozen excited individuals dashed out of the hotel door and shouted for the driver to draw up. For a moment the fellow hesitated and then began pulling on the reins. “Get a move on! Get a move on!” shouted Stroup. “But there seems to be other passengers,” argued the driver.