If the man was really likely to die from his wound, that would end all hope of learning from him the names of those associated with him in the crime. If the fellow would soon recover, then a clue to the whole chain forged by the friends of the murderers for the destruction of the boys might be discovered. “Well?” asked Havens as the surgeon lifted his face in a moment. Instead of answering directly, the surgeon sniffed the air. “You’ve had a fire here?” he questioned. “Never mind the fire now,” said Havens, impatiently. “Give me your opinion of this man’s condition. Is his wound fatal?” “It is my duty,” said the surgeon, with assumed dignity, “to report this case to the police instantly. But,” he continued, with a subservient bow in the direction of the millionaire, “I’ll give you all the information I can before sending word to the county authorities.” “Holy smoke!” shouted Jimmie. “Why don’t you give it, then?” “Yes, why don’t you give it?” added Carl. “What are you waiting for?” The surgeon regarded the two boys with a glance cold enough to crack the lenses in his eye glasses and turned back to the millionaire. “The man is not fatally injured,” he announced, with a great deal of added dignity. “In fact, I can’t understand why he lies so long in this condition. It can be accounted for, however, on the theory that the bullet in passing along the surface of the skull drove a splinter of bone into the brain. In that case, no recovery can reasonably be expected until after a delicate operation has been performed.” “Well,” Havens decided in a moment, “do you know where there is a hospital to which the man may be taken immediately?” “There are plenty in New York city, of course,” suggested the surgeon. “But,” returned Havens, “I don’t want him taken to New York city, or even placed in the custody of the officers of Westchester county. My desire is that you have him placed in a private hospital and make him your special charge until you receive different instructions. I have reasons of my own, of course, for taking this course, all of which you shall know in due time. Will you do it?” The surgeon replied that he should be most happy to oblige the millionaire, and in a short time the wounded man was reposing on a cot in a private room in a private hospital not far from Long Island sound. “And now, boys,” Mr. Havens said after a short time, “the machines are packed, it only remains for you to take your seats and beat the friends of Phillips and Mendosa to the Pacific coast.” CHAPTER III. A MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE. “We can beat ’em to the Pacific coast, all right!” Jimmie laughed. “Look here,” he went on, pointing to the _Louise_, now being run out of the hangar by the workmen. “There’s a flying machine that’s going to be a world-beater. I ran fifty miles an hour this afternoon, and didn’t put on full power, at that! She’s a bird, is _Louise_!”