“How do you know but what you aren’t done for now?” asked Ned grimly. “We’ve got you fast, and your confession is enough to send you to jail. Kidnapping is a serious crime, you know.” “I don’t mind going to jail,” whimpered Kenny. “That would be better than being killed—never knowing when the blow was going to fall. If I’m in jail they can’t get me. And they’ll try to, for they’ll soon know I didn’t carry out my end of the bargain.” “Well, you’re going to jail all right!” declared Tom. “It may be the best and safest place for you, and I surely will feel better when you’re behind bars. But what’s the game, anyhow? Why should Schlump and those two masked men want to do me harm?” “I can’t tell you,” Kenny faltered. “I have betrayed them enough as it is, and I’m not going to say any more. I give up—that’s enough for you—and I warn you to look out. Now all I want is protection from them. Have me locked up; I deserve it.” This Tom and Ned had decided at once to do. But they were still suspicious over Kenny’s sudden breakdown after his capture. That might be a plot to throw them off the track, to enable the other plotters to get in their work. Tom resolved to be on his guard. Koku and some of the others in the plane car had come out on hearing voices, and in a few words the young inventor explained what had happened. “I keep him,” said Koku significantly, as he took hold of Kenny. “Don’t let him kill me!” pleaded the prisoner. “He won’t hurt you—that is, if you don’t try to get away,” said Tom grimly. “I’m not going to. I’m through, I tell you. Why, if I had wanted to I could have blown you to pieces half an hour ago. Go over there and look!” he exclaimed, pointing to a spot near some empty boxes and cases, that had contained materials used in preparing the landing field. “Take a look, Ned,” suggested Tom, handing his chum the flashlight. In a few minutes Ned came back bearing an object, at the sight of which some of the workmen cried: “It’s a bomb! Look out!” “The firing apparatus has been taken out—here it is,” said Kenny, and he took something from his pocket. “It can’t go off the way it is,” he added. A quick inspection on the part of Tom proved the truth of this. A bomb had been concealed in the rubbish, and, had it gone off, it very likely would have wrecked the _Osprey_, and, possibly, have injured or killed those in the car. “But I couldn’t do it,” confessed Kenny. “I had it all ready to plant and was going to set the time fuse when I weakened.” “Why did you do that?” asked Tom, still suspicious. “To tell you the truth, it was because I couldn’t bear to wreck such a fine machine as you have made,” Kenny admitted, and there was a bit of pride in his voice and look. “I’m a good mechanic,” he went on. “You found that out in the shop before I was discharged, didn’t you?” he asked. “Yes, you were an expert in your line,” admitted Tom.