“Reminds me of circus day,” commented Jimsy, looking about him; “hullo, there’s the Cobweb out already,” he exclaimed presently.

Across the field could be seen the silvery wings of the Mortlake aeroplane.  Several figures hovered about her, adjusting stays and putting finishing touches to her complicated mechanism.

Presently a hush settled over the scene, and the party of naval officers, detailed to superintend the start and take the times of the competing craft, came through the crowd.  They were directing their steps to an unpainted wooden structure at one end of the field.  This building was equipped with various instruments for recording time accurately.  From it also would presently be given out the wind velocity and any other data of interest to the aviators.

The party in full uniform swung past our three young adventurers.  Lieutenant Bradbury was among them.  He bowed and was about to pass on when he stopped and fell back.

“Now, don’t get nervous, and do your best,” he said to Peggy; “I’m sure that we shall all have reason to be proud of the Golden Butterfly before these tests are over.”

“I hope so,” rejoined Peggy; “we shall do our best, at any rate.”

“I know you will, and now if you’ll excuse me I must be hurrying on.  The board has an immense amount of work to do before ten o’clock, the official starting hour.”

The trio, left to themselves, made for the shed which bore the legend “Nameless” above its door.  Many curious eyes followed them as they paused before it, and Jimsy inserted a key in the stout padlock.  Who could the two pretty girls in natty motor bonnets, with goggles attached, the plain, heavy skirts and dark shirt-waists be?  Speculation ran rife.  There was a regular stampede of reporters and photographers to the shed of the Nameless.  But when they arrived there, to their chagrin, they found that their prospective victims had slipped inside and only the blank doors greeted them.

Among the crowd that hastened to try to solve the mystery of the Nameless was Fanning Harding, whose attention had been attracted by the rush of the crowd.  At his side was Regina Mortlake.  They arrived just in time to hear somebody say: 

“It’s two pretty girls and a good-looking boy.  They’re just kids.”

Fanning and Regina exchanged glances.  The girl actually turned pale.

“They are here after all,” she exclaimed, “and I thought you said they weren’t.”

“Well, how on earth was I to know that they had hidden their machine under that name.  There are so many freak craft here that——­”

“You are more of an idiot than I thought you,” said the girl, impatiently; “all our work has gone for nothing.”

“No; there is time yet.  If only Eccles and that other chap hadn’t decamped like that last night, we might have put them to work to-night.”

“They decamped—­as you call it—­because your father wouldn’t give them any more money,” said Regina with flashing eyes, “that was inexcusable folly.  They know too many of our secrets to allow them to wander about unwatched.”