“You can tell them what I said,” said the youth; “And they may find it to their interest to call up Mr. Belright Fogg before they give you orders.”

“Have you seen Fogg?” demanded the section boss.

“Yes.”

“Did he say you could take the machine?”

“He said nothing about our taking it.  He settled for what damage the railroad did to the biplane.  We went to get our property and found it gone.  Nobody had a right to touch it, excepting to take it from the tracks.”

“Huh!” grumbled the section boss, and shot into the shanty, banging the door behind him.  Dick heard him shout something into the telephone, and quite a lengthy conversation ensued.

In the meanwhile Stanley had gone off for a policeman and presently came back with a bluecoat who did duty in the streets beyond the railroad yards.

“Well, what have you got to say about it?” demanded Dick, when the section bass came from the shanty and while Stanley and the policeman were approaching.  “Do we get our property or not?”

“It’s yours,” returned the railroad man, and his voice was much milder than before.  “They had no right to give me the orders they did.”

“What about taking it back?” went on Dick.

“I’ve got orders to take it to any place where you want it,” answered the section boss, and he looked anything but happy as he made the confession.

“Then you can run it down to Ashton,” answered Dick.  “Will you do it right away?”

“I guess so—­ I’ll see,” was the answer.

“What do you want me for?” asked the policeman, as he came up.

“I don’t believe you’ll be needed—­ now,” answered Dick.

“It’s all right, Murphy,” put in Jimmy Budley, quickly.  “We had a misunderstanding over orders, that’s all.”

“This young man told me a flying machine had been stolen,” said Murphy, and nodded towards Stanley.

“It was a misunderstanding.  I wasn’t to blame.”  The section boss turned to Dick.  “I’ll get a freight engine to run the car with the machine down to Ashton inside of an hour.”

“Very well,” answered Dick.  “And be careful that the biplane isn’t damaged in unloading.”

“She ain’t much but kindlin’ wood now,” and the section boss smiled a trifle.

“Well, the engine is all right—­ and that’s the valuable part of her,” returned Dick.  “I’ll look for her at Ashton in an hour.”

“Want to ride down on the flat car with her?”

“I’ll see about that.”

The matter was talked over, and in the end it was agreed that Dick and Sam should ride on the flat car, while Tom went with Stanley and Jack Mason in the automobile.  Then the section boss went off to get the freight engine to haul the flat car.

“Got out of that better than I expected,” whispered Sam to his big brother.

“It pays to put on a front, Sam,” was the answer.  “If I had been weak-kneed about it that fellow wouldn’t have done a thing.”