“Was it my wheel?” asked Frank.

“He described it, for the farmer brought both man and wheel to police headquarters, and there can be no doubt but that it’s yours.  And the unfortunate rider answers to Jules.  Now, I’m going to get an automobile at the garage and go over.  If you want to go along I’d be glad to have you, Frank.”

“I certainly would,” replied the boy, quickly.  “I hope the poor fellow didn’t go so far as to break his neck.  But let me go after a machine for you, chief.  I’ve got an errand at the garage anyhow, as my dad wants a mechanic sent up to potter at his little runabout, out of commission as usual.  He’s ordered a better car, you know, and is only waiting for it to be delivered.  Shall I go?”

“Yes.  Tuttle will know which machine I generally use when on official business, for you see the town pays the bill.  Be back as soon as you can, Frank.”

“Yes, sir,” replied the other, hastening away.

The mystery was now solved, and, after all, Puss had been proven innocent on this last count.  Frank laughed to think how amazed Andy would likely be when he heard the news.

“I only hope he doesn’t happen to run across Puss before I get a chance to open his eyes,” he was saying to himself, as he headed for the nearby garage.  “Because I really believe Andy is mad enough to challenge our old enemy and throw the accusation in his teeth.  Then there would be a high old mix-up, with Puss in the right for once.”

It did not take him long to deliver both messages.  He saw a mechanic start off to tackle the disabled runabout for the doctor, so he could carry out his round of morning visits by ten o’clock.  And then a chauffeur ran a car out of the garage into which he invited Frank to jump.

When they arrived at police headquarters the chief was awaiting them.  Evidently he was not at all averse to this delightful spin across country on a fine July morning and with nothing to pay.  Official business might sometimes prove worth cultivating.

Presently they were off.  Frank, of course, knew every rod of the way.  He had more than a few times made the trip over to Shelby on his wheel in company with Andy.  And since they had taken to the air they had looked down upon that road for miles, as they whirled along hundreds of feet up, discovering features about the landscape that they had never dreamed of before they had this “bird’s-eye view,” as Andy delighted to call it, playing upon their own name.

In due time they reached Shelby and drew up in front of the building where the police held forth.  The first one to meet their eyes as they entered was a familiar figure seated in a chair and attended by a doctor and a couple of officers.

“It’s Jules, sure enough!” said Frank, as, despite the many bandages about the head of the man, he recognized the dapper little French aviator with whom he had had more or less trouble in the past.