erately
arose and made his way toward the judges' stand, to which Hal Homer and
the Bancrofts, the core of a shouting, yelling mob of enthusiasts, were
already conducting the daring driver of Number Six.

Special policemen made a path for the aviator and his friends, while
cries of:

"Take off your helmet!"

"We want to see you!"

"What's the matter with Number Six?" and a hundred other cries arose.

But the driver of Number Six did not respond, and with his helmet still
on his head was conducted before the judges to receive their
congratulations. The helmet was still in place when Fanning Harding came
shoving through the crowd and finally reached the little group.

"As a competitor I demand that Number Six take off his helmet!" he cried.

The judges turned to him in astonishment.

"This is most unseemly, sir," said one of them; "no doubt in good time
Mr. Prescott will take off his helmet."

"Oh, no, he won't," shouted Fanning, at whom all the group was now
gazing. "He won't, I tell you, and for a good reason, too. _That's not
Roy Prescott at all, but his sister Peggy._"

But the words had not left his lips before Jimsy, with a quick motion,
jerked off the aviator's helmet and disclosed the handsome, perspiring
features of Roy himself.

In the few minutes he had had, Roy had found time briefly to explain how
he and his sister had changed garments.

"Well, I guess that settles that question," cried Jimsy triumphantly, as
a mighty shout went up.

"It certainly does," said one of the officials. "Where is that young
scamp? Officer, find the young man who made that accusation and bring him
here to explain himself."

But the disgruntled Fanning had dived off into the crowd the instant he
saw into what a tremendous blunder he had fallen. And although a strict
search was made for him he was not to be found.

CHAPTER XXI.

THE PHANTOM AIRSHIP.

In the midst of the hum and excitement and the crossfire of questions
which immediately followed, there occurred a startling interruption. From
the further side of the grounds there arose a cry, which swelled in
volume as it advanced.

"Fire! One of the hangars is on fire!"

The group immediately broke up and orders and commands flew thick and
fast. In the midst of the excitement Roy and his chums found an
opportunity to slip away.

"There's the fire. Off by our hangar!" shouted Hal Homer, pointing across
the field.

By the side of the Prescott's green