dwick's voice.

"Those fellows will pass through Nestorville. I had a flash of the
number of the car. It was 4206 Mass. It's a red car and a powerful
one, with three men in it."

"What do you want to do?" asked Mr. Chadwick.

"Can't you 'phone to the Nestorville police, telling them what has
happened and have those fellows stopped. I'm not vindictive, but they
ought to be brought to book for running down a man and then speeding
off and leaving him like that."

"I agree with you," replied Mr. Chadwick. "I'll do so at once.
Good-by."

"Good-by," said Jack and "rang off."

"That was a great idea of yours, Jack, old boy," approved Tom. "I hope
they land those fellows."

"Of course it was an accident," said Jack, "but that fellow who was
driving was too busy talking to watch the road, and then going off
like that--they deserve all they get."

Examination of the patch showed that it would hold fast and the bag
was refilled. As soon as it was sufficiently inflated, the Wondership
sailed over to the road and was brought down alongside the still
unconscious man.

"Looks as if he's badly hurt," said Tom with some anxiety.

"It does. His skull may be fractured," agreed Jack. "If he is
seriously injured those fellows may get into trouble."

It required all the boys' strength to raise the man and get him into
the Wondership. Here they laid him out on the floor of the rear
section. They had just done this when the red light signaled Jack
again. It was Mr. Chadwick. He had notified the Nestorville police
force, consisting of a chief and two men, and they were on the lookout
for the offending auto.

"Good," said Jack. "Say, dad, the radio telephone has shown its
usefulness on the first day out, hasn't it?"

They were soon in the air once more. The run to Nestorville was made
quickly. On the outskirts of the town they came to earth and deflated
the balloon bag, since the hospital stood in a group of trees and it
would have been impossible to make a landing there. The Wondership was
converted into an auto and sent speeding toward the main street of the
village.

Suddenly they heard a whir of wheels behind them and an impatient
tooting of a horn. They looked back and uttered a simultaneous cry of
astonishment.

The red auto that had run down the yellow-bearded man was behind them.
Its occupants were shouting and sounding their horn impatiently for
the right of way.

CHAPTER XII.

MAKING ENEMIES.

The roa