the front sheet, under a heading of big, black type caught his eye. He started as he read it:
WANTED FOR ROBBERY!
BANK LOOTERS ESCAPE IN RED AIRSHIP—FIRED AT BUT DISAPPEAR
"Great Jehosophat!" exclaimed Tom, in a low voice. "What on earth can this mean?"
"What?" inquired Mr. Damon. "Has anything happened?"
"Happened? I should say there had," was the answer. "Why, we're accused of having robbed the Shopton Bank of seventy-five thousand dollars the night before we left, and to have taken it away in the Red Cloud. There's a general alarm out for us! Why this is awful!"
"It's preposterous!" burst out Mr. Damon. "I'll have my lawyers sue this paper. Bless my stocks and bonds, I!"
"Hush! Not so loud," cautioned Tom, for the pretty waitress was watching them curiously. "Here, read this, and then we'll decide what to do. But one thing is certain, we must go back to Shopton at once to clear ourselves of this accusation."
