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It was rather a lonely walk into the city, from the woods where the airship had landed, but Tom did not mind it, and, reaching Shagmon, he inquired his way to the home of the sheriff, for it was long after office hours.
In the morning careful calculations were made to enable the travelers to tell when they had reached a point directly over the small city of Shagmon, and, with the skill of the veteran balloonist to aid them, this was accomplished.
At the mention of the airship the official grew somewhat excited. "Are you one of the fellows that looted the bank?" he inquired, when Tom told him how he and his friends had arrived at Shagmon. The young inventor denied the impeachment, and told his story.
"The first thing would be to go to Shagmon, or close to it, I should say," remarked Mr. Sharp. "In what direction is it, Mr. Damon?" "Northwest from where we were. It's a county seat, and that will suit our plans admirably, for we can call on the sheriff for help." "That is if we locate the gang," put in Tom. "I fancy it will be no easy job, though. How are we going about it?"
After securing their booty they had gone to the camp of the tramps at Shagmon, where they hid, hoping they would not be traced. But the words Tom had overheard had been their undoing. The men who arrived at the camp just before the raid were the same ones the young inventor heard talking in the office building.
It's this: We'll go to some quiet place, leave the airship, and then inform the authorities of our suspicions. They can come here and arrest the men who still seem to be hanging out in Morse's office. Then we can get on the trail of this Shagmon, who seems to be the person in authority this time, though I never heard of him before."
Shagmon is the headquarters, not the head of the gang!" "What do you mean?" asked Tom, much excited. "I mean that there's a town called Shagmon about fifty miles from here. That's what the fellow in the office meant. He is going to the town of Shagmon and make Morse whack up. That's where Morse is! That's where the gang is hiding! That's where the money is! Hurrah, Tom, we're on the trail!"
Then, when we descend on the heads of the scoundrels, right out of the sky, so to speak, my men can close in, and bag them all." "That's a good plan," commented Mr. Sharp, "but are you sure these are the men we want? It's pretty vague, I think, but of course the clue Tom got is pretty slim; merely the name Shagmon."
The Sheriff On Board The announcement of Mr. Damon came as a great surprise to Tom and Mr. Sharp. They had supposed that the reference to Shagmon was to a person, and never dreamed that it was to a locality. But Mr. Damon's knowledge of geography stood them in good stead. "Well, what's the first thing to do?" asked Tom, after a pause.
"Let's first get to Shagmon," suggested the balloonist. "We'll select some quiet spot for a landing, and then talk matters over. We may stumble on the gang, just as you did, Tom, on the men in the office." "No such good luck, I'm afraid." "Well, I think we'll all be better for a little sleep," declared the eccentric man. "Bless my eyelids but I'm tired out."
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