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Updated: May 20, 2025
Nothing had ever been heard of the professor from the day he started from the Atlantic side of the isthmus, intending to cross the mountains and land on the Pacific beach. And it was becoming a positive mania in the mind of Andy, who lived with his guardian, Colonel Josiah Whympers, to some day go down there and follow in the track of his lost father, in the hope of discovering his sad fate.
It happened that he passed the home of Colonel Josiah Whympers, the retired and lame traveler, in whose care Andy had been left by the will which his father had made before starting on what had proven his last air voyage. "Guess Andy's gone to bed," he mused, as he saw the house wrapped in darkness, for it was now after half past nine.
And no sooner had he alighted than the lad discovered that there was a buzz of excitement about the place, for several men were conferring and the chief himself seemed disturbed. He looked eagerly at Frank as the boy came forward and started to relate what had occurred on the preceding night out near the residence of Colonel Josiah Whympers.
Some were only six or eight miles away, while others might be double that and more. Frank knew where the road ran that passed the Whympers place and when finally the police head got Shelby he pricked up his ears. Immediately he saw Chief Waller show signs of sudden interest. A smile crept over his face as though he were hearing news that pleased him.
"That's good!" he heard the sympathetic neighbor remark, as he moved on. Five minutes later and Frank once more found himself approaching the Whympers place. As before, the house was in complete darkness, as if the inmates were long since abed. Frank knew that the old man kept early hours, seldom sitting up, for he read much during the day, having nothing else to look after.
Then the aeroplane dropped lightly down close to the hangar back of the Bird home, where Andy and his father, the professor, lived, together with old Colonel Whympers, the veteran who used crutches or a cane on account of his rheumatism, brought on, he always declared, not by age, oh! no, but the wounds he received many years ago, when he was fighting for his country in the great civil war.
Immediately the face of the chief began to light up and an eager glow shine in his eyes. It seemed as though what Frank was telling must have given him a connecting link that he had found himself badly in need of. "Now we know where he went!" he exclaimed, calling to one of his men. "Go out to Colonel Josiah Whympers', Green, and see what traces you can get of him."
If you are not a real Whymper it is better not to be in the crowd of foolish beings who imagine themselves Whympers, but to rest content, like Fan, in the valley below. I am very glad not to be asked for advice, but if you ask my opinion I can say, judging from what I have seen of Fan, that I believe she has made a wise choice. Her capabilities and appearance would make her a very nice shop-girl."
"It wouldn't take him long to do what little work was necessary, in our shop, which you know my old guardian, Colonel Whympers, built for us before we found my father, when he was marooned in that valley in South America, a prisoner for many months, because the cliffs around prevented him from escaping. And of course he'll gallop out here on your saddle horse, Mr. Quackenboss."
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