Dave Dashaway, Air Champion: or, Wizard Work in the Clouds

CHAPTER XIV
THE NEW HELPER

Bruce replaced the cap back over his injured ears and smiled at his two friends.

“No, not exactly football,” he replied. “It was worse than that.”

“Whew!” whistled Dave. “You must have been ‘up against it,’ as Borden would say.”

“Up against a grindstone; yes,” assented Hiram. “Go ahead, Bruce, and let’s hear about it.”

“It’s a long story about how my father died, and how Martin Dawson got hold of his estate,” began the homeless orphan. “I’ll tell you all the particulars of that some time, and maybe you can advise me, and help us to get our rights. Old Martin Dawson has treated me meanly. He hired me out to all kinds of hard work, and half-starved me, and kept me in rags. As I told Hiram when I first met him, Mr. Dawson had a regular set of bad men around him. They were all rough characters. There was one fellow who traveled with circus shows. His name was Wertz. It was about two years ago when Mr. Dawson farmed me out to him. Wertz tried to train me for the trapeze, but I wasn’t limber enough for that. Then he said he would use me in his knife-throwing act. He made me stand against a wooden shield while he threw knives at me. I’ve got two bad scars on my body now, where he missed, and the knives cut into me. Then one day when practicing he clipped off a little piece of my right ear. I ran away from him then, but he got me back. I made him agree that after that he wouldn’t aim at my head, only my arms and the rest of my body. One night at a circus, though, he got reckless. He aimed at my ear – the left one – intending to set a circle of knives all around my head. One clipped my other ear, as you have seen. It hurt dreadfully, and I fainted away. The audience was roused up about it, and the humane society got after Wertz and he ran away. Then I went back to Mr. Dawson. A doctor fixed up my ears, but they are not quite healed yet.”

This story aroused the sympathy and interest of Dave, and he decided to employ Bruce. The watchman, Dennis, was called away by a partner to a country fair and Bruce was installed as watchman in his place. The young airman knew he could trust him and he found Bruce willing and grateful.

“You see,” proceeded Hiram, “it’s only six days to the meet. Monday the contests begin, and we want to get everything in ship-shape order.”

“That is true,” agreed Dave. “What is it you have to suggest, Hiram?”

The latter drew from his pocket a double printed sheet and handed it to Dave.

“I got one of the first programmes,” explained Hiram.

Dave scanned it casually. He had been informed in advance, as had most of the entrants, of the nature of the various contests. Towards the last, however, something new and unexpected met his glance.

“‘Mail delivered – twenty stations, minimum altitude two hundred feet’ – what does that mean?” and he looked keenly at his assistant as the latter began to laugh and chuckle.

“That, Dave,” answered Hiram with a great deal of satisfaction, and some pride – “that means me.”

“Oh!” observed quick-witted Dave, thinking back, and guessing hard, “those leather bags – ”

“You’ve hit it,” acquiesced Hiram. “The idea came to me while we were practicing at the Midlothian field. I reckoned it wouldn’t be hard to work up the management to including a mail delivery feature in the programme, so I set to practicing. And I’ve been at it on the sly ever since,” added the speaker with a laugh.

“Go ahead, Hiram,” encouraged Dave. “You don’t usually stop half way, and you have got more than that to tell.”

“Why, yes, I have,” admitted Hiram. “When I was a boy – I mean a real little fellow – I was always good at pitching quoits, and such things. I was the local champion at ‘Duck on the Rock.’ I saw an article in the newspapers discussing the idea of establishing an airship route to deliver mail bags. I practiced. First, Dave, I was going to tell you, and have you work up the idea. Then I thought how busy you were and – well, I’ll wager you I can win the twenty point score on the mail feature over anybody in the contest.”

“Well; twenty points isn’t to be sneezed at,” commented Dave briskly. “It may be a saving clause for us.”

“I suggested that programme number to the management,” went on Hiram. “I showed them the newspaper article about it. Now of course a lot of fellows will be getting in trim for it, but don’t forget that I have had three weeks’ practice ahead of them. Oh, Dave, I forgot till now – another thing: I met the policeman you took in the Ariel after that diamond robber.”

“What did he say, Hiram?”

“The man died without coming back to consciousness. Those diamonds will never be found now, unless they locate the partner he passed them to.”

“Have you seen anything of Borden lately?” asked Dave.

“I’ve seen him, in fact I’ve passed right by him at the Syndicate camp half a dozen times, but he turns away, or scowls at me. It’s part of his ‘acting’ you know. He isn’t ready to report to us yet, but I know he will when he is ready to do us some good.”

Dave went away alone an hour later for a flight with the Ariel over the sand dunes.

“It’s a good time to clean house,” suggested Dave to Hiram, before leaving, and the latter and Bruce, following his orders, cleared out a lot of rubbish that obstructed the garage space. This they proceeded to burn up.

“Here’s a box with a lot of catalogues, and some papers in it,” said Bruce, lifting the article from the top of a barrel.

“Dump them into the fire,” ordered Hiram.

“Maybe they are some good,” suggested Bruce, looking over the litter, and then he uttered so strange a cry that Hiram regarded him curiously.

Bruce had taken from the box and unrolled a sheet of manilla paper. It was the one which bore the crayon portrait of the man who had tried to blow up the two airships at the Midlothian grounds.

“Hiram,” spoke Bruce in a quick troubled tone, “where did you get this? I know that man!”

“You do!” exclaimed Hiram, pressing closely to his side. “Who is he?”

“It’s the man I told you about – the knife-thrower, Wertz,” was Bruce Beresford’s reply.

CHAPTER XV
A TERRIBLE DISCOVERY

“Are you sure, Bruce?” challenged Hiram. “You are not mistaken?”

“In that man?” cried his companion, and his face was pale, and his voice was trembling. “Oh, no! it makes me shudder to even look at his picture. Where did you get it?”

“Well, Bruce,” explained Hiram, “that is the man you heard Dave and myself talking about.”

“You mean the one who tried to blow up your machine?”

“That’s him; yes,” answered Hiram. “But, say, I thought he was hanging around with that old fellow, your guardian?”

“He was,” replied Bruce. “You see, he came and went. About two weeks ago I was in dread when Wertz showed up. I imagined he’d be putting me into some new circus training or other. I was afraid he might get it into his head to take Lois away, and train her to ride a horse bareback, or jump through a blazing hoop, or some other trick. I never was so relieved as when he went away again. He’d been waiting for some one to come, I heard. An old crony of his showed up finally, a man who used to come every few months to borrow money, ‘to get staked,’ as he called it; by Mr. Dawson. He was always planning schemes. Why, say,” added Bruce with animation, “I never thought of it till this moment, but I remember now he was in the same line as you and Dave Dashaway.”

“You mean the airship line?” asked Hiram.

“That’s it. I recollect how he used to brag of the big flights he made, and the money he got, and the tricks he played.”

“Who was he – what was his name?” inquired Hiram.

“Vernon.”

Hiram Dobbs grabbed the astonished Bruce by the arm with such fervor that the latter was startled.

“Look here, Bruce,” he cried excitedly, “you don’t know how important this is to us. Why, it connects up the whole scheme to put us out of business, and – ”

Something else suddenly distracted Hiram’s attention and he stopped short, his companion staring at him in wonderment.

“Hush! This way, and easy!” a breathless voice had spoken, and a face appeared around the end of the hangar.

“Mr. Borden,” whispered Hiram to himself. “Stay here Bruce. It’s a great friend of ours.”

It was indeed the tramp-artist who had so unexpectedly appeared. As Hiram came around to the side of the hangar, shielded from the other camps of the field, he found Borden there, looking anxious, and glancing about him as if fearful of being observed by others.

“Quick, Dobbs,” he spoke hurriedly, “where is Dashaway?”

“Dave isn’t around. Did you want to see him? He’s off on a practice flight.”

“How long since?”

“About an hour ago.”

Borden looked disappointed and dismayed. He rubbed his chin in perplexity. Then he asked:

“Do you know where he is?”

“I think I do,” answered Hiram. “He usually goes to the sand dunes about thirty miles down the lake shore.”

“Got your machine, the Scout, handy here?” asked Borden, with increasing urgency.

“Oh, yes – why, Mr. Borden?”

“Then don’t delay a minute,” directed the former tramp, earnestly. “Find Dashaway as speedily as you can. Tell him I came to you. Warn him to get back here, and stay close about the grounds for the next day or two. There’s danger! Don’t neglect what I say.”

With these last words Borden, with a nervous glance across the grounds, at some persons approaching, suddenly darted away from Hiram. In a quandary of doubt and dread, the latter stood for a moment or two watching his movements. Borden walked along near the fence and disappeared behind the next hangar. Then Hiram aroused himself into action. He ran back in front of their own hangar and rolled out the Scout.

“Bruce,” he said hurriedly, “something’s up that may mean trouble for Dave. I’ve got to go after him. Do you want to go with me?”

“I should say I did!” cried his companion eagerly. “Jump in,” ordered Hiram. “Give us a lift,” he called out to a passing guard. “Thanks. Now then, to find Dave!”

The manner and words of the young pilot of the Scout convinced Bruce that something was wrong. He asked no questions, however. As they got into full flight, due south, Hiram was the first to speak.

“You’re our friend, Bruce,” he called back over his shoulder, “and I know you’re interested in anything concerning us or our business. The man who signaled me to the side of the hangar was the man who drew that picture of Wertz.”

“And he’s a friend of yours, too; isn’t he?” inquired Bruce.

“I am sure that he is,” responded Hiram. “He’s acted like one just now, if what he told me is true. He has discovered some new plot against us and has sent me to warn Dave, and tell him to get back to the grounds right away, and stay there.”

“I do hope nothing is wrong, and that you will be in time,” remarked Bruce anxiously.

Hiram drove the Scout to its best paces. He was familiar with the route Dave usually took to reach the sand dunes. There was one especial reach of the sterile stretch which Dave had, so to speak, appropriated as his own private training grounds.

“We’re nearly there,” announced Hiram finally. “I don’t see any trace of Dave or the Ariel, though.”

“Maybe he went further – maybe he has returned home,” suggested Bruce.

“We could hardly miss him,” answered Hiram. “There’s the spot where Dave usually descends,” and he fixed his glance on a patch of stunted field poplars. “There’s something lying on the ground. A man? No, a coat, I think,” and the speaker strained his vision, and set the Scout on a sharp volplane.

He jumped out the moment the machine halted. He ran to the spot where the object lay that had attracted his attention. Bruce followed his example and dashed after him.

“It’s Dave’s coat,” declared Hiram, and he looked worried. “I can’t understand it! The coat is torn and some of the buttons are off – see, on the sand there. He wouldn’t leave it here. What can have become of him, and the machine?”

“There’s a smell of burned wood, or smoke,” here broke in Bruce, and following the scent he rounded the patch of brush and saplings. “Oh, Hiram!” he shouted. “Come here! Come here!”

The young pilot of the Scout reached the side of the staring Bruce to observe with distended eyes what his new friend had first discovered.

Upon the ground was a mass of charred and twisted wreckage. Only the metal parts of an airship remained. Hiram Dobbs recognized what was left of the buoyant Ariel!

CHAPTER XVI
IN DOUBT

Hiram Dobbs sank down on the sand beside the wreck of the Ariel and tears came into his eyes. In a flash the truth dawned upon him. Vandal hands had destroyed the flying marvel upon which such hopes had been built. Dave had been tracked to the present spot and captured; perhaps hurt.

Bruce Beresford stood regarding his new friend, sharing his deep emotion. He rammed his hands into his pockets and clenched them, pacing about the spot to give Hiram time to regain his composure. Finally he walked up to him and touched him on the shoulder.

“Don’t take on so, Hiram,” he pleaded, “please don’t. It may not be the Ariel, you know – ”

“Not the Ariel,” cried Hiram, springing to his feet, his tears becoming angry tears now. “Think I wouldn’t know the Ariel if I came across one spar, or rod of it in the desert of Sahara? The Ariel? Look there!”

The speaker pointed to a place in the blackened twisted mass near the pilot post. A silver plate there bore in script the name of the machine, date and maker. Blackened and abrased as it was Bruce was able to make out the inscription.

“It’s too bad,” he said sorrowfully. “Do you suppose something exploded and set it on fire?”

“No!” shouted Hiram wrathfully, now poking in among the debris. “I can smell kerosene. And there’s the cinders of a bunch of cotton waste. The Ariel was set on fire! And – Dave!”

The thought of his missing friend roused the young pilot of the Scout as no other idea could have done. Bruce was glad to see Hiram come back to his old rushing, go-ahead self. Hiram went back to the coat they had at first discovered. He inspected it more closely this time.

“See, it’s torn as if in a struggle, and the pockets are turned inside out,” he said. “Oh, if we had only received the warning from Mr. Borden sooner! Dave is gone. The same persons who expected him here, and watched for him, have taken him away.”

“But surely they would not dare to injure him,” argued Bruce.

“Perhaps not, but don’t you see that they have spoiled his whole future? They have put his biplane out of the way – they will keep Dave out of the way till the International meet is over.”

“The crowd you told me about – the Syndicate people?” asked Bruce.

“Who else? What will Mr. Brackett say when he hears of this? How am I going to find out where they have taken Dave? Oh!” cried the excited lad, “I’m just half crazy over these doings! Wait here and watch the Scout. They’ll be after that next,” and Hiram sped away, after a sweeping glance in every direction.

He had made out a man with a rake covering the ruts in the straggly winding road that ran across the waste space. He came up with him and asked:

“Have you been here long?”

“All day, here and hereabouts,” was the reply, as the worker rested on his rake and seemed glad to break the monotony of his task in that lonely spot by talking to some one.

“Did you notice an airship within the last hour or so?”

“I did,” answered the old man. “It was over to the north yonder. It did some fancy whirls. I watched it a bit, then I went on with my work. They’re getting common, those flyers.”

“Have you seen anybody over near that clump of poplars?” and Hiram indicated the spot where he had left Bruce and the Scout.

“Why, yes, I did,” answered the road-mender. “Thought it was sort of queer, too. It must have been nigh onto two hours since, when three men, driving a covered wagon, drove off from the road here. They cut across in the direction you say. I wondered why, for the loose sand don’t make easy going for a horse. The hummocks shut them out after a bit, and I thought no more of them until I noticed a lot of smoke near that patch of poplars. I then made up my mind they were campers, come down on a sand-crane hunt.”

“Did you see them after that?” inquired Hiram eagerly.

“I did. Next thing I knew, the horse and wagon cut across back this way. They struck the road here, and went south, the same direction they had come from.”

“Did you notice the men on the seat of the wagon?”

“They weren’t near enough for that, and I’m sort of poor sighted as I get older,” was the reply.

Hiram thanked the man, and hurried back to Bruce.

“I hope you have found out something,” said the latter anxiously.

“Not much that is any good, I fear,” replied Hiram. “We’ll get back into the Scout. It’s just as I guessed it, Bruce. I am satisfied that a covered wagon with three men in it took Dave away and that they went south.”

The country lay under them like a map as they resumed the flight. Hiram followed the road as a guide. At the end of ten miles it ran into a junction of other diverging highways. So far they had not caught sight of any vehicle answering the description of the covered wagon.

They followed the main highway for some distance. Ahead they made out a large town. It was one of half a score dotting the landscape, and the location of large iron plants. As they neared it, and passed roads filled with all kinds of vehicles, and the great industrial beehive spread out for miles, Hiram gave up in despair.

“They’ve got a start of us, and have probably run to cover by this time,” he said. “Oh, Bruce! I don’t know what to do!”

Hiram was in deep distress. He realized that he, only a boy, had on his hands a task that might well baffle the shrewdest detective. A dozen impulses and plans came to his mind, but he rejected them all, fearing to cause complications.

“Indeed, I don’t know what to do,” he said to Bruce. “If I go to the management back at the grounds, they may cancel our entrant, and then Dave may show up. They will want some evidence besides my say so, and my suspicions, before they will be willing to accuse anybody of having a hand in the affair. If I charge that Syndicate mob boldly with having a hand in the burning of the Ariel, it will put them more than ever on their guard, and they will hide Dave closer than ever. Oh, but I must do some tall thinking! Of course the very next thing is to get in touch with Mr. Brackett. We’ll get back to the grounds right away.”

An unexpected shower came up, and pilot, passenger and machine received quite a drenching. The rain had stopped by the time they reached the grounds. It made Bruce Beresford sad to watch the face of his friend. Hiram was like a rudderless boat, without Dave. The responsibilities suddenly thrust upon him seemed to stagger him. He was so harried, worried and flurried that he walked up and down before the hangar, so nervous and stirred up he could not keep still.

“It seems to me, Hiram,” suggested Bruce, “that the best thing to do is to tell the management about the whole business. Surely they will do something to help you.”

“I’m trying to think if it’s best to do that,” responded Hiram. “I’m trying to block out a way to act so I won’t make any mistake. You don’t know this game as well as I do. It isn’t the first time this kind of a thing has happened to us. Let me alone for a bit, Bruce, till I get everything straightened out in my mind.”

“Don’t you bother about the Scout, Hiram. I’ll clean up and get it into the hangar,” said Bruce.

He rubbed the metal parts dry and shining and swept up the litter in the cockpit. A good deal of sand had gotten into this. He was pulling out the seat cushions, when something caught his finger, pricking it sharply. It was a metal point of some kind, and looking closer Bruce made out that it was a stick pin.

He picked this up, and as he did so noticed a second pin lying on the seat frame, hitherto concealed by the cushion. A quick flash of intelligence came into his mind. Quite roused up, Bruce shouted to his friend:

“Hiram, come here, I think I’ve made an important discovery!”

CHAPTER XVII
TROUBLE

It was hard for the young pilot of the Scout to set his mind upon anything outside of his missing chum. As Hiram approached Bruce, however, it was quite natural that he should be attracted by two dazzling sparks of flashing light.

“Diamonds!” cried Bruce, moving the two pins about so as to display their brilliancy to advantage.

“Sure as you live!” agreed Hiram. “Where did you get them?”

“I found them behind, and under the cushion of the cockpit seat. Don’t you understand, Hiram?”

“How they got there? I don’t.”

“Why, it’s clear, to my way of thinking. The man the police chased, who made you take him in the Scout– ”

“Why, say, that may be so,” agreed Hiram with a start. “He must have been loaded with them, to drop them around promiscuously that way.”

“They slipped from his pocket probably,” explained Bruce. “I don’t believe he had got rid of his plunder, as the police think, when he made for the Scout. I believe he had them with him, else what are these pins doing here? Hiram, you said it was Wayville, didn’t you? That was the town nearest to the place where the robber fell into the gully.”

“You’ve remembered it so pat you must have heard of it before,” suggested Hiram, with a shrewd glance at his companion.

“That’s so,” answered Bruce. “I was there once. It was when the circus man, Wertz, was in hiding. I was traveling with him then. He and some other men at the show robbed an old farmer, and had to get out of the way. It was near Wayville that we stayed for a week, till things ‘blew over,’ as they called it. In fact, when you described that thicket and the gully, it came right back to me, as natural as life. It’s set me thinking, Hiram. I’ve got a theory, somehow, that the diamond thief got rid of his plunder after he left the Scout.”

“Shouldn’t wonder,” remarked Hiram rather indifferently, “but we’ll talk about that some other time. My mind is full of nothing but Dave and the Ariel just now. I’ve decided what I’m going to do, and you are to help me do it, if you will.”

“I’m glad, Hiram,” responded Bruce readily. “I’ll work my finger nails off to be of any use to you, or your partner.”

“I know that, Bruce,” said Hiram, “and I know that I can trust you, which is a great relief to me now, when I’m in such trouble. Bring that bench out of the hangar, will you?”

“What for, Hiram?” asked Bruce in some wonder.

“I want to have a long talk with you, and I want to sit here in the open while we’re at it, so we can watch out that no one hears us.”

Bruce brought out the bench, setting it near the Scout, and facing the grounds in such a way that they could see in three directions. Hiram’s face wore a serious, business-like look as he sat down beside his young friend.

“Maybe I’ve got it all wrong,” he began, “but I’ve tried to imagine just what level-headed Dave Dashaway would do if he were in my fix. Of course I haven’t got his brains or smartness, but I know one thing – he wouldn’t get rattled. So I’m trying not to fly all to pieces and do all kinds of rash things. There’s two men I want to see and get word to.”

“Who are they?” inquired the interested Bruce.

“First, Mr. Brackett.”

“Oh, sure, him!” exclaimed Bruce. “I’ve thought that all along.”

“He’s the head of all our plans,” went on Hiram. “He’s a good business man, he’s rich and powerful, and he’d know how to handle this muddle better than I. Mr. Brackett must be seen, and you can get ready to take the first train for the town where he has his plant, Bruce.”

This looked like a pretty important mission to Bruce. He was silent, however, as his companion proceeded:

“You are to see Mr. Brackett, tell him everything that has occurred, and ask him to send me instructions as to what I am to do. He will probably come right back with you. I hope so. There’s a train leaving here inside of two hours. You will get to the little Ohio town where the Aero plant is located by early morning. Then, I suppose, Mr. Brackett will wire me.”

“See here, Hiram,” interposed Bruce, “do you think it’s as good for me to go as yourself? There’s lots of things in detail about the plots that have been working against you that I don’t know about and you do.”

“No,” answered Hiram definitely, “I can’t go. As I told you, there were two men to see about this affair.”

“Yes, I remember. Who is the other one?”

“Mr. Borden.”

“Oh, I see,” said Bruce promptly. “Yes, indeed. If he’s the true-blue fellow you think he is he can do something to help you.”

“He gave us that warning,” remarked Hiram. “He knew that something was going to happen. He was on the watch for our benefit.”

“But Mr. Borden doesn’t dare to show himself here and you can’t go to the Syndicate camp,” argued Bruce.

“I’ve got to see that man just as soon as I possibly can,” said Hiram, his eyes snapping with determination. “You leave that to me. I’ve got to go down to the offices of the meet for some money. You get ready to start for the train as soon as I come back.”

Bruce smiled to himself as he proceeded to “get ready.” His wardrobe was not very extensive, and he could pack in his pockets the extra collars and handkerchiefs that comprised it. Hiram came back in half an hour, and handed him some bills.

“Here’s a time-table,” he added. “I shall be anxious till I hear from you.”

“Say, Hiram,” said Bruce, “that fellow, Valdec – ”

“Yes, what about him?” demanded the young airman, sharply.

“He strolled by here while you were gone. He was with one of the crowd that hangs around their camp. He looked at me and scowled. Then he grinned.”

“I’ll go with you down to the train,” said Hiram. “Then I’ll know what he was grinning about, or my name isn’t Dobbs!”

The boys kept their eyes open on the way to the railroad depot. No one of the Syndicate crowd seemed to be following, or watching them, however.

“Tell Mr. Brackett everything, Bruce,” directed Hiram, “and get me word just as soon as you can.”

“Hope for the best, Hiram,” said Bruce cheeringly. “There’s surely some way out of this trouble for two smart fellows like you and Dave Dashaway.”

Hiram waved his hand in adieu to Bruce as the train started. Then Hiram proceeded back to the hangar, his lips compressed and his face looking resolute.

“Now to wait until dark!” grimly soliloquized the young pilot of the Scout.