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<p>Book cover</p>
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<div class='nf-center-c1'>
  <div class='nf-center'>
    <div><span class='small'>“WHY, IT’S DASHAWAY!” </span></div>
    <div><span class='small'><i>Dave Dashaway the Young Aviator&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Page 204</i></span></div>
  </div>
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<div class='pbb'></div>
<hr class='pb c000' />

<div class='nf-center-c1'>
<div class='nf-center c001'>
    <div><span class='xlarge'>Dave Dashaway</span></div>
    <div><span class='xlarge'>the Young Aviator</span></div>
    <div class='c002'>Or</div>
    <div class='c002'>In the Clouds for Fame and Fortune</div>
    <div class='c003'>BY</div>
    <div><span class='large'>ROY ROCKWOOD</span></div>
    <div><span class='fss'>AUTHOR OF “DAVE DASHAWAY AND HIS HYDROPLANE,” “DAVE</span></div>
    <div><span class='fss'>DASHAWAY AND HIS GIANT AIRSHIP,” “THE GREAT</span></div>
    <div><span class='fss'>MARVEL SERIES,” ETC.</span></div>
    <div class='c003'>ILLUSTRATED</div>
    <div class='c003'>NEW YORK</div>
    <div><span class='large'>CUPPLES &amp; LEON COMPANY</span></div>
    <div>PUBLISHERS</div>
  </div>
</div>

<div class='pbb'></div>
<hr class='pb c000' />

<div class='nf-center-c1'>
<div class='nf-center c004'>
    <div>BOOKS FOR BOYS</div>
    <div>BY ROY ROCKWOOD</div>
    <div class='c002'><b>DAVE DASHAWAY SERIES</b></div>
    <div class='c002'>12mo. Cloth. Illustrated.</div>
    <div class='c005'>Price per volume, 40 cents, postpaid.</div>
  </div>
</div>

<div class='lg-container-b'>
  <div class='linegroup'>
    <div class='group'>
      <div class='line'>DAVE DASHAWAY THE YOUNG AVIATOR</div>
      <div class='line in2'>Or, In the Clouds for Fame and Fortune</div>
      <div class='line'>DAVE DASHAWAY AND HIS HYDROPLANE</div>
      <div class='line in2'>Or, Daring Adventures Over the Great Lakes</div>
      <div class='line'>DAVE DASHAWAY AND HIS GIANT AIRSHIP</div>
      <div class='line in2'>Or, A Marvellous Trip Across the Atlantic</div>
      <div class='line'>DAVE DASHAWAY AROUND THE WORLD</div>
      <div class='line in2'>Or, A Young Yankee Aviator Among Many Nations</div>
    </div>
  </div>
</div>

<div class='nf-center-c1'>
  <div class='nf-center'>
    <div class='c002'><b>THE GREAT MARVEL SERIES</b></div>
    <div class='c002'>12mo. Cloth. Illustrated.</div>
    <div class='c005'>Price per volume, 60 cents, postpaid.</div>
  </div>
</div>

<div class='lg-container-b'>
  <div class='linegroup'>
    <div class='group'>
      <div class='line'>THROUGH THE AIR TO THE NORTH POLE</div>
      <div class='line in2'>Or, The Wonderful Cruise of the Electric Monarch</div>
      <div class='line'>UNDER THE OCEAN TO THE SOUTH POLE</div>
      <div class='line in2'>Or, The Strange Cruise of the Submarine Wonder</div>
      <div class='line'>FIVE THOUSAND MILES UNDERGROUND</div>
      <div class='line in2'>Or, The Mystery of the Center of the Earth</div>
      <div class='line'>THROUGH SPACE TO MARS</div>
      <div class='line in2'>Or, The Most Wonderful Trip on Record</div>
      <div class='line'>LOST ON THE MOON</div>
      <div class='line in2'>Or, In Quest of the Field of Diamonds</div>
    </div>
  </div>
</div>

<div class='nf-center-c1'>
  <div class='nf-center'>
    <div class='c006'><span class='small'>Copyrighted, 1913, by</span></div>
    <div><span class='sc'>Cupples &amp; Leon Company</span></div>
  </div>
</div>

<hr class='c007' />

<div class='nf-center-c1'>
  <div class='nf-center'>
    <div><span class='sc'>Dave Dashaway the Young Aviator</span></div>
  </div>
</div>

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<hr class='pb c000' />

<div class='nf-center-c1'>
<div class='nf-center c001'>
    <div>CONTENTS</div>
  </div>
</div>

<table class='table0' summary=''>
<colgroup>
<col width='13%' />
<col width='76%' />
<col width='9%' />
</colgroup>
  <tr>
    <td class='c008'>CHAPTER</td>
    <td class='c009'></td>
    <td class='c010'>PAGE</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td class='c008'>I.</td>
    <td class='c009'><a href='#chapI'><span class='sc'>Dave Dashaway’s Model</span></a></td>
    <td class='c010'>1</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td class='c008'>II.</td>
    <td class='c009'><a href='#chapII'><span class='sc'>From the Clouds</span></a></td>
    <td class='c010'>11</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td class='c008'>III.</td>
    <td class='c009'><a href='#chapIII'><span class='sc'>Breaking Away</span></a></td>
    <td class='c010'>19</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td class='c008'>IV.</td>
    <td class='c009'><a href='#chapIV'><span class='sc'>Dave Dashaway’s Hideout</span></a></td>
    <td class='c010'>31</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td class='c008'>V.</td>
    <td class='c009'><a href='#chapV'><span class='sc'>Making Off</span></a></td>
    <td class='c010'>41</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td class='c008'>VI.</td>
    <td class='c009'><a href='#chapVI'><span class='sc'>Cadmus</span></a></td>
    <td class='c010'>49</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td class='c008'>VII.</td>
    <td class='c009'><a href='#chapVII'><span class='sc'>Robbed</span></a></td>
    <td class='c010'>56</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td class='c008'>VIII.</td>
    <td class='c009'><a href='#chapVIII'><span class='sc'>A Startling Surprise</span></a></td>
    <td class='c010'>64</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td class='c008'>IX.</td>
    <td class='c009'><a href='#chapIX'><span class='sc'>Making His Way</span></a></td>
    <td class='c010'>71</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td class='c008'>X.</td>
    <td class='c009'><a href='#chapX'><span class='sc'>At the Hangars</span></a></td>
    <td class='c010'>81</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td class='c008'>XI.</td>
    <td class='c009'><a href='#chapXI'><span class='sc'>The Air King</span></a></td>
    <td class='c010'>89</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td class='c008'>XII.</td>
    <td class='c009'><a href='#chapXII'><span class='sc'>A New Friend</span></a></td>
    <td class='c010'>97</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td class='c008'>XIII.</td>
    <td class='c009'><a href='#chapXIII'><span class='sc'>A Start in Business</span></a></td>
    <td class='c010'>104</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td class='c008'>XIV.</td>
    <td class='c009'><a href='#chapXIV'><span class='sc'>His First Airship Ride</span></a></td>
    <td class='c010'>112</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td class='c008'>XV.</td>
    <td class='c009'><a href='#chapXV'><span class='sc'>The Parachute Garment</span></a></td>
    <td class='c010'>120</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td class='c008'>XVI.</td>
    <td class='c009'><a href='#chapXVI'><span class='sc'>The Young Aviator</span></a></td>
    <td class='c010'>128</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td class='c008'>XVII.</td>
    <td class='c009'><a href='#chapXVII'><span class='sc'>Kidnapped</span></a></td>
    <td class='c010'>138</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td class='c008'>XVIII.</td>
    <td class='c009'><a href='#chapXVIII'><span class='sc'>An All Night Captivity</span></a></td>
    <td class='c010'>145</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td class='c008'>XIX.</td>
    <td class='c009'><a href='#chapXIX'><span class='sc'>Another Mistake</span></a></td>
    <td class='c010'>152</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td class='c008'>XX.</td>
    <td class='c009'><a href='#chapXX'><span class='sc'>In Training</span></a></td>
    <td class='c010'>160</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td class='c008'><span class='pageno' title='I' id='Page_I'></span>XXI.</td>
    <td class='c009'><a href='#chapXXI'><span class='sc'>The Amateur Trophy</span></a></td>
    <td class='c010'>169</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td class='c008'>XXII.</td>
    <td class='c009'><a href='#chapXXII'><span class='sc'>A Night Adventure</span></a></td>
    <td class='c010'>177</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td class='c008'>XXIII.</td>
    <td class='c009'><a href='#chapXXIII'><span class='sc'>A Great Surprise</span></a></td>
    <td class='c010'>184</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td class='c008'>XXIV.</td>
    <td class='c009'><a href='#chapXXIV'><span class='sc'>Something Wrong</span></a></td>
    <td class='c010'>191</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td class='c008'>XXV.</td>
    <td class='c009'><a href='#chapXXV'><span class='sc'>Conclusion</span></a></td>
    <td class='c010'>200</td>
  </tr>
</table>
<div class='pbb'></div>
<hr class='pb c000' />
<div>
  <span class='pageno' title='1' id='Page_1'></span>
  <h1 class='c011'>DAVE DASHAWAY <br /> THE YOUNG AVIATOR</h1>
</div>
<div>
  <h2 id='chapI' class='c001'>CHAPTER I</h2>
</div>

<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c004'>
    <div>DAVE DASHAWAY’S MODEL</div>
  </div>
</div>

<p class='c012'>“You don’t mean to say that new-fangled air
ship of yours will fly, Dave Dashaway?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“No, it’s only a model, as you see.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Would the real one go up, though?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“It might. I hope so. But this is a start,
anyway.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, and a fine one,” said Ned Towner, enthusiastically.
“You’re a smart boy, Dave, and
everybody says so.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I wish my dear old father was living,” remarked
Dave in a tone of sadness and regret.
“There wasn’t much about sky sailing he didn’t
know. In these times, when everybody is so interested
in airships, he would be bound to make
his mark.”</p>

<p class='c013'>The two, manly-appearing youths stood in the
loft of the dilapidated old barn of Silas Warner’s
place in Brookville. It held a work bench and
some tools, and on one end of the bench was the
model at which they were looking.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='2' id='Page_2'></span>It was neat enough and intricate enough, being
made by a mere lad, to have attracted the attention
of any inventor or workman. An outsider,
however, would have been puzzled, for
while its shape suggested a bird kite with an umbrella
top, it had so many rods, joints and levers
that a casual observer would have wondered
what they were all there for.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave showed a good deal of pride in his model.
It had cost him all his loose change to buy the
material to construct it, and many a busy hour
during the preceding few weeks. He sighed as
he turned from it, with the words:</p>

<p class='c013'>“All I need now is some silk to cover those
wings. That finishes it.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Then what will you do?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Well,” replied Dave vaguely, “then I hope I
can find some practical airship man who will tell
me if it’s any good.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Say, it will be a fortune if it works, won’t it,
Dave?” exclaimed Ned.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Oh, hardly that. They are getting up so
many new kinds all of the time. It would get
me into the swim, though. All I want is to have
a chance to make the acquaintance of some expert
airman. I reckon the flying fever was born
in me, Ned.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='3' id='Page_3'></span>“Well, that’s quite natural,” responded Ned.
“Your father must have been famous in his line,
according to all those scrap-book articles you
showed me the other day.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Anyhow, I’m getting tired of the dull life
I’m leading here,” went on Dave seriously. “I’d
like to do something besides slave for a man who
drives me to the limit, and amount to something
in the world.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Good for you!” cried Ned, giving his friend
and chum an encouraging slap on the back.
“You’ll get there—you’re the kind of a boy that
always does.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Hey, there! are you ever going to start?”
rang out a harsh, complaining voice in the yard
outside.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave hurriedly threw an old horse blanket
over his model and glanced out of the
window.</p>

<p class='c013'>“It’s Mr. Warner,” he said, while Ned made
a wry face. “I’ll have to be going.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Old Silas Warner stood switching his cane
around and growling out threats, as Dave reached
the yard and crossed it to where a thin bony horse
and an old rickety wagon stood. The vehicle
held a dozen bags filled with potatoes, every one
of which Dave had planted and dug as his
hardened hands bore proof.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='4' id='Page_4'></span>“You’ll quit wasting my time, Dave Dashaway,”
carped the mean-faced old man, “or
there’s going to be trouble.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I was just showing Ned about the loft,” explained
Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yah! Fine lot of more valuable time you’ve
been wasting there, too,” snorted old Warner.
“I’ll put a stop to some of it, you mark me.
Now then, you get those bags of taters down to
Swain’s warehouse and back again afore six
o’clock, or you’ll get no supper. There’s a lot
more of those taters to dig, but an hour or two
this evening will finish them.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave’s face was set and indignant, but he
passed no more words with the unreasonable old
man who called himself, and was in fact, legally
his guardian.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I’ll keep you company as far as our house,”
said Ned, as Dave got up into the wagon seat,
and he climbed up beside his friend, heedless of
the grumblings of the old man about over loading.</p>

<p class='c013'>“He’s a pretty mean old fellow,” flared out
Ned, as they drove out of the yard and into the
country road leading towards the town. “It’s
the talk of the neighborhood, the way that old
miser makes you work.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I wouldn’t mind the work if he would only
treat me half human,” replied Dave in a subdued
tone.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='5' id='Page_5'></span>“It isn’t in him to do it,” scolded Ned. “If
I was in your place I’d just cut out, and let him
find some other fellow to do his slaving. Why,
my folks say your father left enough to take care
of you in a good way. And send you to school,
and all that. I’d find out my legal rights, if I
were you, and I’d fetch that old fellow to time.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“It would be no use, Ned,” declared Dave.
“I tried it once. I went over to Brocton, where
the lawyer of my father’s estate lives, and had a
talk with him.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“What did he say?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“He said that my father had left no property
except the old hotel at Brocton. It is old, for a
fact, and needs lots of repairs, and the lawyer
says that this takes most of the income and makes
the rent amount to almost nothing. I found out,
though, that the lawyer is a relative of Mr.
Warner, and that Warner gives most of the repairing
jobs to other relatives of his. I went
and saw the court judge, and he told me that Mr.
Warner’s report, made each year, showed up
clear and straight.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Judge another relative of old Warner?” insinuated
Ned.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I shouldn’t wonder.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Neither would I. It’s strange to me, though,
Dave, that your father ever made such a notorious
old skinflint your guardian.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='6' id='Page_6'></span>“He didn’t,” asserted Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Who did, then?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“The court, and I had no voice in it. Mr.
Warner let me stay at the school I was attending
when my father died, for about a year. Then
he claimed the estate couldn’t bear the expense,
and he has had me home ever since.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why don’t they sell the old hotel, and give
you a chance to live like other boys who are
heirs?” demanded Ned, in his ardent, innocent
way.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Mr. Warner says the property can’t be sold
till I am of age,” explained Dave. “That time
I went away and got work in the city, I even sent
Mr. Warner half of what I earned, but he sent
the sheriff after me, made me come home, and
said if I tried it again he would send me to a reformatory
till I was twenty-one.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Say that’s terrible!” cried Ned, rousing up
in his honest wrath. “Oh, say—look there!”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Whoa!” shouted Dave, but there was no
need of the mandate. In sudden excitement and
surprise he had pulled old Dobbin up dead short.
Then he followed the direction indicated by the
pointing finger of his companion. Both sat staring
fixedly over their heads. The air was filled
with a faint whizzing sound, and the object that
made it came within their view for just a minute.
Then it passed swiftly beyond their range of
vision where the high trees lining the road intervened.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='7' id='Page_7'></span>“An airship—a real airship!” cried Ned with
bated breath.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes. It must have come from the big aero
meet at Fairfield,” said Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Is there one there?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes. I read about it in the paper.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Both Dave and Ned had seen an airship before.
Besides two that had passed over the town
the day previous, they had once witnessed an ascent
at a circus at Brocton.</p>

<p class='c013'>Every nerve in Dave’s body was thrilling with
animation. He had dropped the lines, and Dobbin
had wandered to the side of the road seeking
for grass, nearly tipping over the load. Dave
righted the wagon.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Say,” spoke Ned, “stop at the house, will
you?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“What for?” inquired Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I want to ask the folks to let me go to town
with you.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I’ll be glad to have you, Ned.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“All right. You know the common is right on
top of the hill, and one of the fellows said they
could watch the airships yesterday for miles and
miles.”</p>

<p class='c013'>A turn in the highway brought the boys to the
Towner place. Ned ran into the house and soon
returned all satisfaction and excitement, his
pockets filled with cookies and apples.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='8' id='Page_8'></span>“Mother says I can go with you, Dave,” he
said. “I can help you unload, and we can drive
over to the town common and join the crowds.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave’s head was full of airships, and the incident
of the hour made him forget his troubles.
He and Ned chatted and lunched animatedly all
the way to Brookville.</p>

<p class='c013'>The business part of the little town was located
on a hill, as Ned had said, but they did not go
there at once. The warehouse where Dave was
to deliver his load of potatoes was near the railroad,
and there they drove.</p>

<p class='c013'>They found no one in charge of the office, and
had to wait till the proprietor arrived, which was
nearly an hour later. It was quite six o’clock
before they got the potatoes unloaded. Then
Dave drove up the hill.</p>

<p class='c013'>Quite a crowd was gathered in the public
square. The boys hitched old Dobbin near the
post office and joined the throng.</p>

<p class='c013'>Everybody was talking airships. It seemed
that half-a-dozen had passed in full sight. Three
of them had sailed directly over the town. One
of them had dropped about a hundred printed
dodgers, telling about the aero meet at Fairfield,
and Dave was glad to get hold of one of
these.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='9' id='Page_9'></span>The excited throng was in great expectation of
the appearance of another airship. It was getting
on towards meal time, and quite a number
had left the common, when a chorus of sound
echoed out:</p>

<p class='c013'>“A—ah!”</p>

<p class='c013'>“There’s another one.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Hurrah—look! look!”</p>

<p class='c013'>“A—a—ah!”</p>

<p class='c013'>The last utterance expressed disappointment.
A swift sailing aeroplane had come into view,
circled, and was lost to sight over the crest of a
distant hill.</p>

<p class='c013'>There was a great attraction for the chums in
the crowd and bustle about the common. It was
quite dusk before they started away. Dave realized
that he would have to account for every
minute of his time, and expected a scene when
he got back home. He had seen so much, however,
and heard so much talk on his favorite
theme, airships, that a glimmering idea came to
him that he was soon to know more of them.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave kept up his spirits bravely, and he and
Ned chatted over dreams and plans to find a
chance to get over to Fairfield some day soon, and
view all the glories of the great aero meet close
at hand.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='10' id='Page_10'></span>It had become quite dark by the time they
neared the turn in the road leading to the Towner
place. Old Dobbin was plodding along the dusty
road at his usual leisurely gait, when suddenly
Ned stretched out his hand and caught the arm of
his comrade in a great state of excitement.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Whoa!” he cried. “Do you hear that,
Dave?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Sure enough,” responded Dave, checking the
horse, and both of them sat rigid on the wagon
seat and stared up into the sky.</p>

<p class='c013'>“It’s another one of them,” said Ned.
“Listen.”</p>

<p class='c013'>There was a quick snappy sound, like the sharp
popping of an exhaust.</p>

<p class='c013'>There was a flashing streamer of light, outlining
a dark object that both the entranced lads
knew to be a belated airship making its way homeward.</p>

<p class='c013'>At that moment something swished through
the air. Dave did not see it, he rather felt it.
Before his senses had fairly taken it in, however,
old Dobbin made a jump.</p>

<p class='c013'>Ten feet ahead the slow going animal plunged,
as Dave had never seen him do before. Then
he made an affrighted veer. Over into the ditch
went the crazy old vehicle with a crash. Dave,
clinging to the seat, was simply flung sideways,
but his companion was lifted bodily. Head over
heels out of the wagon went Ned, landing sprawling
in the mud.</p>
<div class='pbb'></div>
<hr class='pb c000' />
<div class='chapter'>
  <span class='pageno' title='11' id='Page_11'></span>
  <h2 id='chapII' class='c001'>CHAPTER II</h2>
</div>

<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c004'>
    <div>FROM THE CLOUDS</div>
  </div>
</div>

<p class='c012'>“What’s happened?” shouted out Ned Towner,
in dismay and confusion.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Dobbin ran away, that’s all,” replied Dave
quickly.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why?” asked Ned, righting himself and
looking around him in a puzzled way.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Something struck him.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave made the declaration as he dismounted
cautiously from the wagon. Dobbin lay on his
side as if perfectly satisfied with a rest in the soft
dirt. One wheel of the wagon was splintered
to pieces and the wagon box had caved in on one
side.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Hold his head till I slip the traces,” ordered
Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>They got Dobbin to his feet and managed to
pull the wagon up the slight slant.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Whew!” whistled Ned, “here’s a pretty bad
wreck.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes,” assented Dave soberly. “I don’t know
what Mr. Warner will say about it.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='12' id='Page_12'></span>“Let him say!” flared out Ned. “The old
thing was ready for the junk pile, long ago.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“That won’t help much,” said Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>As he spoke Dave went over to a stretch of
broken fence and dragged a long rail up to the
wagon. This he strapped to the hub of the
broken wheel.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I guess the wagon will drag home,” he observed,
as he hitched up Dobbin anew, “but we
will have to walk.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Say,” broke in Ned suddenly, “you think
something hit the horse and started him up?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I am sure of that,” declared Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Then I’ll bet it’s one of those Bolgers. See,
we’re right at the end of their lot. You know
they pelted you once before?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I know that,” admitted Dave, “but I don’t
see or hear anything of them just now.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Oh, they’d lay in ambush in that brush yonder
all night to play a trick on either of us,” insisted
Ned.</p>

<p class='c013'>The Bolgers were a family crowd very numerous
and troublesome. They had often pestered
Dave in the past, and, aroused by the suggestion
of his comrade, Dave walked back the road a
dozen feet or so, peering sharply into the straggly
brush lining it.</p>

<p class='c013'>“What is it, Dave?” inquired Ned, as his
friend uttered a quick cry. He noticed that Dave
had come to a short stop and was stooping over
in the road.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='13' id='Page_13'></span>“My foot kicked something,” explained Dave,
groping about. “Why, I wonder what this is?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“What?” put in Ned curiously.</p>

<p class='c013'>“It’s a bundle of some kind.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why, yes,” added Ned, peering sharply at
the object in Dave’s hand. “It looks like a
rolled-up sweater.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Some one must have dropped it from a
wagon,” said Dave. “There’s something else
here than a sweater, though.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Let’s have a look at it,” suggested Ned
eagerly.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Hold on,” said Dave, as his comrade reached
out to unroll the wadded-up bundle. “It’s too
dark to make out anything plain.”</p>

<p class='c013'>The moon had not yet come up, and on that
tree-lined road it was pretty dark. Dave moved
up to the wagon. Under the front seat was an
oil lantern, and he secured this and lighted it.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why, I should say there was something else
besides a sweater!” exclaimed Ned excitedly,
as Dave unrolled the garment on the seat cushion.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, there’s a pocket book,” said Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Open it—let’s see what’s in it,” suggested
Ned.</p>

<p class='c013'>“A watch,” spoke Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='14' id='Page_14'></span>“And some money. Why, this is a big find,
Dave! Wonder who lost it? And look, there’s
a medal—a gold medal.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave took this up and inspected it closely.
His fingers trembled with excitement as he did so,
for the pretty bauble suggested the theme nearest
and dearest to his heart.</p>

<p class='c013'>The main plate of the medal was chased with
the outline of an airship. Pendant from this by
two tiny gold chains was a little strip of metal,
and on this was inscribed the words: “Presented
to Robert A. King by the C. A. A. First Endurance
Prize.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why, I know where this came from!” cried
Dave suddenly.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Do you?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Where?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“It fell out of that airship that just went over
us. It was this bundle that hit the horse and
made him run away.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why—why—” stammered Ned in great excitement.
“Do you think so?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I am sure of it. That name there, too—‘King’.
I read about him being down at the
meet at Fairfield in a paper yesterday, and ‘C. A.
A.’ means Central Aero Association.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Is there much money, Dave?” questioned
Ned.</p>

<p class='c013'>“About fifty dollars.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='15' id='Page_15'></span>“What are you going to do with it?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Return it to the owner.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Of course, but how are you going to get it
to him?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I’ll find a way,” replied Dave thoughtfully.
“He will be pretty glad to get back that medal.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I should think so, too.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave carefully replaced the pocket book in the
sweater, rolled it up, and stowed it in the corner
of the seat space. Then he took up the lines and
started up Dobbin, both he and Ned walking
along beside the wagon.</p>

<p class='c013'>Ned had been dazzled with the sight of the
valuable contents of the sweater bundle, and could
talk of nothing else. Dave let him talk, and did
not say much. He had the broken wagon and a
thought of the way that mishap would stir up his
guardian on his mind, and it was not a very
pleasant thing to think about. At the same time,
Dave had a vague glimmering idea that events
were framing up that brought him in closer touch
all the time with aeronautics.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Say, Dave, I’ll go home with you if you
like,” suggested Ned, as they neared the Towner
place.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Thank you, Ned, but I don’t think you had
better.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I could help you put up the horse and all that,
you know.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='16' id='Page_16'></span>“No,” responded Dave definitely. “There’s
a storm to face, and I might just as well face it
alone and have it over with.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Tell me what you decide to do about getting
that stuff back to the airship man, won’t you?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I certainly shall.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I wish you could arrange to take it to this Mr.
King yourself, Dave,” went on Ned. “He would
be sure to appreciate it, and help you get an insight
into the doings down at the aero meet in
which you are so interested. Well, see you to-morrow!
Good night!”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Good night, Ned,” responded Dave, and
started on his lonely way. He wondered how his
guardian would take his late coming and the
broken wagon. As the rail supporting the
broken wheel clattered over the rutty road leading
into the yard, Dave drew Dobbin to a halt
and stared up wonderingly at the one side window
of the barn loft.</p>

<p class='c013'>There Dave saw a light, or rather the receding
radiance of a light, as if some person was just
descending the stairs with a lantern. It was a
very unusual circumstance for anybody to visit
the loft except himself. He had always used it
as a work room, the grain and hay being stored in
a shed built onto the stable. The next moment
Mr. Warner came out from the barn.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='17' id='Page_17'></span>He carried a lantern in one hand. In the other
was a big sledge hammer. The old man looked
ugly, excited and was out of breath. The moment
he caught sight of Dave he hurried forward,
dropping the hammer.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Aha! so you’ve got home at last, have you?”
he snarled.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, sir. I’m afraid I am a little late,” said
Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“A little late—a little late!” snarled the old
man. “You’re two hours behind time. Now
then, I want to know what this means?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I was delayed in finding Mr. Swain at the
warehouse,” explained Dave, “but I don’t make
that an excuse. There were some airships going
over the town. Everybody was looking at them,
and I couldn’t help doing it myself.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Airships!” shouted Warner. “Well, there’s
one airship, as you call ’em, that won’t fill your
head with nonsense any more.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“What do you mean?” inquired Dave anxiously.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I mean that I won’t stand you loitering and
wasting my time any more,” declared Dave’s
guardian. “I mean that I’ve settled one end of
your nonsense. I’ve smashed that crazy model
of yours, and if I hear any more of this airship
rot, I’ll give you the trouncing of your life.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“You’ve—smashed—my—model!” gasped
Dave, in unspeakable amazement and dismay.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='18' id='Page_18'></span>“Yes, I have. What about it?” challenged
the irate old tyrant.</p>

<p class='c013'>“You dared to—” began Dave, his face on
fire, and he felt as if he could no longer control
himself. Then fortunately at just that moment
there was a diversion. His guardian’s eye chanced
to fall upon the dismantled wagon with one wheel
gone and the box supported by the dragging fence
rail.</p>

<p class='c013'>With a shriek of rage that was almost a bellow
he grabbed Dave by the arm and dragged him
up to the wrecked vehicle.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Who did that?” he raged. “Don’t tell me—it’s
a piece of spite work! Who did that, I
say?”</p>
<div class='pbb'></div>
<hr class='pb c000' />
<div class='chapter'>
  <span class='pageno' title='19' id='Page_19'></span>
  <h2 id='chapIII' class='c001'>CHAPTER III</h2>
</div>

<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c004'>
    <div>BREAKING AWAY</div>
  </div>
</div>

<p class='c012'>Dave Dashaway was almost speechless. His
tyrant master had struck him in a tender spot, indeed.
Not that Dave had ever been foolish
enough to build extravagant hopes on his model.
It had been all guess work and an experiment.
However, his soul had been wrapped up in his
labor, he had been proud and pleased with his
progress as an inventor, and that mean, vengeful
act of the old man roused him up terribly.</p>

<p class='c013'>“What busted that wagon?” demanded Mr.
Warner, grasping Dave’s arm till the pain was unbearable.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave jerked loose, and panting and angry-faced
confronted his guardian with a look that
made the old man hesitate. His lip trembled, but
he held his speech as steady as he could, as he replied:</p>

<p class='c013'>“Dobbin got scared and ran into the ditch.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“With your star-gazing after those airships
I’ll warrant.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='20' id='Page_20'></span>This was so near the truth that Dave did not
reply.</p>

<p class='c013'>“What do you suppose will pay for all that
damage to that wagon?” demanded Warner.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I suppose my hard work will,” bluntly replied
Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Your hard work—bah! It looks as if you
was worked hard, fritting half of the afternoon
away, spending hours and hours on that worthless
piece of trumpery up in the barn loft. I’ve settled
for good and all. Now you put up that
horse, get your supper, and go to your room.
You dare to leave it till I say so, and I’ll just call
the sheriff up here again, and see what he says
about affairs.”</p>

<p class='c013'>This was an old-time threat of his guardian.
It was worn so threadbare that Dave did not pay
much attention to it. He proceeded silently
about his task, unhitched Dobbin, led him to his
stall, and made him comfortable for the night
with feed and bedding.</p>

<p class='c013'>As Dave came out into the yard again he made
a speedy run for the wagon. His guardian had
been poking about the vehicle, and had discovered
the sweater roll. This he now held, turning it
over and over in his hand and viewing it curiously.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Here!” shouted Dave, “that’s mine.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Oh, is it?” snapped the old man, holding the
bundle out of Dave’s reach. “What is it? I’m
going to see.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='21' id='Page_21'></span>“I don’t mean that it belongs to me,” Dave corrected
himself, “but I found it.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“What is it?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“It fell out of an airship. It lighted on Dobbin’s
back. That’s what made him run away.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Fell from an airship?” repeated old Warner
with a sniff of disbelief. “Romancing, hey?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“No, I am not, I am telling you the truth,” persisted
Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Hello! hello! Here, what’s this?”</p>

<p class='c013'>Mr. Warner had opened the sweater. His
miserly old eyes fairly gloated over the pocket
book and its contents. His thin cruel lips moved
as if he was smacking them over a meal.</p>

<p class='c013'>“You found this, you say?” he inquired.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, I did,” responded Dave brusquely, none
too well pleased with the way things had turned
out.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Well, finders keepers!” chuckled the old man
with a cunning laugh.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Nobody is going to have that pocket book
but the owner,” said Dave staunchly.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I’ll arrange about that, you young insolent!”
retorted Mr. Warner.</p>

<p class='c013'>“You’ll have to, in the right way, too,” asserted
Dave, who was quite nettled.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Eh—what’s that?” shouted the old man.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Just what I said. If you will look at that
medal in that pocket book, you will find that the
owner’s name is on it. It is ‘Robert King’. All
<span class='pageno' title='22' id='Page_22'></span>you’ve got to do is to send his property back to
him. I happen to know that he is at Fairfield
now, and a letter directed there would reach
him.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Say,” blurted out old Warner, “I know what
to do, I guess, about my own business.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“This is my business, too,” insisted Dave. “I
found that property, and I’m honest enough to
want to get it right back to the man who lost it.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“You get into that house quick as you can, and
mind your own business and keep your mouth
shut, or I’ll make it pretty interesting for you,”
bawled the old man.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave closed his lips tightly. He had gone
through a pretty trying ordeal. It had made him
almost desperate. It had come so thick and fast,
one indignity after another, that Dave had not
found time to break down. His just wrath over
the destruction of the model was lessened by the
appropriation of the sweater bundle.</p>

<p class='c013'>“There’s something I won’t stand,” declared
Dave, as he made his way into the house. “I
know who that property belongs to, and if Mr.
Warner tries any tricks, I’ll expose him.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave felt sure that his tyrant master would not
do the square thing. He might not dare to keep
the pocket book and its contents and say nothing
about it. Dave felt sure, however, that in any
event Mr. Warner would not give it up without
<span class='pageno' title='23' id='Page_23'></span>a big reward. This humiliated Dave, somehow,
on account of his father and his own liking for
aeronautics. Dave felt more than kindly to one
of that profession, and would have been glad to
return the lost pocket book for nothing.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave glanced into the kitchen as he passed its
open door. The scraps of food on the uncovered
deal table did not at all appeal to his appetite.
Besides that, he was too stirred up to care to eat.
He went up to his little room in the attic and sat
down at the open window to think.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave felt that a crisis in his affairs had been
reached. His mind ran back rapidly over his
past life. He could find nothing cheering in it
since the time he was removed from a pleasant
boarding school upon the death of his father.
The latter had been traveling in foreign parts at
the time giving lectures on aeronautics, of which
science he was an ardent student.</p>

<p class='c013'>Since then old Silas Warner had led his young
ward a very wretched life. Several letters had
come addressed to Mr. Dashaway. These Mr.
Warner had not shown to Dave, but had told him
that they amounted to nothing of importance.
Dave had noticed that these, with some other
papers, his guardian kept in a strong manilla envelope
in his desk.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='24' id='Page_24'></span>Dave had known nothing but neglect and hardship
with Silas Warner in the past. He saw no
prospects now of any betterment of his condition.
After what had happened during the day the man
would be more unbearable than ever.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I’ve got to do it,” murmured Dave, after a
long period of painful thought. “My life will
be spoiled if I stay here. I’ll never learn anything,
I’ll never amount to anything. There is
only one way out.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave got up and paced the floor of the darkened
room in greatly disturbed spirit.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I’ll do it,” he added a moment later, with
firmness and decision. “I’ll be true to my name—it’s
a ‘dash away’ for freedom. Yes, I’ve
made up my mind. I’m going to run away from
home—if this can be called home.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Old Warner had told Dave to go to his room
and remain there until further orders. In his
present state of mind, however, Dave cared little
for that. He was so excited that the air of the
close low-ceilinged roof room seemed stifling to
him. The lad got out through the window and
clambered down the remains of an old vine trellis
without trouble. Too many times at night when
he could not sleep had he stolen out thus secretly to
work on his pet model in the barn loft, to miss
his footing now. Dave reached the ground, went
over to the pasture lot and threw himself down
upon the grass. His hands under his head, staring
up at the stars, he rested and reflected.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='25' id='Page_25'></span>The more he thought the more was he resolved
to leave Brookville. He would leave it that night,
too, he decided. He knew that when his guardian
discovered his absence he would raise a great
hue and cry and try to find him, just as he had
done before.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I’ll move as soon as he goes to bed,” planned
Dave. “That will give me a safe start away
from Brookville.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave decided to regain his room by the route
he had left it. As he again neared the house,
however, he noticed a light in the sitting room
which his guardian usually occupied evenings.
As Dave made out Silas Warner and observed
what he was about, he glided to a thick bush near
the open window and peered curiously through
its branches.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave saw Mr. Warner seated at the big cumbrous
desk. He had thrown the sweater on the
floor at his side. The pocket book lay open on
the desk, and its contents were spread out before
their engrossed possessor.</p>

<p class='c013'>The old man was viewing the collection with
gloating eyes. He took up the badge and
weighted it in his hands as if thinking of it only
as to its value as gold. For nearly ten minutes
Dave watched his miserly guardian finger over the
various articles. He knew that it was in his mind
to keep them if he could.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='26' id='Page_26'></span>Finally old Warner restored all the articles to
the pocket book. He took a small box from a
drawer in the desk. Dave had seen it before.
As Warner opened it, Dave again caught sight
of the manilla envelope which he knew held
papers referring to his dead father.</p>

<p class='c013'>The old man locked up the desk and carried the
box to a corner of the room. Here he leaned
over, and Dave saw him lift up a small section of
the floor. When it was set back in place the box
had disappeared.</p>

<p class='c013'>A new train of thought came into Dave’s mind
as he noticed all this. He now knew the secret
hiding place of his miserly old guardian. He
watched the latter take up the lighted candle and
go over to the wing room of the house where he
slept. Mr. Warner reached out of its window
and pulled in a rope, resting its end on the floor
directly beside his bed.</p>

<p class='c013'>This rope ran out to an old swing frame which
held a bell of pretty good size. It had once belonged
to a school house, but had got cracked,
and Warner had got it for nothing. He had
never had occasion to ring it. He had told his
neighbors that he had put it up for protection.
He was a lonely old man, he had said. Some one
might try to rob him. If so, he could alarm his
neighbors and call them to the rescue. This had
given rise to the rumor that the old man must
<span class='pageno' title='27' id='Page_27'></span>have some hidden wealth about the place. To a
stranger, however, the dilapidated old place
would not indicate this.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave waited till his guardian had retired, then
he got back to his room, moving about cautiously.
Dave owned only the rather shabby suit he wore,
but he had some handkerchiefs and the like, and
these he gathered together and made up into a
small parcel. Then he sat down to wait. It was
in order for Dave to depart by the window route
if he so chose, and no one the wiser. Dave,
however, had something further to do before he
left the inhospitable roof of his guardian.</p>

<p class='c013'>It was not until two hours later that Dave ventured
to leave his room. He stowed the parcel
containing his few small personal effects under his
coat and took a piece of unlighted candle in his
hand. Then he groped his way cautiously down
the rickety stairs.</p>

<p class='c013'>In a few minutes Dave was in the sitting room.
He had listened at the entrance to the wing room
in which his guardian slept. He had heard Silas
Warner breathing regularly, and was sure that he
was asleep. Dave carefully closed the door of
the sitting room opening out into the hallway. He
went to the corner of the room where he had seen
his guardian stow away the little box.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='28' id='Page_28'></span>A chair stood over the spot, and this Dave
moved out of place. He lit the candle, and by
poking with his hand soon located a loose section
of the flooring about two feet square.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I’ve found it,” breathed Dave softly, and he
lifted the square from its place.</p>

<p class='c013'>Below showed the usual space found between
beams. Lying across the lower boards was the
box he was after. Dave lifted it out. He found
that it was secured with a small padlock.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I don’t like to do it,” mused Dave, “but there
is no other way.”</p>

<p class='c013'>He found little difficulty in wrenching the padlock,
hasp and all, out of place, for the fastening
was of tin, and flimsy. Then Dave opened
the cover of the box.</p>

<p class='c013'>He took out the pocket book belonging to the
aeronaut. Then he lifted out the manilla envelope.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I don’t suppose there’s anything but old
worthless papers in this envelope,” he decided,
“but it belongs to me, if anybody. The mischief!”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave sprang to his feet in dismay. He had
tilted the square of flooring against the chair
near by. Some way accidentally his hand had
struck it, and it tipped over flat with quite a clang.
Trying to stop it, Dave fell against the chair.
This went over with an echoing crash.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='29' id='Page_29'></span>Dave knew that the windows were double
locked. If he had disturbed old Warner, his only
route of escape was through the single doorway
of the room and down the hallway. So quickly
did he run for the door that he had not time to
blow out the candle.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave opened the door with a violent push.
Once out in the hall he glanced anxiously across
it.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Too bad—too late,” he murmured, as his eye
fell upon his guardian just coming out of his room.
Against the candle light, Silas Warner must have
recognized Dave. The latter was just stowing
the manilla envelope in his pocket, and the old
man must have seen that, too.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Hi, there! Stop! What are you up to?”
bellowed old Warner.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave ran down the hall at the top bent of his
speed. He knew the kitchen door was bolted,
and risked no chance of being stopped by halting
to open it. Indeed, he dodged down a step into a
store room, the window of which was always open.
He was through its sash space with a bolt and a
squirm in a jiffy.</p>

<p class='c013'>Making sure that he had lost nothing in his
flight, Dave put across the yard. The last he saw
of his alarmed and excited guardian was his
frowsled grey head stuck through the buttery window,
bawling frantically:</p>

<p class='c013'>“Stop him! stop thief! stop thief!”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='30' id='Page_30'></span>Dave crossed the yard and the meadow in swift
bounds. He was sorry that his intended flight
had been discovered, and was satisfied that old
Warner would proceed to make a great noise
about it very promptly. However, now started
on his runaway career, Dave resolved that he
would not turn back.</p>

<p class='c013'>“A good swift run, and I’ll get safe and sound
out of the neighborhood,” he told himself. “Of
course Mr. Warner will start a chase after me,
but I’ll get a lead they can’t beat. Hello!”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave Dashaway prepared for a new spurt of
speed as a wild alarm rang out on the still night
air.</p>

<p class='c013'>Clang! Clang! Clang!</p>
<div class='pbb'></div>
<hr class='pb c000' />
<div class='chapter'>
  <span class='pageno' title='31' id='Page_31'></span>
  <h2 id='chapIV' class='c001'>CHAPTER IV</h2>
</div>

<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c004'>
    <div>DAVE DASHAWAY’S HIDEOUT</div>
  </div>
</div>

<p class='c012'>The old cracked school bell back at the Warner
place awoke the echoes far and wide as Dave ran
on. As he came to the corner of the road leading
past the home of his friend, Ned Towner, he
paused for a moment to take breath and estimate
the situation back of him.</p>

<p class='c013'>The bell had by this time ceased its loud clangor.
Dave saw lights appear beyond the house. He
fancied, too, that he heard voices in the distance.
It was not yet very late, and he guessed that, if
only out of curiosity, some of the neighbors would
appear upon the scene.</p>

<p class='c013'>“There’s somebody coming from the other direction.”
He spoke quickly, jumped the ditch,
and plunged in among the clump of underbrush
just in time to avoid three running forms hurrying
down the road.</p>

<p class='c013'>“It’s the Bolger boys,” said Dave, peering
forth from his covert.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Hustle, fellows,” the oldest of the trio was
urging.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='32' id='Page_32'></span>“Yes, there’s some kind of a rumpus up at the
Warner place,” added a second voice.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Hope it’s a fire,” piped in a third, reckless
voice. “That would make a regular celebration,
after the airships.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave, from what he overheard, judged that the
Bolgers were on their way from the village when
attracted by the commotion at the Warner farm.
Others might soon appear, Dave mused, and
struck out across a meadow. He knew that it
would be risky to go into the village or nearer
to it. In a very short time, thought Dave, his
guardian would have the sheriff and his assistants
looking for him.</p>

<p class='c013'>The lad thought rapidly. He planned that if
he could reach the switching yards of the railroad,
he might get aboard some freight car and ride
safely out of the district. He ran along a wide
ditch which lined the Bolger farm, intending to
leap it at a narrow part and cut thence across a
patch of low land to the railroad tracks.</p>

<p class='c013'>“O—oh!” suddenly ejaculated Dave, and fell
flat, the breath nearly knocked out of his body.</p>

<p class='c013'>He squirmed about, wincing with a severe pain
in one ankle, and wondering what had tripped and
still held him a prisoner.</p>

<p class='c013'>“It’s a trap,” said Dave, as he got to a sitting
position and investigated. “It’s a muskrat trap
set by the Bolger boys, I guess.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='33' id='Page_33'></span>The blunt edges of the trap, which was secured
by a chain to a stake driven into the ground, did
not hurt him particularly. It was the severe
wrench, the sudden stopping, that had caused the
trouble. Dave pried the trap loose and got to
his feet.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Hello, this is serious,” he spoke, as he found
that he could not progress without limping, and
then, only very slowly.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave looked about him with some concern.
The commotion in the direction of the Warner
place was increasing. He fancied he heard the
hoofs of a horse coming down the road.</p>

<p class='c013'>“It won’t do to linger here,” he said. “They
would be sure to find me. I don’t believe I can
get to the railroad with this foot. I have certainly
sprained my ankle.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave had done nothing of the kind, but he did
not know it at the moment. The moon was shining
full and high. He looked about him for some
hiding place.</p>

<p class='c013'>He limped along the edge of the ditch, despairing
of being able to cross it. Suddenly a suggestive
idea came to him as he made out the home
of his friend, Ned.</p>

<p class='c013'>“If I can manage to get to the barn on the
Towner place, I know where to hide safe enough,”
he mused.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='34' id='Page_34'></span>His foot hurt him dreadfully, but he kept on,
got past the rails of the pasture enclosure, and
came up to the barn at the end away from the
house and the road. The loft door was open,
and cleats ran up on the outside boards. Dave
sunk down all in a heap in among the fresh sweet-smelling
hay. The pain left him as soon as his
weight was removed from his foot, but he was
quite exhausted from the efforts he had made.</p>

<p class='c013'>The boy rubbed his foot ruefully and listened to
distant sounds floating on the night air. Finally
he crept over to the corner of the barn fartherest
away from the opening leading to the lower floor.
There was no danger of any one coming to that
spot. There was a broad crack in the boards
there, and Dave could look out towards the road.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave caught sight of a horseman dashing along
the highway in the direction of the village. Then
he made out the three Bolger boys returning to
their home. A little later two men appeared.
One of them was leading a horse.</p>

<p class='c013'>“It’s Mr. Warner and our nearest neighbor,
and they’ve got old Dobbin with them,” said Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>He saw his guardian go to the front of the
Towner home. A light appeared inside, and in
a few minutes Mr. Towner came around the
corner of the house with Mr. Warner. The
horse was led up to the barn.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I’m sorry Dave has run away, Mr. Warner,”
Mr. Towner remarked.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='35' id='Page_35'></span>“Oh, we’ll catch him,” replied Dave’s guardian.
“A bad boy, sir, a very bad boy.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why, I never thought that.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“But he is. He broke into my desk, and has
stolen money and other property of mine.”</p>

<p class='c013'>The listening Dave fired up at this bold and
false accusation. He was half minded to go
down into the yard and face his accuser with the
proof of the falsity of his charge.</p>

<p class='c013'>“If you’ll just let me take any old rig to hitch
up Dobbin to, it’ll be an accommodation,” went
on Warner. “That runaway rascal maliciously
smashed the wheel of my only wagon this evening.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Mr. Towner pulled a light vehicle out of a shed,
and Dobbin was hitched up. Silas Warner and
his neighbor drove off, and Mr. Towner went
back to bed.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave was worried and disturbed for a long
time, even after things had quieted down. In his
present crippled condition he did not dare venture
outside. He was snug and safe for the time
being at least, and finally he dropped off into a
sound sleep.</p>

<p class='c013'>The youth awoke to find the sun shining through
the half-open hay door. He crept over to it as he
fancied he heard some one moving about in the
yard below. Dave was gratified to find his foot
in much improved condition over the night previous.
It was still a bit lame and stiff, but he
could bear his weight upon it without flinching.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='36' id='Page_36'></span>“Glad the ankle isn’t sprained or broken,” he
told himself cheerfully. “I believe I could walk
with it, and maybe try a run, if I had to.”</p>

<p class='c013'>He was much refreshed by his sleep, but both
hungry and thirsty. His face brightened up considerably
as he heard some one clucking in the
chicken yard, and glancing down recognized Ned
Towner.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave did not know who might be in the stable
below or in the vicinity. He leaned towards the
loft door and gave a low but distinct whistle.
It was one he and his chum used often in signalling
one another.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Hello!”</p>

<p class='c013'>Ned Towner dropped the pan out of which he
was throwing corn to the chickens. He looked
about him in a startled way. Then he came out
of the poultry yard, trying to locate the source
of the call.</p>

<p class='c013'>“It’s Dave,” the lurker in the hay loft heard
him mutter. “No one else—Dave.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“S—st!”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave had shown his face and waved his hand
from the door aperture.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Dave!” repeated Ned, in still further wonderment.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, it’s me,” responded Dave in a hurried,
cautious tone of voice. “Anybody else about?”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='37' id='Page_37'></span>“Not a soul.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“All at breakfast?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Come up here, will you?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“You bet I will, and mighty glad to see you,”
cried Ned, with vim and sincerity. “Now then—what?”</p>

<p class='c013'>Reaching the loft Ned challenged his friend,
curious and excited, as if he expected that Dave
would have a great story to tell.</p>

<p class='c013'>“You know what has happened,” said Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“That you ran away last night—yes. They
are talking about nothing else in the house yonder.
Say, tell me about it, for I know old Warner’s tale
is all bosh.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“The robbery end of it is, you can rely on that,”
replied Dave, and he recited briefly his adventures
and misadventures since they had last met.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Say,” cried Ned, when Dave had concluded
his story, “you just stick to your plan.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I intend to,” answered Dave sturdily.</p>

<p class='c013'>“If ever you go back, or they get you back,
life will just be unbearable to you. Old Warner
has branded you as a thief, and he’s mean enough
to keep the advantage. Tell me, how can I help
you?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Well, of course I’m pretty hungry,” said
Dave with a laugh.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='38' id='Page_38'></span>“I’ll fix that end of it,” promised Ned. “Just
wait till father and the hired men get off to work
in the field, and I’ll see that you get a first-class
breakfast.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Ned had to leave his friend just then, for some
one was calling him from the house. A few
minutes later Dave saw Mr. Towner and his hired
men come to the stable, hitch up two teams and
drive over beyond the trees lining the yard.</p>

<p class='c013'>In half-an-hour Ned came up through the inside
of the barn. He produced a package done up in
paper, and then took two bottles from his pockets.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Hot coffee, cold water, biscuits, some bacon,
gingerbread and two hard boiled eggs,” he reported.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why, this is just famous,” declared Dave
with zest.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Here’s a book, too. Say, it will just suit your
fancy,” added Ned, bringing the volume out from
under his coat. “It’s a great story. I got it down
at the library yesterday. I thought of you when I
picked it out.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“What is it called?” inquired Dave, his mouth
full of good food.</p>

<p class='c013'>“‘Modern Wonders of the Air’—up to date,
too. It tells all about balloons and early airships.
Too scientific for me, but I’ll bet it will be easy
as A. B. C. to you.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='39' id='Page_39'></span>“I don’t know about that,” said Dave, “but
it will be right welcome. I’m thinking I had better
keep hidden away for today, anyhow.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I should say you had,” assented Ned forcibly.
“Why—but I haven’t had a chance to tell you until
now.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“What about?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Two of our hired men saw the sheriff and old
Warner early this morning.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Are they still looking for me?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“The officers and your guardian were out till
daylight, scurrying around the country in every
direction. The sheriff’s men have driven to three
or four neighboring towns. They are watching
the railroad depot, and there isn’t a soul in town
who isn’t on the lookout for you.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I suppose that Mr. Warner has made me out
to be a regular boy villain,” suggested Dave, looking
serious.</p>

<p class='c013'>“He has, but your friends know better. And
soon as you are away safe and sure, I’ll just make
it my special business to face old Warner down
with the real facts. You’re not thinking of leaving
this hide-out in the daytime, Dave?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I dare not take the risk of being seen now.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Then make yourself comfortable till I come
home from school at noon,” said Ned.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave felt immensely better after his breakfast.
He had a true friend to aid him and keep him
posted, a safe hide-out, and an interesting book
<span class='pageno' title='40' id='Page_40'></span>to read. Dave stole down to the lower floor of
the barn after a spell and took a dip in the water
trough. Then he resumed his comfortable couch
on the sweet-smelling hay, and for two hours was
engrossed in reading.</p>

<p class='c013'>With what he knew, and what he desired, and
the way circumstances seemed to be leading him,
Dave felt that he was destined to soon know a
good deal more than he did about air sailing.</p>

<p class='c013'>He got to planning his course of flight when he
started out again. Then he fell to dreaming,
went to sleep, and had the delicious sensation of
being aboard of a real airship, himself a full-fledged
aviator.</p>
<div class='pbb'></div>
<hr class='pb c000' />
<div class='chapter'>
  <span class='pageno' title='41' id='Page_41'></span>
  <h2 id='chapV' class='c001'>CHAPTER V</h2>
</div>

<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c004'>
    <div>MAKING OFF</div>
  </div>
</div>

<p class='c012'>“Now is your chance, Dave.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, the coast looks clear.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“How’s your foot?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“That horse liniment from the stable has fixed
it up all right. I think I could run as good as
ever.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Which is mighty good—only don’t run into
any of the sheriff’s friends.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I’ll try not to,” laughed Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>He was taking a farewell of his trusty and helpful
friend, Ned. Dave had never known a truer
one. He had kept under cover in the hayloft all
that day. At noon time Ned had brought him
a lunch and news. There was not much to report.
Mr. Warner had told the officers that his
truant ward would make for some “crazy airship
place,” first thing. The sheriff, however,
refused to go outside the county, unless he was
paid for it. Old Warner was too stingy to advance
any money. So, it looked as though once
beyond the boundaries of the immediate district,
Dave would be pretty safe from pursuit.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='42' id='Page_42'></span>It was almost dusk now, and the two friends
stood just behind the barn, shaking hands goodbye.
Dave had eaten a good supper, and besides
that Ned had brought a little parcel containing
sandwiches, “to spell” him, as he put it, if he
got hungry on the all-night tramp he was starting
out on.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I hate to see you start out this way, without
a cent of money,” said Ned rather anxiously. “I
haven’t got any, and you won’t let me tell mother
anything about your being here. I know she
would help you, if she could.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Thank you, Ned,” replied Dave gratefully,
“your mother too. You see, though, I have
plenty of money,” and with a smile Dave slapped
his coat where the pocket book that had dropped
from the airship the evening previous reposed.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, but that isn’t yours, Dave.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I shall never forget that,” replied Dave
promptly. “There’s just this, though. If I got
in a tight place I wouldn’t hesitate to borrow a
dollar or two to help me on my way back to the
owner.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“You’re going to look for Mr. King right off,
are you, Dave?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, the birdman first and foremost, Ned.
I’m counting a good deal on interesting him in
giving me advice or help about getting into this
airship business.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='43' id='Page_43'></span>“Oh, you’ll land there,” predicted Ned confidently.
“You’re too much in earnest not to succeed.
Then you’re going to head for Fairfield?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, Ned.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“That’s where the aero meet is?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Exactly.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Aren’t you afraid from what he guesses and
knows, that old Warner will be looking for you,
or have some one looking for you right at that
place?” inquired Ned.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I shall guard out for that,” replied Dave.
“I’ve thought and planned it all out.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“How is that?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“To-morrow is the last day of the meet at
Fairfield, so of course after that Mr. King won’t
be there. I suppose he follows the circuit, as they
call it. So, you see, I won’t be long at Fairfield
under any circumstances, and I don’t think my
guardian will risk the money chasing me all
around the circle.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“That’s so. I guess you’ve figured it out about
right, Dave. Well, good luck, old fellow, and
be sure to write to me.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I will, Ned. Coast all clear?”</p>

<p class='c013'>Ned glanced around the corner of the barn
towards the house.</p>

<p class='c013'>“It’s all right, Dave—good-by.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Good-by.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='44' id='Page_44'></span>Ned stood watching his friend until he was
sure he had got well across a pasture lot and
safely out of view from the house or the road.
This stretch of the Towner place was very poor
land, finally running into a swamp. The moon
was just coming up, but on the lowlands the rising
mist was a protection to Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>He got to the end of the Bolger farm and then
lined the drainage ditch extending beyond it.
Dave leaped it finally at a narrow place, avoiding
a wide morass. A little beyond this the lad
came to a rutty road. It ran a mile or more to
the railroad, but as he knew was not much used
except to drive cattle to be shipped to the stock
pens at the freight yards.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave had his plans clearly worked out. His
present proposed destination was Fairfield. He
was in hopes of finding some freight train making
up in the yards. His idea was to get into some
open or empty car, and secure a free ride most
or all of the way to the city where the aero meet
was in progress.</p>

<p class='c013'>“There’s some one coming,” exclaimed Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>He had not counted upon meeting any one upon
that lonely road at that time of the night. With
the words he sprang behind a big tree. Then he
peered keenly ahead of him, intending to make
for the fence and hide himself in the thick underbrush
beyond it.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='45' id='Page_45'></span>The air was clearer and the moonlight brighter
on the higher land Dave had now gained. Perhaps
a quarter of a mile down the road he made
out a horse. Chasing it was a man. The animal
would browse and wait till its evident pursuer
got up close to it. Then with a snort, kicking up
its heels madly, it described a series of playful
circles, dodged the man, and leaped the fence at
the side of the road, a yard-high wire.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave watched the man chase it all over a patch
of scrubby brush. Finally the animal jumped the
fence back into the road. It kept sideways towards
its pursuer, nibbling at the grass. It
waited till the man was fairly upon it. Then up
went its heels, and along the road the animal sped,
the man shouting vainly after it.</p>

<p class='c013'>This time the horse took a longer spurt than
before. Dave made out the situation, and debated
with himself how he had better act. He
could not afford to come up against any person
who knew him. In the distance he could not
make out the identity of the man. About the
horse, however, Dave was surer. The animal
Dave had certainly never seen before. No such
horse was known about Brookville, and spontaneously
Dave uttered the exclamation:</p>

<p class='c013'>“What a beauty!”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave was a lover of animals, and this one carried
him to the bounds of admiration. High
breeding, grace, elegance and value showed in the
<span class='pageno' title='46' id='Page_46'></span>splendid animal. As it pranced up the road in
the white moonlight, Dave was reminded of pictures
he had seen of some magnificent charger.</p>

<p class='c013'>“He looks like a race horse,” said Dave. “He
has run away from that man, who is desperate to
catch him. I ought to help him do it. If I can,
I might tie the horse to a sapling and get out of
sight before the man comes up.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave kept behind the tree, his plan being to
dash out when the horse ran by, and attempt to
catch the halter rope which was trailing on the
ground. As the animal got within ten feet of the
tree, however, it let down its speed to a slow
walk, and, its pursuer fully a quarter of a mile
away, proceeded calmly to nibble at the grass.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave kept perfectly still. The animal, all unsuspicious
of his being so near, came closer and
closer to the tree in its browsing. A toss of its
head sent the trailing halter rope whipping the
ground not six inches from Dave’s foot.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Got you!” cried Dave in triumph, as he
grabbed the rope with one hand, and with the
other clung to a knob on the tree to resist the
quick jerk the horse gave. “So—o, nice fellow,
so—o.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave talked soothingly to the animal, that,
however, with flashing eyes and bristling mane,
backed foot by foot, resenting capture. Dave
got a hand-over-hand clutch on the rope and finally
<span class='pageno' title='47' id='Page_47'></span>a firm grip on the halter bridle itself. He was
surer of himself now, for he knew considerable
about horses. Still he counted on something of a
tussle. To his surprise, however, as he gently
stroked the mane of the high mettled steed, the
animal moved toward him and nosed down to his
side, sniffing inquiringly.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why,” said Dave with an amused laugh,
“the animal scents the lunch Ned gave me.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave did not know what was contained in the
package in his pocket, but he proceeded to break
through its paper covering. His fingers closed
on a sugar frosted cookie. As he brought it into
sight the horse gave an eager whinny and fairly
snatched it from his hand. Then it rubbed its
nose caressingly and coaxingly against his
shoulder.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Good friends, eh—as long as the cookies
last!” laughed Dave. “All right, here’s another.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave now had the animal under perfect control.
Of a sudden, however, the horse pricked
up his ears, glinted its eyes backwards, and began
to paw the ground. Dave saw the apparent owner
of the horse approaching.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I’ll stand my ground—the man is a stranger,”
thought Dave rapidly.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='48' id='Page_48'></span>The man was puffing, panting and perspiring.
He looked exhausted after his vigorous chase, but
glad as he saw that Dave had the horse firm and
tight.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Capital!” he cried. “I wouldn’t have lost
that horse for a fortune, and it means nearly that
to get him safe back where he came from. Good
for you, young fellow,” he added. “I’ll make it
a lucky catch for you.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“A good beginning in my runaway career,” said
Dave to himself.</p>
<div class='pbb'></div>
<hr class='pb c000' />
<div class='chapter'>
  <span class='pageno' title='49' id='Page_49'></span>
  <h2 id='chapVI' class='c001'>CHAPTER VI</h2>
</div>

<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c004'>
    <div>CADMUS</div>
  </div>
</div>

<p class='c012'>“Look out!” shouted Dave suddenly.</p>

<p class='c013'>In his eagerness to recover his horse, the man
who had just come up to the scene of the capture
ran directly up to the animal to promptly retreat
in some dismay.</p>

<p class='c013'>Without trying to break away from Dave the
horse began to move rapidly in a half circle, using
tail, rear hoofs and body as a menace against the
approach of its master. Dave gave the animal
another cookie, which quieted it down. However,
the horse kept a constant eye on the man,
who did not venture to approach any nearer.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Well, well, well,” laughed the man in a comical
way, “this is a new stunt for Cadmus. Why,
I thought we were friends, old fellow,” he added,
addressing the horse.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Did he run away from you?” inquired Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“First chance he got—and the only one, so
far.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“How is that?” asked Dave curiously.</p>

<p class='c013'>“He was raised a pet.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='50' id='Page_50'></span>“Anybody can see that.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Never heard of Cadmus?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Not until you called him that,” replied Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Well, Cadmus is a famous racer.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“He looks it.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Oh, he’s made his name. Isn’t that so,
beauty?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Take care,” again warned Dave. “Cadmus
is still a little nervous.”</p>

<p class='c013'>In fact the horse had resented any nearer approach
of its master. Dave almost fancied that
the intelligent animal pressed up close to himself,
as if asking protection.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Thinks he’s going to get the whip for breaking
the rules,” said the man. “I’ll discipline him
on feed, but I never strike one of my horses. I
say, youngster, you’ve done me an immense favor.
Will you carry it a little farther?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I’ll try,” replied Dave willingly.</p>

<p class='c013'>“If you was going my way”—and the speaker
nudged his shoulder down the road in the direction
from which he had just come.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Oh, any way suits me,” responded Dave
quickly.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Then I wish you would lead the horse till
we get to the car. Cadmus seems to have taken
quite a fancy to you.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“He belongs in a car?” asked Dave, a little
vaguely.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='51' id='Page_51'></span>“Why, yes,” replied the man, with a stare at
Dave as if he supposed he knew that. “We’re
taking Cadmus to Brompton. They switched us
in the yards, and some one left the car door open,
and Cadmus made his break.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Oh, I understand now,” said Dave quickly,
and then an eager thought came into his mind, as
he wondered if this lucky incident might lead to
his finding a way out of Brookville unnoticed.</p>

<p class='c013'>The last cookie in Dave’s hands kept Cadmus
quiet and friendly until they reached the railroad
yards. The man piloted the way among a network
of tracks, and finally along a string of
freight cars standing beside a planked roadway.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Here we are,” he reported.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave noticed that the man had halted beside
a light colored car bearing the words: “Palace
Horse Car.” A small colored boy dressed in a
horse jockey’s jacket, and a big husky fellow who
looked like the hostler, were tilting a slanting platform
up to the big door at one end of the car.</p>

<p class='c013'>It took some persuasion to get Cadmus to go up
this cleated platform, but it was finally accomplished.
Dave looked around the car with some
admiration.</p>

<p class='c013'>“It deserves its name, ‘Palace’, doesn’t it,”
he asked of the owner of the horse, who seemed
greatly relieved to find the animal housed once
more safe and sound.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='52' id='Page_52'></span>“You ought to see the accommodations we
have in a trip across the continent,” returned the
horseman. “This is nothing to it.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“This is pretty fine, to my way of thinking,”
declared Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>Fully one half of the car was given up to Cadmus.
The box stall at one end was padded and
cushioned to guard against jarring. The feed
box was of porcelain, and the light blanket they
put on Cadmus was as fine as a silk bedquilt.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Come in, youngster,” invited the horseman,
when he had seen that Cadmus was attended to
properly.</p>

<p class='c013'>He led Dave into a partitioned-off apartment,
comfortable as a boudoir in the Pullman sleeper.
There was a couch, a table and plush covered easy
chairs. Into one of the chairs Dave sank.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I calculated I’d have had some trouble in getting
that horse if you hadn’t come along,” asserted
the man.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Oh, when Cadmus got through playing he
would have been docile enough,” suggested Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“And made me miss railroad connections and
a big race to-morrow,” added the horseman.
“See, here,” and he glanced into a pocket book
he had taken out, and then drew a long slim book
and a fountain pen from another pocket, “what’s
your name?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why,” hesitated Dave, “what do you want
to know for?”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='53' id='Page_53'></span>“I want to give you a check.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“What for?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“To fix you out for your trouble.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I wouldn’t know where to cash it,” declared
Dave. “Besides, if you want to fix me out, as
you call it, there’s another way that would please
me better.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Just name it, youngster.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“This car goes to Brompton you told me, I
think?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, we start in about an hour.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Well, sir,” observed Dave, “if you will give
me a free ride that far, I will consider that you
have paid me a hundred times over for the little
I’ve done for you.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Little you’ve done for me?” cried the horseman.
“I suppose you don’t consider that Cadmus
is just about worth his weight in gold to me.
Now, see here,” and the man took the pocket
book out again and drew forth two bills.
“There’s all the currency I’ve got with me—two
fives. You’ll take them.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“No, sir,” began Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“You’ll take them, I said,” repeated the man in
a forceful way. “And you’ll give me your name
and address, and promise that if ever you need a
friend you’ll send word to Amos Baker. Here’s
my card.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Money and card were thrust on Dave in spite
of himself.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='54' id='Page_54'></span>“My name is Dave Dashaway,” he said, “but
I have no address, and don’t know how soon I
may have.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Oh, is that so?” observed the horseman, eyeing
his companion curiously.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, sir. The truth is I’m leaving home in a
hurry—but that cannot interest you.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, it will,” echoed the horseman. “Tell
us all about it, lad. Maybe I can give you some
advice that will help you out.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave told his story, and his auditor listened to
it with great attention.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I like your pluck, and your plan to get to Fairfield
is all right,” said the horseman. “We’ll be
at Brompton in three hours. You’ve now got
money enough to carry you to Fairfield and a good
deal farther. Your going to Brompton is carrying
you directly out of your route, you can ride
as far as that, though, get off there and take the
first train for Fairfield, see?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I shall never forget all your kindness, Mr.
Baker,” said Dave gratefully.</p>

<p class='c013'>Just as a locomotive hitched onto the train of
which the stock car was a part, Mr. Baker called
in the colored boy. He gave him some orders,
and in a few minutes quite a repast was spread
out on the table from several hampers in the car.</p>

<p class='c013'>The train reached Brompton after midnight.
Mr. Baker shook hands heartily with Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='55' id='Page_55'></span>“I reckon nobody will be hanging around looking
for you at this time of night,” he observed.
“Good luck to you, youngster. If you have any
further trouble with that pesky guardian of yours,
drop me a line and I’ll appear on the scene.
Write occasionally, anyhow. I’ll be glad to hear
how you are getting along. If some mean people
don’t interfere, it will be in a good way, for you’re
the right kind of a boy to make a success, Dave
Dashaway, and Amos Baker says it.”</p>

<p class='c013'>The freight train had stopped at a crossing, and
as it moved on Dave had to walk down the tracks
nearly one-half a mile to reach the railroad depot.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave trudged on hopefully to meet his first experience
in a big city.</p>
<div class='pbb'></div>
<hr class='pb c000' />
<div class='chapter'>
  <span class='pageno' title='56' id='Page_56'></span>
  <h2 id='chapVII' class='c001'>CHAPTER VII</h2>
</div>

<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c004'>
    <div>ROBBED</div>
  </div>
</div>

<p class='c012'>“Well that’s the hardest part of it over and
done with,” declared Dave, as he walked into the
railroad depot at Brompton.</p>

<p class='c013'>The youth felt pretty much encouraged. His
foot had mended, he had earned ten dollars, and
had won a good friend. He had got safely away
from Brookville by a route his pursuers would
never suspect him of taking.</p>

<p class='c013'>“More than all, best of all,” spoke Dave with
longing and satisfaction, “I’m well started for
Fairfield and the airships.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave found the depot almost deserted. A few
travelers were nodding on the benches in the
passengers room, waiting for a late local train going
north. The ticket office was closed, but the
depot policeman was on duty. Dave approached
this official.</p>

<p class='c013'>“What about a train for Fairfield?” he spoke.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Last one gone two hours ago.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“When is the next train?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“8:15 A. M.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='57' id='Page_57'></span>Dave was disappointed. That was nearly a
third of a day ahead. It would be a long wait,
but he decided to make the best of it. He selected
a snug seat in a dark corner and began to
nod before he was aware of it.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Here, rout out,” sounded a gruff voice in his
ear, and he was shaken rudely.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Oh—yes, I was asleep,” mumbled Dave, recognizing
the depot policeman.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Going to close up. No more trains either
way to-night,” he said.</p>

<p class='c013'>“But I’m waiting for the Fairfield train.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Can’t do it here. Against the rules. Come
back in the morning.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Where can I go?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why, to a hotel, of course. There’s lots of
them within a stone’s throw.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave got to his feet and out of the depot. He
had unexpectedly received a great deal more
money than it would take to get him to Fairfield.
He treasured his little hoard, though. The idea
of saving the price of a night’s lodging had
pleased him.</p>

<p class='c013'>“What do I care for a bed,” he told himself
as he came out of the depot into the starry night.
“I can sleep anywhere,” and Dave made for the
deep entrance to a store and sat down upon its
step. Almost instantly, however, a policeman in
uniform stepped out of the deep shadow of a
neighboring doorway, on the lookout for stragglers.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='58' id='Page_58'></span>“You’ll have to move on, sonny,” he said.</p>

<p class='c013'>“All right,” assented Dave with a comical
smile. “I wouldn’t hurt those iron steps,
though.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave walked on till he came to a big building.
It bore the sign: “Empire Hotel.” Glancing in
at the lobby with its elegant appointments Dave
shrugged his shoulders and walked on.</p>

<p class='c013'>“That’s too rich for my blood, even if I do
feel like a millionaire,” he smiled. “Something
more modest for me.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Finally Dave reached a respectable appearing
hotel that looked second class and cheap. He entered
the lobby and went up to the clerk’s desk.</p>

<p class='c013'>“How much do you charge for a night’s lodging?”
he asked.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Fifty cents.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I guess I’ll stay, then.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Got any baggage?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“No, sir.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Any references?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I should say not!” Dave told himself, and
he walked away when the clerk had explained that
they never took in transients without baggage or
an introduction from a responsible party.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='59' id='Page_59'></span>Dave sauntered about leisurely now. He made
up his mind to walk about all night. At the end
of an hour, however, the unfamiliar stone pavements
began to remind him of his weak ankle.
He noticed an illuminated sign running out from
a shabby looking building. It read: “Rooms—twenty-five
and fifty cents.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“That sounds all right,” reflected Dave, and he
ascended a stairway lighted up by a smoking oil
lamp at its top.</p>

<p class='c013'>A drowsy, sleepy-eyed young man was lounging
in a broken chair behind a desk. At its side were
a lot of pigeon holes, and some holding keys.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I want to stay here all night,” stated Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“No one’s hindering you, is there?” observed
the young man. “What price?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Twenty-five cents.”</p>

<p class='c013'>The young man ran his eye over a portion of
the pigeon holes and announced:</p>

<p class='c013'>“Single rooms at that price all gone.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“And the best room is fifty cents?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“You’ve got it.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“That’s too much.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Better go to Tom’s Lodging House,” sneered
the fellow. “You’ll find a fine ten-cent crowd
there, if that’s your style. Tell you, if you don’t
mind sharing a room with a boy like yourself I
can accommodate you.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Two beds?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I’ll take it.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='60' id='Page_60'></span>“Pay it.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave drew out his money. The young man
grumbled at having to change a five dollar
but that was soon got through with. Then he
handed Dave a key with an iron strip to it, that
prevented lodgers from putting it in their pockets
and forgetting to return it.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Room 58, fourth floor,” advised the young
man, and lounged back into his chair again. “Be
sure to put out your light when you go to bed.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave climbed up two more flights of rickety
stairs. The air of the place was close. One
floor was divided up into as many as a hundred
little bunks, and the snoring was disturbing.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I wish I hadn’t come here,” thought Dave,
but he kept on to the fourth floor, made out 58
on a door, and unlocked it and entered a room
with one window.</p>

<p class='c013'>The light in the hall showed a lamp on a table.
There were two narrow beds in the room, and
they did not look particularly uncomfortable.
When he lighted the lamp, Dave glanced over at
the cot that was occupied.</p>

<p class='c013'>Near it was a chair, and over this hung some
shabby garments. Dave had a plain view of the
sleeping inmate of the bed, and he did not like the
face at all. It had a red scar on one cheek, the
hair was straggling and untidy, and, taken altogether,
the boy made Dave think of a crowd of
<span class='pageno' title='61' id='Page_61'></span>young roughs who had run up against him and
tried to provoke him into a quarrel in his early
midnight wanderings.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave opened the window of the room to let in
fresh air, then he undressed. He drew a chair
up against his bed and folded his clothes across
it. Then he blew out the light.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Feels good to stretch out human like once
more, sure enough,” said Dave contentedly.</p>

<p class='c013'>Then he groped about on the chair until he
found his coat and drew out the pocket book belonging
to Robert King, Aviator.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I want to make sure of that,” he mused.
“My own money, too. I’ll quietly put it all in
the pocket book and slip it under my pillow.
Then no one can play any tricks on me without
waking me up.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave worked in the dark. He fished out the
bills from his pocket. Then he got hold of the
silver change he had received down stairs. It
was composed mainly of dimes and nickles. Just
as he was striving noiselessly to transfer the handful
to the pocket book, bang! rattle! tap! went
half a dozen rolling nickles out of his hand.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Hello, what’s that?” challenged a sharp suspicious
voice, and Dave knew that the noise made
by the falling coins had awakened the sleeper in
the other bed.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='62' id='Page_62'></span>Dave was bound to answer. He slipped the
pocket book under his pillow, and held tightly the
coins remaining in his hand to prevent them from
jingling together.</p>

<p class='c013'>“It’s me,” he replied.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Who’s me?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Roomer—just come in.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“You’re a boy, aren’t you?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Like yourself.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“What’s your name?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I did not register,” replied Dave evasively.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Humph! don’t want to be sociable, eh? Well,
shut up, then.”</p>

<p class='c013'>With a grunt the occupant of the other cot
seemed to flounce over and resume his slumbers.
Dave did not like the sound of his voice any better
than he had the look of his face. He hoped
the fellow had not heard the coins drop on the
floor. Dave reached out cautiously, groped
about, managed to locate several nickels, placed
these noiselessly in the pocket book, and was glad
that things had quieted down.</p>

<p class='c013'>Somehow he felt disturbed and uneasy. He
knew that the place was second class, and probably
housed a good many rough characters. He made
up his mind that he would keep awake until daylight,
then go back to the railroad depot. He
heard two and then three o’clock strike from
some neighboring bell tower. By four o’clock he
was fast asleep.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='63' id='Page_63'></span>In a dreamy sort of a daze, his next waking
action was lying with his eyes closed and counting
seven strokes of a bell.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Oh, dear, this won’t do at all,” cried Dave,
leaping from the bed to the floor. “Why, I’ll
miss the train to Fairfield if I don’t move sharp.
Hello—hello!”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave came to a standstill, posed like a statue.
He stared at the chair by the side of the bed. His
clothes were gone!</p>

<p class='c013'>He rubbed his eyes and looked again. In their
stead, lying scattered carelessly on the floor, were
the clothes belonging to his boy room mate.</p>

<p class='c013'>In a second a dreadful flash of dismay and fear
came to Dave’s mind. He sprang at the bed
he had just left and lifted the pillow quickly.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Gone! All gone!” he gasped turning cold
all over. “I’ve been robbed!”</p>
<div class='pbb'></div>
<hr class='pb c000' />
<div class='chapter'>
  <span class='pageno' title='64' id='Page_64'></span>
  <h2 id='chapVIII' class='c001'>CHAPTER VIII</h2>
</div>

<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c004'>
    <div>A STARTLING SURPRISE</div>
  </div>
</div>

<p class='c012'>Dave ran to the door, his heart sinking, and
alive with the keenest excitement. Arrived
there, he checked himself. He realized that he
could not rush out in the shape he was in.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I can’t do it!” he cried resentfully, as his eyes
fell upon the clothes left in place of his own.
“Oh, this is terrible!”</p>

<p class='c013'>A little faint and a good deal dismayed, the
youth sat down on the edge of his bed to get a
better grasp of the situation. He saw now that
he was probably too late to overtake the thief.
His eyes fell upon two nickels lying on the floor
near the cot. These had been a sort of a guide
to the robber, who must have heard them jangle
to the floor when Dave accidentally dropped them.</p>

<p class='c013'>“That fellow must be a real bad one,” mused
Dave. “He probably pretended to be asleep all
the time, and was watching me! Anyhow, he has
managed to get hold of everything I had. The
worst of it is the watch and the money and the
medal belonging to Mr. King are gone too. The
<span class='pageno' title='65' id='Page_65'></span>thief may have been gone from here for hours,
for all I know. I’m in a bad fix.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave felt very rueful. He had not come up
against much of the wickedness of the world before
this. He blamed himself for not guarding
his possessions more carefully, for coming to the
lodging house at all.</p>

<p class='c013'>“There’s nothing for it but to put on these
clothes,” he decided at last, with a sigh. “I don’t
suppose it will do any good to tell the lodging
house keeper about the thief, and in a big, strange
city there is little chance of my running him
down.”</p>

<p class='c013'>The clothes of the boy who had robbed Dave
very nearly fitted him. Dave’s own attire had
been threadbare in spots, but it had been clean.
Somehow, Dave could not repress a feeling of repugnance
as he put on the clothes. The shoes
pinched, being short and narrow, but he managed
to get them on.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave went down stairs and into the office on the
second floor of the building. A lot of loungers
were sitting around on benches and a new clerk
was behind the desk.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Is the young man here who was on duty last
night?” inquired Dave, returning the room key.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I just relieved him,” was the reply. “He’s
gone home to sleep.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='66' id='Page_66'></span>“He gave me room 58,” went on Dave.
“There was a boy in one of the beds. These
clothes are his.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Hey?” ejaculated the man, with a stare.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, sir. He’s taken mine. I shouldn’t
think you would allow such characters in here.”</p>

<p class='c013'>The man shrugged his shoulders indifferently.
He pointed to a sign behind the desk. It informed
roomers that the house was not responsible
for thefts.</p>

<p class='c013'>“If you had anything valuable in your clothes,”
advised the man, “you should have left it in our
safe.”</p>

<p class='c013'>The speaker pointed to a box with a padlock
behind him. Dave decided that he could place
little reliance in either the man or his strong box.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I did lose something valuable,” he cried,
smarting under his lost.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Did, eh?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, sir—fifty dollars in money, beside other
valuables.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“That so?” smiled the man incredulously.
“Know the thief?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I do. Don’t I tell you that he slept in the
same room with me?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Know him again?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I am sure I would.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Can you describe him?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, he had a scar on one cheek.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Better put the police on his track, then.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='67' id='Page_67'></span>“Thank you, I’ll do just that,” replied Dave
with energy, starting briskly for the door under
the impetus of the suggestion.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave hurried from the building and down the
street. At a crossing he found an officer in uniform.
This man directed him to the nearest station.
Dave framed in his mind the most accurate
description he could give of the thief.</p>

<p class='c013'>“It hadn’t ought to be very hard to trace down
a fellow with a scarred face like that,” meditated
Dave. “Hello! I never thought of it before.”</p>

<p class='c013'>With the words “Police Station” staring him
in the face from the front of a grim looking brick
building, Dave came to a dead halt with a shock.</p>

<p class='c013'>It had just occurred to him that he might invite
considerable risk by visiting the police. They
would want to know how he came by the pocket
book of Robert King. He would have to tell
them the circumstances and his name. They
might have received some word already from
Brookville to look out for him. They might get
to inquiring into his story and detain him as a runaway.</p>

<p class='c013'>“No, it won’t do at all,” declared the boy emphatically.</p>

<p class='c013'>He got away from the place as fast as he could,
all stirred up as he found time to realize that
he was still near enough to Brookville to be seen
and recognized by some one who might inform
on him. Dave went back to the railroad depot
and consulted some maps and time tables.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='68' id='Page_68'></span>He found that Fairfield was not on the direct
line, and that the indirect route covered about
sixty miles. If he could go back past Brookville
in the other direction it would be ten miles less.
Across country on foot, as nearly as he could
make it out, on air line route it was not over thirty-five
miles.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why, I could walk it in a day,” thought
Dave—“and I’ll do it!”</p>

<p class='c013'>He had just ten cents in his pocket—the two
nickels the thief had disdained to pick up. He
had made up his mind that it would be a waste of
time to try and hunt up the boy who had robbed
him. In the first place, Dave was unfamiliar with
the city. The thief had probably got away from
it with his booty as fast as he could.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave walked across the city. Near its limits
he went into a bakery and invested the ten cents
in crackers and buns. The shoes he wore began
to hurt his feet. After a brief lunch he struck
off on a smooth country road.</p>

<p class='c013'>“It’s my duty to reach Fairfield and find this
Mr. King,” he decided. “I suppose he values
that medal very highly. He is in better shape
than I am to start a search for the thief or the
plunder.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='69' id='Page_69'></span>A little after noon Dave sat down by a little
stream and took off his shoes. They had hurt
him terribly the last mile he had traveled. He
found his feet blistered and swollen, bathed them
in the cool water, and when he resumed his tramp
walked barefooted, carrying the shoes strung over
his shoulder.</p>

<p class='c013'>Shortly afterwards Dave reached a little village.
As he passed a cobbler’s shop he went in and asked
the man in charge if he would exchange his shoes
for anything he could wear. The shoemaker
went over a lot of stock uncalled for, but there
was nothing among them that would fit Dave.
Finally he made a bargain to take twenty-five
cents for his shoes, and resumed his journey.</p>

<p class='c013'>It was about four o’clock in the afternoon when
Dave met with a new adventure. It had more influence
on his future career than he dreamed of
at the time.</p>

<p class='c013'>He had followed a path leading along a ravine.
Its edges were heavily wooded, and at the bottom
a pretty babbling brook coursed its way. Dave
was glad to get once more where things were
green. He lay down on the grass, fell asleep,
and awoke from his nap with the echoes of a series
of sharp reports ringing in his ears.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Hello! some one shooting,” exclaimed Dave.
“Oh, the mischief!”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='70' id='Page_70'></span>He had traced the sounds as coming from the
valley, and had crept to the edge of the ravine
and leaned far over in an effort to peer past the
thick foliage. The crumbling edge gave way under
the weight of his body, and Dave took a
tumble.</p>

<p class='c013'>He grabbed out at some bushes, but they gave
way, only briefly slowing down his progress.</p>

<p class='c013'>Then as he whirled along he was conscious that
he was rolling directly towards a towering
bronzed figure, standing like a statue on a ledge
of rock.</p>

<p class='c013'>The form was that of an Indian, remarkable
and startling in this unexpected place. He stood
posed magnificently, an uplifted tomahawk in his
hand, and not ten feet distant on another ledge
of rock was a man dressed in hunter’s costume.
This latter person had a rifle in his hand, and was
sighting along its barrel, and on the other side
of the ravine, seated under a tree conversing with
a young lady, was another man.</p>

<p class='c013'>In the flashing sight he had of all this, it looked
to Dave as though the hunter was going to shoot
the man with the lady, unless the Indian hurled
his tomahawk in time to prevent him.</p>

<p class='c013'>Straight up against the Indian Dave rolled.
Quickly the latter put out his foot. He brought
it squarely down on Dave’s chest and held him
motionless.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Lie still,” he spoke rapidly, “or you’ll spoil
the picture!”</p>
<div class='pbb'></div>
<hr class='pb c000' />
<div class='chapter'>
  <span class='pageno' title='71' id='Page_71'></span>
  <h2 id='chapIX' class='c001'>CHAPTER IX</h2>
</div>

<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c004'>
    <div>MAKING HIS WAY</div>
  </div>
</div>

<p class='c012'>Dave felt as if he was in some unreal, topsy-turvy
dream. Everything was like a Wild West
picture, and he closed his eyes wondering if his
fall and roll down the side of the ravine had not
sent his wits astray.</p>

<p class='c013'>The fling of the tomahawk he saw was real, so
was the sharp report of the gun. Above all, the
heavy foot pressing down on his body and holding
him motionless was tangible.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave opened his eyes as the foot was suddenly
removed, to view an amazing spectacle. The
“Indian” had taken out a pipe and was leisurely
filling it. The “hunter” had picked up the
“tomahawk”, which had struck a piece of rock
and split open, showing that it was made of papier
mache. Across the ravine the young man had
risen to his feet and was yawning and stretching,
and the young lady walked away putting up her
parasol.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Mind yourself, now,” spoke the owner of the
foot that held Dave a prisoner, and he reached
down, grasped the boy by the arm and set him on
his feet.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='72' id='Page_72'></span>“I say!” gasped Dave vaguely—“what is
this?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Moving picture,” replied the man briefly.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, it moved quick enough,” said Dave
slowly. “Oh, I see now,” he added, as, a step advanced,
he came in view of several persons near
two automobiles down the valley, and in their
midst a camera.</p>

<p class='c013'>It was all plain to Dave in a moment. The
persons he saw were acting out a motion picture.
He had heard of these groups before. In the
present instance they had selected a pretty natural
spot as a framework for their acting. Dave had
stumbled upon them at a moment when a particularly
thrilling drama was in progress.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Come on with us,” spoke the man who had
played the Indian, looking Dave over curiously.
“We’re going to have lunch, and if you’ll carry
my traps down to the camp you shall have a
snack.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Thank you,” replied Dave, greatly interested
in the group, and nothing loth to accepting the invitation.</p>

<p class='c013'>The man had motioned to a spot under a near
tree where a satchel lay. It was open and he
closed it, but not before Dave saw that it was filled
with his acting wardrobe.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='73' id='Page_73'></span>Dave followed after the two men. They soon
reached the first automobile. Here a man, apparently
the chauffeur and general utility man, was
placing food on a piece of canvas spread on the
ground as a tablecloth.</p>

<p class='c013'>Nobody paid any attention to Dave, who set
down the satchel as directed. The chauffeur
had a large, well-filled hamper beside a tree stump
which served for a table. Dave went up to him.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Can’t I help you, mister?” he asked pleasantly.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why, yes, you can,” was the prompt response.
“It’s pretty rushing around here when the people
get hungry.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave under direction set seven wooden plates
and as many paper napkins on the impromptu
table. He sliced up two long loaves of bread,
carried the cold meat and fruit to the table, and
went to a spring nearby to fill a big tin pail with
cool, sparkling water.</p>

<p class='c013'>A young man wearing glasses, and smart looking
and brisk, seemed to be the manager. He
beckoned Dave and the chauffeur to join the family
party. Dave enjoyed the liberal meal immensely.
He was interested and entertained with the continuous
chatter of the group about him.</p>

<p class='c013'>“What’s the programme, Mr. Alden?” asked
the big fellow who had acted the Indian.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='74' id='Page_74'></span>The man addressed took a roll of manuscript
out of his pocket. He separated the sheets and
passed one around to each of the party.</p>

<p class='c013'>“There’s your parts,” he said. “Scenario:
‘The Ruined Mill’.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I don’t see any mill,” observed the man who
had played the hunter, looking up and down the
ravine.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Two miles farther on, according to my directions,”
explained the leader of the party, consulting
his note book.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave was so interested that he planned that he
would linger with the group till he had seen how
they made a moving picture film. When one of
the crowd whom they called Davis moved away
from the table and went to the intricate outfit
near the wagon, Dave unobtrusively followed
him. He was engrossed in watching the process
of “loading up” the film reels, when the manager
came up.</p>

<p class='c013'>“See here, Davis,” he said in his jerky, energetic
way, “we’ll have to get busy if we expect to
cover the programme in daylight.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I told you that myself,” was the retort.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I’ve waited two hours for Banks now.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“He’s got delayed somehow.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“The only bother is the rescue of the heroine
in the mill race.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Cut that act out, then.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='75' id='Page_75'></span>“Why, it’s the thriller of the scene. No, I
can’t do that. None of the fellows can swim,
though, and I don’t see what we are going to do.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave fancied he understood the situation. In
an eager way he pressed forward.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Mr. Alden,” he said, “can’t I be of some help
to you?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Hey, what?” exclaimed the man, looking
Dave over. “A boy? But then—look here,
can you swim?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Like a fish.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Then you’ll do. Why, this is big luck. Hi,
Dollinger, start up the machines. It’s wasting
time waiting for Banks any longer.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave got into the smaller automobile after the
traps lying about had been packed into it. The
others boarded the larger and more elegant machine.
They went a roundabout way to strike a
traversed road, and in about an hour came to the
stream again.</p>

<p class='c013'>It was where an old abandoned mill stood.
Mr. Alden gave Dave one of the acts of the
“Scenario”, as he called it. He explained to
Dave what he was to do.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Put on this suit,” directed the manager, selecting
some clothing from a big box. “Better wear
a wig and whiskers, so you’ll look more like a man.
These moccasins will fit your feet. Now, you
understand, when the villain pushes the heroine
into the mill stream, you are to act your part.
Just follow the cues in your typewritten screed
there.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='76' id='Page_76'></span>“All right,” reported Dave promptly, “I think
I know what you wish me to do.”</p>

<p class='c013'>It was like watching a play, the various scenes
that were enacted inside and outside of the old
mill, all forming part of a very interesting story.
As it neared its end, Dave took a fishing rod, as
directed, and seated himself on the bank of the
stream a few yards from the mill.</p>

<p class='c013'>At the sound of a whistle he glanced at the mill,
arose, dropped his fishing pole, tore off his coat,
and took a plunge into the water, throwing his
arms up in the air and floating down the swiftly
rolling stream. The heroine came floating into
view.</p>

<p class='c013'>She splashed around and seemed about to sink
as Dave reached her. He caught her, swam for
the shore, and both went off to change their dripping
attire.</p>

<p class='c013'>“You did that very well,” said Mr. Alden in
a kindly tone, coming up to Dave some minutes
later. “You can keep those moccasins if you
like,” he went on. “And here’s your pay for
helping us.”</p>

<p class='c013'>The speaker handed Dave a dollar bill. There
had been considerable of a fascination to the little
business part Dave had played. He would not
have been sorry if Mr. Alden had offered him
<span class='pageno' title='77' id='Page_77'></span>continued employment. The latter forgot him in
a moment, however, bustling about and directing
the others, who piled into the big automobile.</p>

<p class='c013'>“You had better wait here about an hour, Dollinger,”
he spoke to the man who attended to the
rough work of the party.</p>

<p class='c013'>“All right, sir.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Banks may come along. If he does, fetch him
on to Fairfield.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“What’s that!” said Dave with sharp interest
to Dollinger. “Is the party going to Fairfield?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, that’s next on the route, I understand,”
answered Dollinger.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Say,” broke in Dave eagerly, “I don’t suppose
you could crowd me into your machine and
take me that far?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why not?” quizzed Dollinger, good naturedly.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I’ll help you double work, if you could,” persisted
Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“That’s where you’re headed for, is it?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, sir.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Well, you’re welcome to a seat in the machine.
I like your company,” observed Dollinger cheeringly.</p>

<p class='c013'>Both of them bustled about getting the traps
of the party stowed into the most convenient
compass. After that Dollinger waited an additional
hour for the man Mr. Alden expected.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='78' id='Page_78'></span>“I reckon we’ve filled orders,” said Dollinger
finally. “It looks like rain, and if we expect to
reach Fairfield before dark we had better make
a move.”</p>

<p class='c013'>A storm overtook them ten miles on their way.
They were, however, then on a good road, and
found shelter in a wayside shed. There was still
further delay when the auto broke down in a deep
rut. Dollinger had to send Dave on to the near
village to bring a repair man to the scene.</p>

<p class='c013'>It was about dusk when they started again.
While the man was making repairs Dollinger and
Dave ate their supper.</p>

<p class='c013'>“There are the lights of Fairfield, I guess,”
spoke Dollinger, as they drove down a well ballasted
road. “Mr. Alden and his people have
gone to a hotel, and I will have to call on him for
directions as to where I am to put up. I generally
rough it this fine weather.”</p>

<p class='c013'>The rain had ceased, but a fierce wind was blowing,
the sky was overcast, and altogether it was a
disagreeable evening. Dollinger located the
hotel where Mr. Alden was stopping. He went
in and shortly came out with a card in his hand.</p>

<p class='c013'>“All right,” he reported, “I know where to go
to.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave’s plans were half formed in his mind.
He was delighted to realize that he had reached
Fairfield so readily—that, too, he congratulated
<span class='pageno' title='79' id='Page_79'></span>himself, with comfortable footwear and over a
dollar in his pocket. Of course his first thought
was of Mr. King, the airman. Dave reflected,
though, that a dark night in a strange town was
not a condition favoring a search for a stranger.
He was pretty well tired out, and he kept with
Dollinger, hoping something might turn up that
would give him a free bed for the night.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dollinger ran the automobile quite out of the
city. Finally he lined the fence of some kind of
an enclosure. Dave noticed that it was of considerable
extent, but in the dark, he could not
make out exactly what it was.</p>

<p class='c013'>They at length reached a wide gateway. Outside
of it was a small building resembling a
switchman’s shanty. There was a light inside of
it and an old man moving about.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dollinger stopped the automobile, leaped out
and knocked at the door of the building. He
showed the card to the man inside who read it,
seemed to give some directions to Dollinger, and
then came out and unlocked the gate.</p>

<p class='c013'>He locked it shut again when the automobile
had entered the enclosure. Dollinger drove
across an open space, reversed, and backed into
one of a series of low sheds with the front open
and exposed to wind and weather.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Now then,” he said to Dave, “we’re housed
for the night. Want to stay with me?”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='80' id='Page_80'></span>“It will save me the price of a lodging somewhere
else,” explained Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“You’ve earned a sure one here,” declared
Dollinger. “Nothing like the pure open air for
health. I’ll rig you up a shakedown that will
please you, I’ll guarantee.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dollinger was as good as his word. He
spread blankets over the roomy seats of the automobile,
and Dave voted he had never welcomed
a more pleasant resting place.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave slept like a top. It was broad daylight
when he awoke. For a moment he forgot where
he was. Just as he arose Dave gave a jump, a
gasp and a cry.</p>

<p class='c013'>Gazing out through the open front of the shed
Dave saw a dazzling object cavorting swiftly
above the ground.</p>

<p class='c013'>“An airship!” shouted Dave Dashaway in a
transport of delight.</p>
<div class='pbb'></div>
<hr class='pb c000' />
<div class='chapter'>
  <span class='pageno' title='81' id='Page_81'></span>
  <h2 id='chapX' class='c001'>CHAPTER X</h2>
</div>

<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c004'>
    <div>AT THE HANGARS</div>
  </div>
</div>

<p class='c012'>“Hello there, what’s struck you?” cried Dollinger.</p>

<p class='c013'>The chauffeur and general utility man of the
moving picture combination dropped a big spoon
with which he was stirring something in a pan
outside of the shed. Near by was a tripod with
an oil lamp burning under it. Dave understood
that Dollinger was preparing breakfast.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave did not reply. He could not, at just that
moment. It seemed to him as though at the touch
of a magician’s wand his whole life had been
changed—as if the most ardent desires of his
heart had been granted.</p>

<p class='c013'>The day previous, if some genii had promised
to gratify one special wish, Dave would have
asked to be put among just such airships and in
the company of just such airmen. Now all that
he had desired was before him.</p>

<p class='c013'>Circling majestically aloft was a big biplane.
Way over at the end of the enclosure was an elevated
apparatus, from which an airship of another
<span class='pageno' title='82' id='Page_82'></span>type was evidently making a trial ascent. The
machine rose only a few yards, described a half
circle, and had to be hoisted up again and again.</p>

<p class='c013'>Between it and the sheds were several small
buildings, and at least two of these held some kind
of air craft. The one in flight finally enchained
the entire attention of Dave. He watched it till
it had made a score of dizzying manoeuvres, and
returned to the ground at the far end of the enclosure
as graceful as a bird and as easily as if
landing on springs.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Sets you dreaming, does it?” demanded Dollinger
with a grin, slapping Dave on the shoulder
to wake him up.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Oh, it’s just glorious!” cried Dave, with
sparkling eyes. “Mr. Dollinger, what place is
this?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why, the aero park, of course.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“You don’t mean where they have had the big
meet?” inquired Dave breathlessly.</p>

<p class='c013'>“That’s it.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Oh, my—and I’ve got in, too!” cried Dave
in a dazzled sort of way.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why, yes,” replied Dollinger, “though that
don’t count for much just now. You see, nothing’s
going on.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Nothing going on!” cried Dave, gazing at
the airship aloft and then across the broad field
beyond him.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='83' id='Page_83'></span>“I mean as a show. The meet closed yesterday.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“But all those airships?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Most of them will move over to Dayton,
where they have another meet next week.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I hope Mr. King has not got away yet,” Dave
said to himself.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Come on, get a hot cup of coffee and some
warmed-up pork and beans into you, and you can
go back to your wonder staring, if you like,” said
Dollinger.</p>

<p class='c013'>He had arranged a fine breakfast from his
stores. Dave felt a sense of gratitude and satisfaction
as he realized his novel and pleasant situation.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Everything is turning out just as I hoped it
would,” he reflected. “If only I hadn’t lost that
pocket book, and if Mr. Warner doesn’t get track
of me.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave insisted on helping Dollinger clean up and
pack away the things used for breakfast.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Are you going to stay here for awhile, Mr.
Dollinger?” he asked.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Oh, yes, all day, I understand,” replied Dollinger.
“I don’t know the exact orders until Mr.
Alden comes along. He told me, though, yesterday
that we wouldn’t make any further move till
to-morrow. Why do you ask, lad?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I wanted to look about a bit.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='84' id='Page_84'></span>“Go straight ahead,” directed Dollinger heartily.
“Say,” he added, with a droll grin, “thinking
of sticking to us?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Who wouldn’t!” cried Dave—“the way you
treat folks.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Well, you’re mighty welcome company,” declared
Dollinger in a friendly way. “Willing
and useful, too. I shouldn’t wonder if Mr. Alden
could find a place for you with the party.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave did not commit himself by making a direct
reply. His heart was set on airships, and he
ardently hoped there would be some chance for
him in that field.</p>

<p class='c013'>“If I fail, I can fall back on the moving picture
crowd,” he mused. “I really like the business.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave left the automobile with the zest and eagerness
of a boy starting out to see a big show for
the first time. He headed for the far corner of
the grounds where animated scenes were in progress.
Just then, however, a broad low-wheeled
wagon to which two horses were attached came
along. It was seemingly conveying a large-sized
monoplane out of the grounds for repairs. Dave
noticed that the machine was somewhat battered
up.</p>

<p class='c013'>He had never been so near to an airship before,
and he followed the wagon in a sort of fascinated
way. Once he reached out his hand and
<span class='pageno' title='85' id='Page_85'></span>touched one wing of the machine. It positively
made his finger tips thrill. When it reached the
big gates of the enclosure, the same old man who
had admitted the automobile the evening previous
opened them for wagon and airship to pass out.</p>

<p class='c013'>There were several people bustling around the
little building near the gate which was the office
of the grounds. One brisk individual seemed to
be the manager. Dave, standing around full of
everything that was going on, noticed that this
man was arranging affairs for departing airmen.
A lank poorly-dressed boy stopped the man as he
was called to the office.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Say, Mister, can you tell me where I’ll find
this man?”</p>

<p class='c013'>The boy held out a crumpled soiled card, at
which the manager glanced quickly and then
brushed by, saying:</p>

<p class='c013'>“Mr. King? You’ll find him down at the
hangars.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“What’s them, now?” stared the boy. “Do
you know?” he inquired turning quickly upon
Dave, who stood at his elbow.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I declare I don’t,” replied Dave with a laugh.
“I’ve seen the word in print, and I know it refers
to some part of the grounds here, but I don’t exactly
understand it.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Well, I’ve got to find out. I’ve got to see this
Mr. King.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='86' id='Page_86'></span>“Is he the airship man?” asked Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“That’s him. Say, where are the hangars?”
persisted the lad, addressing the old gate keeper.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why, down there, of course,” was the reply,
and the speaker pointed to the buildings at the
other end of the field, where the airships were
housed.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I’ll go with you down that way,” said Dave,
“if you don’t mind.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Of course not,” replied his companion.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave wondered what the awkward countrified
youth was doing on the aviation field, and what
business he could have with Mr. King. He decided
that this was his chance to meet the man
whom he had traveled so far to see.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave’s companion did not explain his mission.
He acted and walked like a fagged out person who
had not had much sleep or a great deal to eat
for some time. He was dusty and travel worn,
and made Dave think of a raw country bumpkin
starting out in life to find some work other than
that of the farm. He had an innocent, credulous
face, but showed a certain doughty spirit, as if he
was very much in earnest as to what he was about
and intended to stick to it.</p>

<p class='c013'>There was a good deal stirring around the
hangars. Everything was airships and airmen.
Over beyond the hangars some of the machines
were in action. Dave’s companion kept on asking
about Mr. King, and at length his search
was rewarded.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='87' id='Page_87'></span>He came finally to a portable tarred canvas
house. One end of it held a monoplane, which
both boys regarded with interest through the half
open door. Near an open door at the other end
of the building an old man was pottering around
with a pail and a brush. Dave’s companion ran
up to him.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Say, Mister,” he bolted out in his usual unceremonious
way, “I want to see Mr. King.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Oh, you do, eh?” retorted the crabbed old
fellow. “Well, you sit down on that bench yonder
and wait your turn, will you?”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave and his companion did as the man directed.
The boy looked sharply at Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Say,” he observed, “you going to stay here
and wait, too?”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave nodded an assent. The boy looked
anxious.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Got business with Mr. King?” he inquired.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why, yes,” replied Dave. “He lost something,
and I want to tell him about it.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Oh, that’s it,” spoke the boy with a great sigh
of relief. “I was afraid you was after a job.
If you was, I got here first.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Oh, you can see Mr. King first,” said Dave.
“Some one is with him now.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='88' id='Page_88'></span>The walls of the frail canvas structure were
thin. Sounds readily penetrated to the outside
air. Two persons seemed to be in the room beyond
the open door. One of them was speaking
now. These words fell upon the hearing of the
two listeners.</p>

<p class='c013'>“You’d better give Jerry another chance, Mr.
King.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Another chance?” shouted a deep angry
voice. “If your boy ever comes around here
again I’ll horsewhip him within an inch of his
life, Mr. Dawson, and I want you to make yourself
scarce, too!”</p>
<div class='pbb'></div>
<hr class='pb c000' />
<div class='chapter'>
  <span class='pageno' title='89' id='Page_89'></span>
  <h2 id='chapXI' class='c001'>CHAPTER XI</h2>
</div>

<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c004'>
    <div>THE AIR KING</div>
  </div>
</div>

<p class='c012'>“You’ll be awful sorry for this,” Dave and
his companion heard next.</p>

<p class='c013'>“That’s enough, Dawson.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“My boy, Jerry, knows this business, and you
won’t find a lot who do.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I tell you that will do,” was the forcible response,
“and it ends it. Your son gave away a
lot of information to a competitor. There are
things missing, too.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Don’t you call Jerry a thief!”</p>

<p class='c013'>“If he isn’t that, at least he neglected to watch
my property and my interests as he was paid to
do.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“You’ll suffer for sending my son away with a
bad character!”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Don’t let me see him again, that’s all.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Huh!”</p>

<p class='c013'>The last speaker, a big fierce-looking man
came out through the doorway with the word.
From the way he was dressed Dave decided that
he was employed somewhere about the grounds.
His face was red and his fists clenched. He
gritted his teeth viciously as he went on his way.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='90' id='Page_90'></span>“It’s my turn now,” spoke up Dave’s companion
eagerly.</p>

<p class='c013'>He made a quick bolt through the doorway.
Dave was left alone. His eyes followed the man
whom he had heard called Dawson. The latter
had gone about a hundred feet down the hangar
row, when a boy about the age and size of Dave
came suddenly into view from behind a shed,
where evidently he had been waiting.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave decided that this must be the son of Dawson
concerning whom there had been such an animated
discussion. He could surmise from their
looks and gestures that the father was reporting
the result of the interview to his son. The latter
scowled forcibly. Then he shook his fist in the
direction of the hangar.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why,” said Dave thoughtfully, “there must
be a vacancy here. Maybe I have arrived just in
the nick of time.”</p>

<p class='c013'>It was easy to figure out that the boy, Jerry
Dawson, had been discharged from the employ of
Mr. King. His father had interceded for him,
but it had been of no avail. Suddenly Dave’s
interest was distracted from the incident of the
moment. He heard his late companion speaking
beyond the doorway:—</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, sir, a man gave me that card and said he
had heard that you was in need of a boy.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='91' id='Page_91'></span>“H’m, yes,” Dave heard Mr. King reply.
“That is true, but—what’s your name.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Hiram Dobbs.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Where do you come from, Hiram?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I did live twenty miles west of here, but I got
tired of farming and my brother said I could try
something else if I wanted to. I worked for a
fellow in the merry-go-round business in the city
till night before last. He sloped without paying
me.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“And you want to break into the aero business,
eh?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Well, I heard there might be a chance with
you, so I came here. You see, I’ve had some experience.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“In the airship line?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Well, no—balloons.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“How? Where?” asked Mr. King.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Down at Talcott, the town near our farm.
There was a circus and a balloon ascension. I
got caught in a rope and was dragged thirty feet
up into the air.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Indeed?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes. Here, there’s a slip from the Talcott
Herald, telling all about ‘the daring feat of our
young townsman.’ If I hadn’t caught in a tree I’d
have gone further.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='92' id='Page_92'></span>There was a sound of rustling paper. Then
Dave heard Mr. King laugh. It was a kindly,
good natured laugh, though. Dave voted he
would like the man in whom he was so interested
yet whom he had never seen.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Well, well,” spoke Mr. King, “you were quite
a hero. Being pulled up into the clouds on a balloon
anchor is not the kind of experience that
counts for much in the airship line, though, my
lad. If I had something just suited to you, I
would give you a chance on your honest face.
Frankly, though, I do not think you would be of
much use to me until you have had some practical
experience.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Sorry,” replied Hiram Dobbs in a subdued
tone, “for I like you, mister. Now, where can I
get that experience?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“By working around the hangars and doing
odd jobs till you know a monoplane from a biplane,
and a pylon from an aileron. See here, you
go down to the office of the grounds—know where
it is?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, sir, near the big gateway, isn’t it?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“That’s right. You ask for Mr. Linden, and
tell him I want him to give you a job. Tell him
I will be down to see him about it in an hour or
so.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Will he put me at something?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I think he will. He has the concessions at all
the meets for food supplies and the like. That
will bring you in touch with every angle of the
aeroplane business, and you look like a boy who
would learn.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='93' id='Page_93'></span>“Just try me and see!” chuckled Hiram.
“Thank you, sir, I’ll get directly about this business.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Wait a minute—got any money?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“No, sir, I haven’t.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“There’s a dollar.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“But I’m not begging, sir,” dissented Hiram.
“If I get work——”</p>

<p class='c013'>“You can hand it back pay day.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Hiram came out with dancing eyes. He
jumped up in the air, cracking his heels together.
Then, out of sheer jubilation, he slapped Dave
on the shoulder.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I’ve got a job!” he cried.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I’m very glad you have,” responded Dave
heartily.</p>

<p class='c013'>Hiram did not wait for any further talk. He
started on a mad dash for the other end of the
grounds. A man was coming around the corner
of the little building, and Hiram very nearly ran
into him. Dave had got up from the bench to
venture upon seeing Mr. King, when the newcomer
preceded him through the doorway. Dave
considered that he was entitled to the next interview
with the airman. The latest arrival, however,
was so forcible and precipitate that Dave
patiently resigned his chance.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='94' id='Page_94'></span>The newcomer was very much excited. He was
an old man, smart looking, but very fat and fussy.
Dave heard him break out in a stirring tone with
the words:</p>

<p class='c013'>“It’s come, Mr. King.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Oh, you mean—ah, yes,” replied the airman,
“your parachute suit?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, a perfect full-sized one. See here, you
know what I want. You said you were very much
interested in my patent.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“That’s the truth, Mr. Dixon.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“And that you would give it a trial.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I will, later. See here, my friend, I am engaged
all day to-day.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why, the meet is over?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, but I have a contract for a private exhibition.
There’s good money in it, and I can’t disappoint
my people.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“How’s the next day?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I’ve got to go to the Dayton grounds to get
ready for the opening day at that meet. Tell
you, Mr. Dixon, bring your device up to Dayton,
and I’ll see what I can do for you.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I am anxious to make a practical test right
away.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“There’s lots of the fellows here who will help
you out.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='95' id='Page_95'></span>“Yes, and make a blunder, and queer my whole
business. No, sir! The man who won the endurance
prize is the man for me, and your recommendation
would be worth more to me than that
of any ten men in the aviation line.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why don’t you make the trial yourself, Mr.
Dixon?” inquired the airman.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Oh, yes!” laughed the old inventor, “I’d be
a fine performer with my clumsy bungling in an
airship and my two hundred pounds, wouldn’t I!”</p>

<p class='c013'>“That’s so. You had better pick out a lightweight
for the first trial.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Where will I find one?” spoke Mr. Dixon in
a musing tone. “You see, I don’t expect a long
drop on the first test. You know Boisan never
ran his biplane without wearing his padded helmet.
All that can do, though, is to break the shock of
a fall. My parachute isn’t on the pad order at
all, nor to prevent a fall.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“What does it do, then?” asked Mr. King.</p>

<p class='c013'>“It reduces the rate of the drop and lands the
wearer safe and sound. The suit is a loose flowing
garment fitted to a framework carried on the
back. The lower ends are secured to the ankles.
When the aviator throws out his arms, the garment
spreads out like an umbrella. I am satisfied
if you once see my parachute dress work, you will
give a good word for it that will make it a success.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='96' id='Page_96'></span>“Well, Mr. Dixon,” replied the airman, “if
you are anxious to have a trial on the field here,
I’ll find some one to give it a show, under my direction.
I hardly know where I will get my man, but
I can probably pick him up somewhere about the
field. It’s a risky experiment, though.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave Dashaway arose from the bench. Afterwards
he wondered at his audacity, but just at
that moment he could not resist the quick impulse
that seized him.</p>

<p class='c013'>He stepped through the doorway and turning
past a half partition, faced the two men whose
overheard conversation had so interested him.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Mr. King,” he said taking off his cap, and his
heart beating rapidly at his own temerity, “I
would like to try that experiment.”</p>
<div class='pbb'></div>
<hr class='pb c000' />
<div class='chapter'>
  <span class='pageno' title='97' id='Page_97'></span>
  <h2 id='chapXII' class='c001'>CHAPTER XII</h2>
</div>

<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c004'>
    <div>A NEW FRIEND</div>
  </div>
</div>

<p class='c012'>“Why, who are you?” exclaimed Mr. King.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave stood somewhat awed at being in the
presence of the famous aeronaut for the first time.
He was embarrassed at his own boldness. Yet
he managed to blurt out:</p>

<p class='c013'>“I have been trying to get to you for two
days.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Mr. King stared at Dave in a wondering way.
He looked him over from head to foot. Dave
was not disappointed in the impression made upon
him by the aviator. Mr. King was a man with a
keen, clean-cut face and well-knit frame. There
was a look of decision and business in his clear
eye. As he smiled, there was also a genial, indulgent
expression to his lips that won Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Oh, I think I understand,” spoke Mr. King
slowly. “I suppose you are another applicant
for a job. Heard I’d fired my assistant and all
that. I didn’t think that news had traveled so
fast and far.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='98' id='Page_98'></span>“Why, no, sir,” said Dave quickly. “I knew
nothing about what you speak of until a few minutes
ago.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Then——”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I have been seeking you to find out if you lost
some property out of an airship near Brookville,
about sixty miles from here, three nights ago.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Eh, what’s that?” cried the airman, starting
up into an attitude of attention and surprise.</p>

<p class='c013'>“There was a sweater,” continued Dave, “and
a pocket book with fifty dollars in it, and a watch
and a medal.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“What about it—what about it?” demanded
Mr. King quite excitedly. “The medal, I mean.
The rest of the stuff doesn’t matter.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Did you lose what I said, sir?” asked Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, yes!”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Near Brookville?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I sailed over Brookville the night you tell
about,” replied the airman. “I missed the
sweater that I had rolled my valuables in just as
I got back here. Of course I didn’t know exactly
where I lost it.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Well,” said Dave, “I found it——”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Good!”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I started to bring it to you, for I saw your
name on the medal, and had heard all about you.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Then you’ve got the medal, have you?” asked
Mr. King eagerly and expectantly, starting up
from his chair.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='99' id='Page_99'></span>“I am sorry to say I haven’t, Mr. King,” replied
Dave regretfully. “I started for here to
return the property to you and lost it.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Lost it?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“That is, I was robbed.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“By whom?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“A boy in a lodging house where I stayed
night before last.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“But you know the thief?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Only by description,” replied Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why didn’t you inform the police?”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave paled slightly, and then flushed up. The
airman was eyeing him keenly. The old inventor
looked suspicious, too.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Mr. King,” at length spoke Dave, “I am a
runaway from home.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Hum!” commented Mr. Dixon dryly.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I had to run away from home,” continued
Dave desperately. “It’s a long story. There’s
a heap to tell, but I’m afraid it wouldn’t interest
you, sir. When I found myself robbed, I thought
the best thing to do was to come and tell you all I
could. I’m awfully sorry I was so careless.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“See here,” interrupted Mr. King, in a generous
way, placing a reassuring hand on Dave’s
shoulder, “don’t say that again. You’ve done
all you could, and I thank you for it. Mr.
Dixon,” he went on, glancing at his watch, “I am
going to have a mighty busy morning, and I want
you to excuse me for a while.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='100' id='Page_100'></span>“All right,” nodded the inventor, though
rather glumly, arising to his feet.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I’ll be around the field all day, and be
glad to see you and talk to you about trying your
invention any time after noon.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Oh, that’s good,” bowed Mr. Dixon, brightening
up. Then he fixed his eye on Dave, and
said: “I believe this young man made some remark
about helping us out, when he first appeared
on the scene.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Say, you’re a regular old ogre, Dixon!”
railed the airman. “You look as hungry as one,
wanting to make this lad your first victim. I
shan’t recommend anybody, nor furnish anybody
to try your parachute dress, until I am perfectly
satisfied he won’t come to any harm.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“When you do, Mr. King,” broke in Dave,
“I’d like a chance to show my confidence in you
by trying the umbrella suit.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“All right. I’m to see you after dinner,” said
the old inventor leaving the room.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Now then, my lad,” spoke the aviator briskly,
“sit down. I want to talk to you.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, sir,” replied Dave gladly.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I want you to tell me your whole story. I
have an idea it is going to interest me. First,
your name?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“It’s Dave Dashaway.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='101' id='Page_101'></span>“Dashaway?” repeated Mr. King, with a
slight start and a look in his eyes as though he was
searching his memory.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, sir, my father was a professional balloonist.
Maybe you have heard of him.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Heard of him!” cried the aviator, with new
interest. “I should say I have. And read of
him. Why, he was a pioneer in advanced aeronautics.
And you are his son?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, sir.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Tell me all about it.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave looked into the kindly, sympathetic eyes
of his new acquaintance feeling sure that he had
found a true friend. He told the story of his
life simply. As he tried to make it brief, his auditor
more than once checked him as if every detail
interested him.</p>

<p class='c013'>“You are a brave, deserving young fellow,
Dashaway,” said the airman heartily. “I have
you to thank for putting me on the track of that
lost medal, which I value beyond price.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Do you think there is any chance of your getting
it back?” inquired Dave anxiously.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I am sure of it. I want you to come with me
down to the field office. In the meantime think
up the closest description possible of the fellow
who stole it. Here,” added the airman pointing
to a little writing table. “Just sit down there
and jot it down as clear and brief as you can.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='102' id='Page_102'></span>Dave did as directed, while Mr. King explained:</p>

<p class='c013'>“The thief won’t value the medal. He will
probably sell that and the watch for what they are
worth as gold. I intend to telegraph to the police
at Brompton to keep an eye out for the thief and
to offer a reward for the medal.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Mr. King bustled about the room, and put on
another coat and took some papers from a
satchel, and acted as if about to start out on business.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why, I was just going to the hotel to see
you,” he said suddenly, as a newcomer appeared
on the scene. “Ready for business?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Oh, yes,” was the prompt reply, and the latest
visitor stepped into the room where Dave sat.
“Why, hello—friend of yours, Mr. King?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“What, do you know young Dashaway?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Very pleasantly, too,” answered Mr. Alden,
the manager of the moving picture outfit, for
Dave recognized him at once as that person.
“He helped us out of a tight box yesterday.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“You didn’t tell me about that, Dashaway,”
remarked the aviator.</p>

<p class='c013'>“There was so much else to tell,” explained
Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Well,” proceeded the motion picture man,
“I’ve been thinking of you, my lad. How would
you like to work for me right along?”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='103' id='Page_103'></span>“What’s that?” broke in Mr. King, in his
quick, jerky way. “No, you can’t have him.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Eh?” questioned Alden, with a stare, “why
not?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Because I’m thinking of hiring him myself,”
replied the aviator.</p>
<div class='pbb'></div>
<hr class='pb c000' />
<div class='chapter'>
  <span class='pageno' title='104' id='Page_104'></span>
  <h2 id='chapXIII' class='c001'>CHAPTER XIII</h2>
</div>

<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c004'>
    <div>A START IN BUSINESS</div>
  </div>
</div>

<p class='c012'>Dave Dashaway trembled with excitement
and pleasure. He was proud and glad the way
things had turned out. The aviator noticed the
happy look on his face, and nodded encouragingly.</p>

<p class='c013'>“All right,” spoke Mr. Alden. “I see you’ve
got first show. Trouble is, our man we depended
on, a fellow named Banks, failed us yesterday, and
I guess he won’t show up in time for the airship
pictures. He is the only one in our crowd who
will do what we call the desperate stunts.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“What do you call those?” inquired the airman.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Oh, Banks is a regular acrobat. He’s the
man who falls down stairs and gets knocked
around in the funny pictures, and jumps from the
seaside cliff or is blown up by dynamite in the
tragic ones.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I see.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='105' id='Page_105'></span>“Now, like yesterday. The hero had to rescue
the drowning heroine in the roaring mill stream.
Our young friend here happened along in the nick
of time, and did the stunt nobly. None of the
rest of the crowd could even swim—this young
fellow can, like a fish.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“And now you expect him to fly?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Hardly that,” was the laughing rejoinder,
“but in your exhibition we want to bring in the
usual little incidents to make an interesting story,
you know, and Getaway here——”</p>

<p class='c013'>“You mean Dashaway.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, he could work in famously.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Well, we will see about it,” said Mr. King.
“How would you want to begin the pictures?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“The outfit will be here inside of an hour.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I will be on hand,” promised the aviator.
“Come with me, Dashaway. I want to get that
telegram to the city.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave felt as if he was treading on air. It was
in fact the supreme moment of his young life. He
did not feel that he had done any grand things,
but telling the truth and doing his level best had
put him in line with very promising prospects.</p>

<p class='c013'>Mr. King hurried along with his brisk, bustling
way, absorbed in the business on his mind. When
they reached the office of the grounds, he beckoned
Dave to follow him into the little compartment
that answered for a telegraph office.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='106' id='Page_106'></span>“Give me the description you wrote out,” he
said. “Good for you, Dashaway,” he added
with satisfaction, as he ran his eye over the words
Dave had written. “You cover it well. With
that tell-tale scar on his face, I think the young
rascal who robbed you will be easy to find. All
I care for, though, is the medal. He will probably
sell that and the watch to some pawnbroker,
and a liberal reward will lead the police to find
them for me.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“My losing those things is going to cost you
a lot of money, Mr. King,” said Dave regretfully.</p>

<p class='c013'>“And suppose that sweater of mine had been
found by some dishonest person, or trampled
down out of sight in the mud? No, no, Dashaway,
I count it a big thing, you’re giving me my
first hope of recovering the medal.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Mr. King wrote out a lengthy telegram, ordering
it sent, left some instructions with the operator,
and went outside again.</p>

<p class='c013'>Here he was immediately surrounded by half
a dozen persons. Among them were newspaper
reporters seeking information as to the aviator’s
plans for the next coming aero meet at Dayton.
Professional airmen wanted to discuss the programme
ahead. Some agents with airship supplies
took up some of his time. It was half an
hour before Mr. King got rid of his company.
Then he came up to Dave, his watch in his hand.</p>

<p class='c013'>“See here, Dashaway,” he spoke, “I want to
ask you a question.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='107' id='Page_107'></span>“Yes, sir,” replied Dave attentively.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Do you want to go to work for me?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Do I!—” faltered Dave. “It’s been my
dream ever since I heard of you.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Good enough. You’re engaged. Go down
to the hangars and wait till I come. Hold on,”
halting Dave, as he started to obey orders. “I
want to say a word. I call it all opportunity,
the queer way you have run into my affairs. I
like your make up. The last assistant I had
played me mean. He’ll lose by it. I’m willing
to do a good deal for a fellow who will be loyal
to his business. I put big faith in you. Don’t
disappoint me.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Say,” began Dave in a great gulp, and he
could not bring the words out, he was so worked
up.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I know what you would say,” spoke the airman
quickly. “Never feel any different about it
than you do at this moment, and there will be no
regrets.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“There’s only one thing troubles me, Mr.
King,” observed Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“What’s that?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“My guardian. I ran away from home.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Good for you. From what you tell me, that
miserly old rascal, Warner, won’t waste any time
or money hunting you up. If he does, I think
I know how to handle him.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='108' id='Page_108'></span>Dave started down the field so filled with joy
that he could have shouted out aloud. Up to this
time his mind had been so occupied with affairs
outside of airships, that he had found no opportunity
to view those he had seen in detail. Now
he seemed to be a part of the great unique activity
surrounding him on every side.</p>

<p class='c013'>“It’s wonderful, it’s grand!” he mused.
“Oh, to think of my luck! And the friends I’ve
met with!”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave’s eyes filled with grateful tears. He felt
as if suddenly he had found his right place in life
and a real home. The thought that he was to see,
survey and perhaps handle a real airship thrilled
him with gladness.</p>

<p class='c013'>“It will be like getting into some palace of
wonders,” he reflected, “and the grand chance
to learn from the star man of them all, Mr.
King.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave hurried by many a group surrounding
aeroplane models that would have halted him
usually. He was anxious to get to the hangars.
He had not yet examined the crack monoplane
belonging to his employer. He knew its name,
the <i>Aegis</i>, and had got a mere glimpse at its outlines.
Now he was free to look it all over.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Hold on there!”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='109' id='Page_109'></span>To make a short cut to the hangars, Dave had
passed between a part of the grandstand and a
building where refreshments had been sold during
full attendance at the meet. There were not
many people around just there, and this short cut
took Dave into a still more lonely space.</p>

<p class='c013'>Some one had come up behind him, butted into
him forcibly, and sent him up against a wooden
platform.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I want to speak to you,” sounded a voice
strange to Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“You’ve got a nice way of introducing yourself,”
began Dave, turning around with some asperity.
“Hello, I know you.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Do? Then there’s no need of any explanations,”
jeered his assailant.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave recognized the latter instantly. It was
Jerry Dawson, the boy whose father had visited
Mr. King less than two hours previously. Dave
had seen this youth only once before. It had been
at a distance, too. He knew that sullen, scowling
face, however, at once.</p>

<p class='c013'>The boy was taller and older than Dave. He
was stockily built, and strong. He stood with his
fists raised, blocking Dave in against the platform.</p>

<p class='c013'>“What do you want?” demanded the latter.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I want to ask you a question.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Ask away.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Have you gone to work for King?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“What if I have?”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='110' id='Page_110'></span>“Then you’ve landed in the wrong box, I can
tell you that. I’ll stand no fellow cutting in on
my rights.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“What do you call your rights?” inquired
Dave calmly.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I’ve worked for King ever since the season
began. I’ve slaved for him and helped him get
the endurance prize.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Indeed?” remarked Dave trying to suppress
a smile.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Now he’s in a muff. He knows he can’t get
along without me, but he’s stubborn, and so am I.
You leave him alone, and don’t cut in on my job,
or I’ll make it warm for you.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“What do you expect I’m going to do?” inquired
Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Has King hired you?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“And you’re going to start in with him?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I am.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“After what I tell you?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, that won’t make any difference,” said
Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Then I’m going to whip you.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“All right.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“You won’t take a warning.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Not from you.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Look out!”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='111' id='Page_111'></span>Dave determined to defend himself. He was
no match for the big overgrown bully, but he was
cornered, and it was not in his nature to show the
white feather on any occasion.</p>

<p class='c013'>“You’re bigger than I,” said Dave, backing to
a firmer footing, “but I won’t let you or anybody
else browbeat me without cause.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“And I’m bigger than either of you!” roared
an intruding voice. “You young bully, make
yourself scarce, or I’ll pick you up by the nape of
your neck and drop you into that mud puddle over
yonder!”</p>
<div class='pbb'></div>
<hr class='pb c000' />
<div class='chapter'>
  <span class='pageno' title='112' id='Page_112'></span>
  <h2 id='chapXIV' class='c001'>CHAPTER XIV</h2>
</div>

<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c004'>
    <div>HIS FIRST AIRSHIP RIDE</div>
  </div>
</div>

<p class='c012'>Dave recognized the newcomer on the scene as
Hiram Dobbs, his companion during his first visit
to the hangars. The latter had appeared like
magic through a near open doorway of the temporary
restaurant building.</p>

<p class='c013'>Hiram had said he was bigger than Jerry Dawson.
He now proved that he was also stronger.
He grasped the surprised bully by the arm,
gave him a swing, and sent him slamming up
against the side of the nearest building.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Get out of here,” he ordered, “or I’ll run
you out.”</p>

<p class='c013'>The discomfited bully scowled frightfully at
Dave’s champion. He made a move to seize a
brick and hurl it. Then he changed his mind as
Hiram started on a run for him.</p>

<p class='c013'>“There’s a bully for you,” announced the country
boy, stooping to pick up a little box he had
placed on the ground when he ran to Dave’s rescue.
“Good thing I just happened around.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, he acted pretty vicious,” replied Dave.
“He’s mad because he’s lost his place, and wants
to scare me off from taking it.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='113' id='Page_113'></span>“Don’t you let him do it.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I won’t.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“So you got a job with Mr. King?” questioned
Hiram, his face lengthening a trifle.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes,” answered Dave. “You see——”</p>

<p class='c013'>“You’re smarter than me? yes. A blind owl
could see that. And I’m right glad of it,” added
Hiram heartily. “Some day I’ll hit it just as
lucky. Oh, say,” and Hiram grinned drolly.
“You tell Mr. King that I know what a biplane is
now.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Do you, indeed?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, and the difference between a pylon and
aileron. And a lot of other things. And I’m
going to learn a heap more,” declared Hiram
confidently.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Then you’ve begun your education already,
have you?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“The man Mr. King sent me to hired me right
on the spot. There isn’t much to do here, but
I’m to go with his crew to Dayton, and so all
around the circuit. Six dollars a week, and keep
and commission.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“What doing?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Helping in the restaurant and peddling novelties.
I can’t be idle, so I’m trying to start an
honest penny rolling among the stragglers around
the grounds,” and Hiram tapped the box under
his arm.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='114' id='Page_114'></span>“What have you got there?” inquired Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Souvenirs,” explained Hiram, opening the
cover of the box and displaying a lot of pins and
buttons bearing or stamped with miniature airships.</p>

<p class='c013'>“You’ll do,” declared Dave heartily, “and
thank you for sending that Dawson fellow about
his business.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“All right, and you look out for him. He’ll
do you some mischief if he can.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave went on his way with a word of good
cheer to Hiram. He felt that they were bound
soon to meet again, and prized the manly qualities
of this new acquaintance. As he neared the
hangars two automobiles flashed past him.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Hello!” cried Dave, “in that first one is
my friend Dollinger, with the camera man and his
traps. Mr. Alden’s group are in the second machine.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave reached Mr. King’s quarters to find the
second automobile halted there. The other one,
guided by Dollinger, he noticed had driven over
to a clear stretch at the far end of the grounds.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Motion pictures, of course,” thought Dave,
and just then the man who had acted the Indian
in the motion scene of the day previous recognized
him.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='115' id='Page_115'></span>“Hello,” he hailed. “You’re on time. Going
to help us out to-day?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I don’t know. I hope so,” replied Dave, and
he returned the friendly nods of the lady and
others of the party.</p>

<p class='c013'>“We’re waiting for Mr. Alden,” explained the
man who had first spoken to Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I think he expects to be here soon, with Mr.
King,” said Dave. Then he moved around to
the part of the building where the airship was
housed as he saw a man in overalls pottering
about the open doors.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Saw you with Mr. King,” said the man as
Dave came up. “Going to work for him?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I think so,” answered Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Well, you look a likely one. Seen much of
airships?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Almost nothing, until this morning,” replied
Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Well, I’ll show you the last word in aerial
construction when I introduce you to the <i>Aegis</i>,”
said the man. “Here, I’ll give you a look at the
beauty.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave moved as gingerly about the machine as
if it were made of porcelain. His companion
pointed out the main features of the splendid
piece of mechanism.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='116' id='Page_116'></span>Dave heaved a great sigh as he came out from
the exhibition. He was fairly fascinated with
what he had seen and what had been explained to
him.</p>

<p class='c013'>Mr. King and the motion picture manager came
up a minute later. They talked together. Then
Mr. King got into the automobile with the others.</p>

<p class='c013'>“All oiled up and ready, Mason?” he called
out to the caretaker of the hangars.</p>

<p class='c013'>“All ready, Mr. King.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Then run her down to where you see that automobile.
Dashaway will give you some help.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“It seems just like a dream, all this,” ruminated
Dave, as he assisted Mason in propelling the
monoplane down the course.</p>

<p class='c013'>The sky was clear, with a moderate breeze, the
day cool and bright. For the time, Dave forgot
all the past, and a rare golden future seemed
spreading out before him.</p>

<p class='c013'>Soon the <i>Aegis</i> was in place where the aviator
wanted it. Dave listened with interest to the talk
of the motion picture man. He soon understood
that they were to take a series of pictures bringing
in something of a story.</p>

<p class='c013'>“We will work in all our interiors at our city
studio,” explained the manager. “What we
want to do here first, is to picture out—here it is,”
and the speaker read over his scenario—“‘scene
in prison yard. Convict at the rock pile.’”</p>

<p class='c013'>“That’s me,” announced the man who had
acted the hunter’s part the day before.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='117' id='Page_117'></span>“Get in trim, then,” ordered the manager.</p>

<p class='c013'>The actor went behind one of the automobiles
where there was a large wardrobe trunk. In a
minute or two he reappeared arrayed as the typical
convict.</p>

<p class='c013'>The camera man had produced from his properties
various needed articles. When the convict
was posed, he sat with a hammer in his hand
breaking stones on a rock heap.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Miss Mowbeay,” spoke the manager.
“‘Veiled lady in black.’”</p>

<p class='c013'>“All ready.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“‘Visit of the Convict’s Wife.’”</p>

<p class='c013'>Wher—rr—r! went the camera, and the actress
advanced to where the convict was at work.
A prison guard kept near her. At the end of
the interview the wife secretly dropped a folded
note on the stone heap.</p>

<p class='c013'>“We are ready for you, Mr. King,” next spoke
the motion picture man. “Flight of the Airship.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“What do you want me to do?” asked Mr.
King, going up to his machine.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Oh, about five minutes thrilling stunts. Then
I want you to swoop down near the convict. You
drop him a rope——”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Hold on, I don’t,” cried the aviator.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Can’t work out our plot unless you do,” declared
the motion picture man.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='118' id='Page_118'></span>“Say,” inquired Mr. King with a smile, “was
you ever up in a monoplane?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Well—no.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Try it once, with eye, hands and mind set on
dodging a single quirk that may send you diving
like an arrow, and you will understand that I
can’t run my machine and drop a rope at the same
time.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Well, the best part of the scenario is where
the convict is told by the note left by his wife
to look out for the rescue. As I said, you was
to swoop near him, drop the rope.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“What does the convict do then?” questioned
the aviator, with an amused smile.</p>

<p class='c013'>“He grabs the rope, up he goes, and bang!
bang! go the rifles of the guards.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“See here, Mr. Alden,” objected the airman,
“do you know how long that convict would hold
on to that rope?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“He don’t hold on six feet. Just clutches
it for an instant. Only enough to take the act
of rising. Then we shut off the camera. We
finish up his dashing against chimneys, flag poles
and the clouds with a dummy in our studio.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I see,” nodded Mr. King, enlightened.
“About dropping that rope, though, some one
will have to assist me. Let one of your men go
up with me.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='119' id='Page_119'></span>Just here the hunter man sneaked behind the
automobile. The Indian actor got very busy donning
the garb of a prison guard.</p>

<p class='c013'>“They don’t seem to want to try it,” laughed
Mr. King.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Would I do?” asked Dave, promptly stepping
forward.</p>

<p class='c013'>“The very thing,” exclaimed the motion picture
man.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Not afraid, Dashaway?” asked Mr. King.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Afraid? With you? I’d be the happiest
boy in the world,” declared Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“All right—get aboard,” directed the aviator.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Here’s your rope,” added the motion picture
man. “I’ll signal with a flag when I want you
to make the swoop, Mr King.”</p>

<p class='c013'>The airman pointed to a seat directly behind
his own. Nimbly Dave clambered over the wing
and gearing and began his first ride in an airship.</p>
<div class='pbb'></div>
<hr class='pb c000' />
<div class='chapter'>
  <span class='pageno' title='120' id='Page_120'></span>
  <h2 id='chapXV' class='c001'>CHAPTER XV</h2>
</div>

<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c004'>
    <div>THE PARACHUTE GARMENT</div>
  </div>
</div>

<p class='c012'>“Oh!” said Dave Dashaway simply, in a
transport of delight.</p>

<p class='c013'>There was a creak, a hum. Its even keel protected
by two hangar men waiting ready for the
task, the <i>Aegis</i> moved forward on its rubber shod
wheels revolving on ball bearing axles in a soft,
lifting glide that was indescribable.</p>

<p class='c013'>The monoplane progressed in a straight line
for perhaps forty feet. Then it took a straightaway
flight.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave knew nothing of the mechanism of the
plane. His eyes were fixed in a fascinated way
on the aviator. With supreme faith in the expertness
of the man guiding the frail yet sturdy craft,
Dave did not experience a single qualm of fear.
To every move of the skilled hand of the airman
the splendid construction responded instantly.
Dave had just one vivid sense of air sailing, safe
and ecstatic, as the <i>Aegis</i> arose like an arrow to
what seemed dizzying height. Then it began
gracefully circling the aviation field.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='121' id='Page_121'></span>Dave sat so near to the airman that he had him
in full view. He could catch his every word and
movement.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Just feeling the air,” yelled Mr. King.
“She’s prime. Now then, slip that strap across
your waist.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I shan’t fall out. I’m holding on tight,”
yelled back Dave, his utterance coming in little
gasping jerks.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Never mind. Do as I say. That’s it. Now
I’ll tell you something.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, sir,” nodded Dave attentively.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Start in the teeth of the wind, always. I’m
feeling it now,” and the expert bent a cheek to
one side. “It’s a ten mile zephyr. That’s easy.”</p>

<p class='c013'>The aviator did no fancy or trick air sailing.
He kept widening his circles and increasing his
speed. With a swift movement he took a lateral
dart over towards a hill, passed beyond it, made
a sharp turn, and then another ascent.</p>

<p class='c013'>Of a sudden there was a dip. The hand of the
aviator moved quick as lightning to the mechanism
controlling the elevator.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Whew! we struck a hole that time,” he exclaimed.</p>

<p class='c013'>“A hole?” repeated Dave vaguely.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, a hole in the air. That angle I turned
was too sharp, but luckily the elevator was neutral.
It’s too gusty. We’ve got to volplane.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='122' id='Page_122'></span>Now came the crisis. Dave was nearly thrown
out of the seat as a stray wind gust caught the
tail of the plane. The machine was nearly
thrown up perpendicularly. Dave was not
alarmed, but he was thrilled and excited. He
could tell from the face of the aviator that Mr.
King was working out some delicate problem of
balance and adjustment. Abruptly the machine
righted and sailed downwards on a sharp slant.</p>

<p class='c013'>“We’re coming down pancake. Lucky for
us,” spoke Mr. King in a tone of voice decidedly
strained. “If we hadn’t, we would have scraped
a wing, sure as fate.”</p>

<p class='c013'>They were now directly over the field. Dave
made out the motion picture group.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Mr. King,” he said, “I think the manager is
waving a flag.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Then it’s our signal. We’ll cut the circle
next whirl around the course. Everything in
place below there?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I think it is,” replied Dave, glancing down.
“The convict is ready for us, I am sure.”</p>

<p class='c013'>The airman had superb control of his machine.
He had descended to a one hundred foot level,
and narrowed the circles as they got directly above
the spot where the man dressed in convict garb
was seated. The latter was watching for them.
Near by two prison guards were walking up and
down. Dave had tied one end of the rope to the
arm of the seat he occupied. The other end,
weighted, was coiled up in his lap.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='123' id='Page_123'></span>“Now,” ordered Mr. King, slowing up and
directing the machine not thirty feet above the
ground.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave dropped the weighted end of the rope.
The convict threw down his hammer and grasped
it. Bang! bang! went the rifles. The convict
clung on, starting a seeming flight skywards. He
let go five feet from the ground, and that section
of the motion picture was cut off.</p>

<p class='c013'>Mr. King made a quick close landing. They
had to roll fifty feet over the course to escape
a collision with a biplane just getting ready for a
flight.</p>

<p class='c013'>The motion picture manager came up to them
smiling and pleased.</p>

<p class='c013'>“That was first class,” he said. “We got the
basis for one-half dozen airship scenes, Mr. King.
See here, this gentleman has made a proposition
to me that strikes me right. He wants to talk
it over with you.”</p>

<p class='c013'>The airman turned to find himself facing the
old inventor. Dave noticed that the latter was
full of some excitement.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Mr. King, you can do me the biggest favor
of my life,” declared Mr. Dixon earnestly.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Indeed—how is that?” asked the aviator.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='124' id='Page_124'></span>“My parachute garment, you know. You said
you would take up the matter with me this afternoon.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I know I did, and so I will.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I want you to anticipate that.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“In what way?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I was talking to the motion picture man here,
and he made a new suggestion to me. You know
how anxious I am to get my invention before the
public. It would about make me to have a test
made to-day, and the trial photographed, and my
invention be shown all over the country in moving
picture shows.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“That is quite an idea for a fact,” agreed the
airman.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Can’t it be arranged?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, here,” broke in the manager. “I have
thought out quite a little scheme. If I could get
a picture of some one jumping from an airship it
would be a thrilling and a genuine novelty. You
see, I could work in quite a story.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“How?” asked Mr. King, getting interested.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Well, that man over yonder with the torpedo
monoplane says he’ll join in for a consideration.
Your airship is supposed to contain a fugitive
from justice, bent on escaping by the air route.
The torpedo monoplane is a sort of police aircraft,
in pursuit. Work up a regular chase. The
criminal springs from your monoplane just as the
pursuer is about to overtake you.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='125' id='Page_125'></span>“I can see quite some pretty play possible,”
said Mr. King. “Have you found one ready to
risk his neck getting into your parachute suit?”
he asked of the inventor.</p>

<p class='c013'>“You thought you could find my man for me,”
reminded the latter.</p>

<p class='c013'>“That’s so.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Mr. King glanced over at Dave. He reflected
silently for a moment or two. Then he beckoned
Dave aside from the others.</p>

<p class='c013'>“See here, Dashaway,” he said, “you’ve heard
what these people are putting up to me?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, sir, I understand the situation,” answered
Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“There’s some money in this for whoever tries
it. I wouldn’t let a novice take a risk, but I’ll
say from what I’ve seen of the parachute suit
of this old fellow that it’s no great trick to take
a short drop in it.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Then why not let me try it?” asked Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“You’re willing?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“More than willing.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Well, I’ll tell you what I’ll do. The old
inventor is pestering me to death, and while I’d be
glad to help him along, I also want to get rid of
him. He’ll be satisfied if he can announce to airmen
generally that a successful test of his device
was made from the <i>Aegis</i>, under my supervision.
I think I’ll let you try it.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='126' id='Page_126'></span>The airman again consulted with the inventor
and the motion picture manager. A few minutes
later some arrangement seemed to be agreed
upon. The inventor went away. The manager
proceeded over to the torpedo monoplane. When
the inventor came back he had a long box under
his arm. He, the airman and Dave went over
to where the <i>Aegis</i> stood. The inventor produced
his patent parachute suit from the box.</p>

<p class='c013'>He explained how it worked as Dave put it on.
Then the airman and Dave went aloft on a little
run in the machine. At twenty feet, and then at
fifty feet from the ground Dave jumped from the
monoplane. In both instances he descended
through the air light as a feather. He not only
landed safely on his feet, but he did not experience
the least disturbing jar.</p>

<p class='c013'>While they were thus practicing for a more
spectacular leap, Dave could see the old inventor
almost dancing around with suspense and satisfaction.
The camera man was notified that the
<i>Aegis</i> was ready for its part in the picture. The
torpedo monoplane got aloft, and the scene began.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave by this time felt so safe, easy and at
home up in the air, that he greatly enjoyed the
mock chase. It was like two immense birds in
a race. The machines came pretty close together
finally on a level about one hundred feet
from the ground.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='127' id='Page_127'></span>Dave caught the signal for the drop from the
motion picture manager below.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Ready,” said Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Be careful, Dashaway,” warned Mr. King.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Here she goes,” answered Dave simply, and
shot earthwards.</p>
<div class='pbb'></div>
<hr class='pb c000' />
<div class='chapter'>
  <span class='pageno' title='128' id='Page_128'></span>
  <h2 id='chapXVI' class='c001'>CHAPTER XVI</h2>
</div>

<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c004'>
    <div>THE YOUNG AVIATOR</div>
  </div>
</div>

<p class='c012'>“There he is, Dave,” said Hiram Dobbs.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, that is Jerry Dawson, sure enough.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“You see he is here.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I knew before this that he was,” replied Dave.
“Mr. King told me this morning that young
Dawson and his father were both working for an
airman named Russell.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Well, Dave,” said Hiram in quite a serious
tone, “I want you to look out for that fellow.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why? I never did him any harm.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Because I’m around a good deal, and I hear a
lot of things you don’t. That Jerry Dawson is a
selfish, vicious boy. His father, they say, is almost
as bad, and the man they are working for,
Russell, has been barred from some meets on account
of winning an altitude race by a trick.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I’ve heard of Russell, too,” responded Dave.
“He’s no friend of Mr. King, and that’s enough
for me. As to Jerry, though, I have no business
with him, and don’t intend to have if I can help
it.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='129' id='Page_129'></span>“He’ll cross your path in some mean way, you
mark my words,” said Hiram warningly. “He’s
got an idea that he owes Mr. King a grudge, and
he’s crazy to pay it off. Down by the south
pylons early this morning, I saw him talking to
two of the roughest looking fellows I ever met.
You was at your practice, and Jerry pointed you
out to the men, and was whispering to them—something
about you, I’ll bet.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I’ll keep an eye out for him, but I’m not a bit
scared,” said Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>Hiram spoke of pylons just now as if he had
known what they meant all his life. It was nearly
a week after his first meeting with Dave, and a
vast improvement was visible in the manner, position
and finances of the humble but ambitious
farm lad.</p>

<p class='c013'>Hiram had gone to work with a vengeance.
Mr. King had told him that there were many steps
to the ladder leading to fame and fortune in
the aviation field, and Hiram had taken this literally.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why, I’m willing to scrub floors, work as
candy butcher, tar ropes, wash dishes, peddle
programmes, anything honest to reach that first
rung,” he had told Dave back at Fairfield. “I’ll
make good every step I take, no matter how slow
or hard it is, I’m going to become an aviator, like
yourself, Dave.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='130' id='Page_130'></span>“Me an aviator?” smiled Dave. “You flatter
me, Hiram.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Do I?” retorted Hiram. “Well, then, so
does Mr. King. And your teacher, old Grimshaw.
He says he never saw a person take to the
business like you do. Mr. King was bragging
about you, too, down at the office yesterday. He
actually talked about entering you in one of the
races next week.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave flushed with pleasure. He was too sensible
to imagine himself a full-fledged aviator, or
anything like it. At the same time, he could not
deny that he had learned a great many new things
within the past ten days.</p>

<p class='c013'>He did not look much like the tired, dusty and
threadbare boy who had left Brompton hungry,
barefooted and practically penniless. The one
hundred feet descent from the <i>Aegis</i> in the old inventor’s
parachute garment had been a complete
success. It had put Dave in funds, too, for Mr.
Dixon had given him a ten dollar bill for his services.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I don’t pretend to be much more than a rediscoverer
as to my parachute device,” Dixon acknowledged.
“It’s up to date, and it does what
I claim for it, though. Tell you, Dashaway, I’ll
be over to the Dayton meet, and I’ll add a five
dollar bill to every one hundred feet you drop
with my apparatus.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='131' id='Page_131'></span>“It really does work, doesn’t it, Mr. King?”
Dave asked of the aviator a little later.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Oh, yes,” replied the airman, somewhat indifferently.
“It won’t sell much, though, outside
of amateurs.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why not?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“A professional won’t admit any lack of skill
or pluck, any more than a crack swimmer would
use a life preserver. Another thing, a crack operator
can’t be hampered with a suit tied around
his ankles. Still another thing, when the moment
arrives for an airman to desert the ship, things are
so desperate he hasn’t much chance of jumping
clear of the machine.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave had also received some money from the
motion picture manager. Then Mr. King handed
him what was due him of a modest salary for the
broken week.</p>

<p class='c013'>Saturday afternoon Mr. King had arranged to
ship his traps to Dayton, all except the monoplane,
in which he and his young assistant made the trip.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave found his friend, Hiram, on the new
grounds. The country boy was in high spirits.
He had worked tirelessly while at Fairfield.
When there were no visitors to the grounds, he
went into the town. He sold out a lot of leftover
souvenirs, and that Saturday afternoon
boasted gleefully of being for the first time in his
life the possessor of ten dollars.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='132' id='Page_132'></span>“All my own,” he announced, “and I’m going
to tidy up a bit. Come and help me pick out a
cheap suit, Dave.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, and I need a complete outfit myself,”
explained Dave. “I tell you, Hiram, this is a
great day for two poor fellows who hadn’t a
quarter between them a week ago.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“And see what we are learning,” added Hiram.
“If ever airshipping gets to be the go for
traveling about, we’ll be in right on the jump,
won’t we?”</p>

<p class='c013'>Mr. King was pleased to see the improved appearance
of his young apprentice in a neat sensible
suit of clothes. He had taken a decided liking to
Dave, who was quick, reliable and accommodating.
Dave felt like a bird given its freedom after
a long and irksome captivity. His head was
full of aviation all of the time, however, and the
various airmen he got acquainted with were all
willing and glad to answer his questions about
this and that detail of the different make machines.</p>

<p class='c013'>Monday morning, Mr. King had taken Dave
down to a roped-off section of the aviation field.
It held a tent covering an old type airplane, and
also housing a queer old fellow with one arm,
whom the airman introduced to Dave as Mr.
Grimshaw.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='133' id='Page_133'></span>“Here’s the young fellow I was telling you
about,” said Mr. King. “You’ll find him a likely
pupil.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I’ll soon know it, if that’s so,” responded the
gruff, grim old fellow. “Put him right through
the regular course of sprouts, eh?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“That’s what I want. It’s what he wants, too.
Make it special, Grimshaw. I’ve great hopes of
him, and don’t want him worked in a crowd.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave understood that his kind employer was
spending some money for his instruction. He felt
duly grateful. He entered into his work with vim
and ardor, determined to make rapid progress, to
show Mr. King how he appreciated his friendly
interest in him.</p>

<p class='c013'>For three days Dave was with Grimshaw from
ten to twelve o’clock in the morning and two to
four in the afternoon. The rest of the time he
was helping about the little building, where Mr.
King made his headquarters. His employer was
preparing to enter for the first day’s altitude prize.
There was practicing to do, and the <i>Aegis</i> needed
constant attention. Dave now knew how to oil it,
keep the tanks full and clean up the monoplane.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave had heard that his gruff old tutor, Grimshaw,
had been quite a balloonist in his time. A
fall from an airship had crippled him. He was
useful in his line, however, kept pace with all the
new wrinkles in aviation, and ran a kind of school
for amateurs.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='134' id='Page_134'></span>From the first step in learning how to run the
airplane, to the point when with a wild cheer
Dave felt himself safe in making a brief flight all
by himself, our hero’s progress was one of unceasing
interest and delight.</p>

<p class='c013'>The first step was to learn how to glide. Dave
aboard the glider, Grimshaw and an assistant
helped get the airplane under way. They carried
the weight of the machine and overcame its head
resistance by running forward at its own rate of
speed.</p>

<p class='c013'>Over the course Dave ran and repeated. As
the glider cut into the air, the wind caused by the
running caught under the uplifted edge of the
curved planes, buoying up the machine and causing
it to rise. At first Dave lifted only a foot or
two clear of the ground. Then he projected his
feet slightly forward, so as to shift the center of
gravity a trifle and bring the edges of the glider
on an exact level parallel with the ground.</p>

<p class='c013'>“You see,” old Grimshaw would say, “you
scoop up the advancing air and rise upon it. Keep
the planes steady, for if they tilt the air is spilled.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave soon learned the rudiments. He knew
that in his first experiment he must watch out that
the rear end of the skids or the tail did not scrape
over the turf or slap the ground hard and break
off. He kept the machine always under control,
so it would not get tail heavy. He guarded
<span class='pageno' title='135' id='Page_135'></span>against wing deflection, and the second day felt
proud as a king when his tutor relented from his
usual grimness, and told him quite emphatically
that he would “do.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Never stubbed the toe of the machine, and
that’s pretty fine for a beginner,” commented the
veteran airman.</p>

<p class='c013'>It was not until Dave had a chance at a real
biplane that he felt that he had gained a glorious
promotion. He spent hours looking over a technical
book Mr. King had loaned him. He hung
around old Grimshaw every spare moment he
could find. It was the afternoon on his third
day’s tuition when Dave started his first real
flight.</p>

<p class='c013'>He had learned the perfect use of the rudder
from running the airplane up and down the
ground. Dave knew the danger of leaving the
course unexpectedly in his frequent practice runs.
He knew how to gauge a rush of air against the
face, how to use the elevator as a brake to keep
from pitching forward. Dave had mastered a
heap of important details, and felt strong confidence
in himself.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave rose a few feet from the ground with the
motor wide open. He moved the rudder very
gingerly. The switch was of the knife variety,
and the throttle and advance spark were in the
form of pedals working against springs.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='136' id='Page_136'></span>“Ready,” called out Grimshaw, in his strange
forbidding voice.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Ready I am,” warbled Dave, keen for the
contest of his skill.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Then let her go.”</p>

<p class='c013'>The biplane took a superb shoot into the air.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave was not afraid of forgetting how to run
the machine straight ahead. He had watched
Mr. King at the level too often for that. He got
fairly aloft, tried coasting, veered, struck a new
level, and worked the ailerons to decrease any
tendency for tipping.</p>

<p class='c013'>On his second turn Dave had to use the emergency
brake, the stout bar of steel on the skid
near the rear end. He banked on a spirited whirl,
got his level, circled the course twice, and came
back to the ground flushed with excitement and
delight, without so much as a wrinkle put in the
staunch aircraft.</p>

<p class='c013'>It was on this account that Dave felt proud and
then modest, as his staunch friend, Hiram, referred
to him as an aviator. He had entire confidence
now in his ability to manage an airship
alone. Dave had some pretty ambitious dreams
as he went on his way. Great preparations were
being made for the meet, which was to open the
next morning.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='137' id='Page_137'></span>Dave kept busy about the <i>Aegis</i> quarters. Just
at dusk Mr. King sent him to the town near by
to order some supplies from a hardware store.
Dave attended to his commissions and started
back for the grounds an hour later.</p>

<p class='c013'>Just as he passed through the crowd about the
main entrance to the aviation field our hero turned
as he heard a voice say quickly and in a meaning
way:</p>

<p class='c013'>“There he is!”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, it’s the Dashaway fellow,” was responded.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave made out two forms skulking into the
shadow of the office building. Then some passersby
shut them out from view.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Hello,” said Dave to himself, “that sounds
and looks suspicious.”</p>
<div class='pbb'></div>
<hr class='pb c000' />
<div class='chapter'>
  <span class='pageno' title='138' id='Page_138'></span>
  <h2 id='chapXVII' class='c001'>CHAPTER XVII</h2>
</div>

<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c004'>
    <div>KIDNAPPED</div>
  </div>
</div>

<p class='c012'>If Hiram Dobbs had not pronounced so serious
a warning only a few hours previous, Dave
would not have paid much attention to the incident
of the moment.</p>

<p class='c013'>Hiram had spoken of two rough looking characters
in the company of Jerry Dawson. Here
were a couple who filled the bill, strangers to
Dave, and yet speaking his name in a way that
was sinister.</p>

<p class='c013'>“They’re gone, whoever they are,” said Dave
a few moments later, and dismissed them from
his mind for the time being.</p>

<p class='c013'>He walked down the row of automobiles and
other vehicles lining the main entrance road.
There was quite a crowd. General admission to
the grounds was free to any one respectable that
day and evening.</p>

<p class='c013'>Outside of the curious visitors who had gone the
rounds of the hangars, there were groups of airmen
and others discussing the features of the morrow’s
flights.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='139' id='Page_139'></span>Dave passed along through the crowds, interested
in all he saw. When he got to that part of
the broad roadway where the booths and crowds
were sparser, he deviated to cross towards the
hangars at one side of the great course.</p>

<p class='c013'>He met a few people and here and there came
across tents given to the exhibiting of some new
model, or occupied by employees who worked
about the field. Most of those who ate and
slept on the grounds, however, were down at the
center of animation near the big gate, and Dave’s
walk was a rather lonely one.</p>

<p class='c013'>“It’s going to be the week of my life,” thought
the youth. “I wonder if there’s any hope at all
of my taking a flight, as Hiram hinted. Not but
that I believe I could manage a biplane as well
as any amateur. Hello!”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave was rudely aroused from his glowing
dreams as he passed a tent where a man with a
lantern was tinkering over a motorcycle. Happening
to glance back, Dave saw two stealthy
figures in the dim distance.</p>

<p class='c013'>“They are the men I noticed at the entrance,”
decided Dave. “There, they’ve split up. One
has gone out of sight around the tent, and the
other has made a pretence of stopping to watch
the fellow mending that motorcycle.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='140' id='Page_140'></span>Dave hastened his speed, making straight for
the hangars. The row in which Mr. King
housed his machine was quite remote from the
others. It was bright starlight, and glancing
over his shoulders several times Dave was sure
that he made out the two men he was suspicious
of following in his tracks.</p>

<p class='c013'>They neared him as he passed a row of temporary
buildings. Dave had a mind to stop at
one of these until his pursuers, if such they were,
had made themselves scarce. Then, however, as
he glanced around, he caught no sight of them.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Pshaw!” said Dave, “what am I afraid
of? Perhaps I’m making a mystery out of
nothing. If those fellows intended to do me
any harm, they’d have got at me long since.
They’ve had plenty of chances. I’ll make a bee
line for home and forget all about them.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave put across an unoccupied space. At its
edge were three temporary buildings. Two he
knew held airships. One was quite famous. It
belonged to a wealthy man named Marvin, who
made aeronautics a fad. His machine was a
splendid military monoplane of the latest model,
and was listed to do some heavy air work in
the next day’s programme.</p>

<p class='c013'>All the buildings were dark. Nobody seemed
in their vicinity until Dave neared the larger one
of the three where the military machine was
housed. Then suddenly around one corner of
the canvas house two men came into view.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='141' id='Page_141'></span>“We’ve run him home, I guess,” spoke the
quick voice of one of them.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, there he goes, making for the tent,”
was the retort given in a breath.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave recognized the men as the fellows who
had been so persistently following him. They
had run ahead, it seemed, and waited for his
coming. As they made a move towards him,
showing that they intended to reach and seize
him, Dave started running around the other side
of the building. At this the men separated. One
circled the building and headed him off. Dave
ran back ten feet out of sight. Then, hearing
the other fellow running on from the opposite
direction, Dave crowded through a half open
sliding door.</p>

<p class='c013'>“He’s gone,” sounded on the outside, a minute
later.</p>

<p class='c013'>“No, he’s slipped into that shed. I tell you
we’ve run him home, and if nobody else is around
we can soon finish up our business neat and
quick.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave did not know what that “business” was.
He stood still in the darkness and listened. His
hand had touched the bamboo edge of a machine
wing. He was thinking of seeking a hiding
place, or some other door or window outlet
from the shed, when a sudden flash blinded
and confused him.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='142' id='Page_142'></span>His pursuers had followed him into the place.
One of them carried a portable electric light.
Pressing its button, and focussing its rays first
on one spot and then on another, its holder soon
rested a steady glare on Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“There he is,” sounded out.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, grab him.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“All right.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Got him?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Sure and safe.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave’s captor had great brawny hands and
handled the youth as he would a child. The men
had come prepared for rough and ready action.
The ruffian had felled Dave with a jerk and a
slam, kept beside him, and in a twinkling had
his hands and feet bound tightly. Dave set up a
sharp outcry.</p>

<p class='c013'>“We’ll soon settle that,” said his captor
grimly.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave’s lips were muffled with a gag so tightly
fastened that for a few minutes he could scarcely
breathe. The man who had dealt so summarily
with him arose to his feet.</p>

<p class='c013'>“What now?” asked his companion.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Go out and see if the coast is clear.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I know it is—our way. We’re to make
direct for the high fence behind the hangars.
Near the freight gate, you know. We can open
it from the inside.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='143' id='Page_143'></span>“Let’s be in a hurry, then. Remember
there’s something else to do.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I haven’t forgotten it. The job’s easy this
far. Come ahead.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“We’ll have to carry him?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave was lifted up and swung along by the
two men as if he were a bag of grain. They
made straight for the high rear fence of the
grounds. This they followed for a few hundred
feet.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Here’s the gate,” announced one of the men,
and they dropped Dave to the ground.</p>

<p class='c013'>There was a jangling of chains and hasps.
From where he lay Dave could see the open
country beyond the gateway. He was carried
through. Several vehicles were in view, and the
horses attached to most of them were hitched to
trees or the fence supports. Their owners, Dave
judged, were up at a place some distance away.
Here there were lights and animation. Dave
knew that the building was located there, outside
of the grounds, where the supplies from farmers
and by rail were received.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Say,” spoke one of the men carrying him,
“there’s half a dozen horses and wagons here.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Well, it’s a light wagon with a white horse
we were directed to.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“There it is—see that white horse yonder?”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='144' id='Page_144'></span>“I guess you’re right. Toddle along. This
is no light lump of a youngster.”</p>

<p class='c013'>The men reached a light wagon. Its box was
littered with straw and a lot of empty bags. It
looked to Dave as if its owner had brought a
load of potatoes to the aero meet.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Give him a hoist,” ordered one of the men.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave was lifted, swung, and dropped. He
sank down among the bags and the straw almost
out of sight.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Now where’s the man we were to meet, the
driver of the wagon?” inquired the fellow who
had bound and gagged Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Oh, he’ll probably be here soon. You stay
and wait for him and give him his orders. I’ll
go back and finish up the job.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“You can’t do it alone. It won’t take but a
few minutes. You may want me to hold a light,
or something.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Got the tools?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes”—and the last speaker jangled something
metallic in his pockets.</p>

<p class='c013'>“All right. Let’s waste no time. This is
pretty neat, I call it—the lad settled, and the
machine no good. I’m thinking old King will do
some storming, when he tries another flight.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I think so, too. Come on,” was the retort,
and the two men disappeared through the gateway
of the aviation field.</p>
<div class='pbb'></div>
<hr class='pb c000' />
<div class='chapter'>
  <span class='pageno' title='145' id='Page_145'></span>
  <h2 id='chapXVIII' class='c001'>CHAPTER XVIII</h2>
</div>

<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c004'>
    <div>AN ALL-NIGHT CAPTIVITY</div>
  </div>
</div>

<p class='c012'>Dave sank down in his soft bed of bags and
straw, unable to move hand or foot.</p>

<p class='c013'>The men who had made him a helpless
prisoner had done their work well. Dave could
not use a muscle. As to dislodging the gag or
shouting, that seemed entirely out of the question.</p>

<p class='c013'>The youth had lots of time to think. He
blinked up at the stars, kept his ears on the alert,
and waited for further developments.</p>

<p class='c013'>“There’s something to Hiram’s warning, sure
enough,” he reflected. “If this is the work of
Jerry Dawson, he must be a pretty desperate fellow.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Then Dave began to worry. The last overheard
words of his captors were enlightening.
They had spoken as if it was fully intended to
get him away from his present pleasant employment
and keep him away from it. What affected
Dave most seriously, however, was the hint of
the two men that they had some evil designs
against the <i>Aegis</i>.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='146' id='Page_146'></span>“I think I guess it out,” mused Dave, very
much wrought up mentally. “Jerry Dawson
and his father are bent on getting me out of the
way, and at the same time getting even with Mr.
King, as they call it. I don’t see what they hope
to gain. Mr. King wouldn’t take Jerry back in
his employ in a thousand years, and they wouldn’t
dare to do me any real harm. It would cost them
money to have me shut up anywhere for any
length of time, and the Dawsons haven’t got any
too much of that. Besides, they won’t hold me
long,” declared Dave doughtily, “if I get a
chance to slip them.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave counted the minutes, quite curious as well
as anxious to find out what the next step in the
programme would be. Then he heard voices approaching.</p>

<p class='c013'>“They’re coming back,” decided Dave, “no,”
he corrected himself, “those are not their
voices.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Unhitch him, Jared,” spoke unfamiliar tones.</p>

<p class='c013'>“All right,” responded a boyish voice.
“Straight for home, father?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, we’ll be late as it is, and mother will be
uneasy. Give me the lines. I’ll drive.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Two persons, apparently father and son, lifted
themselves up into the front seat of the wagon,
and the horse started up.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='147' id='Page_147'></span>“That’s queer,” ruminated Dave, “mighty
queer. Why, they don’t act as if they cared if I
was smothering or already smothered. Why
don’t they wait for the two men who put me in
this awful fix?”</p>

<p class='c013'>The wagon crossed a patch of open ground.
Then a smooth country road was reached and the
horse jogged along his way.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Pretty good price for the stuff you got,
wasn’t it, father?” asked the boy.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, these shows pay us well,” was the
response.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Oh, I’m nobody and nothing, it seems,”
thought Dave. “Wish I had the use of my tongue
for about two minutes. I’d ask these people what
they intend to do with me. They don’t appear
like very bloodthirsty fellows. Maybe, though,
they’re hired to dump me into the first river they
come to, and don’t mind it so long as they get the
money.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Not a word was spoken by either father or son
that showed the least interest on their part in
their helpless passenger. Finally the boy said:</p>

<p class='c013'>“It’s going to rain, father. I felt a sprinkle
just then.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Well, we’ll be home in ten minutes.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave had noticed that the sky had clouded up.
A few drops of rain spattered his face. Then
the horse took a turn, entered a farm yard, and
was halted.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='148' id='Page_148'></span>“You go into the house, father,” said the boy.
“I’ll put up the horse.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“All right, give him his feed, and say, Jared,
you needn’t bother pulling the wagon in.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Just as you say, father.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Throw a hay tarpaulin over the box, so the
bags won’t get soaked, that’s all.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“The mischief!” reflected Dave. “Are they
thinking of leaving me out in a rainstorm all
night?”</p>

<p class='c013'>Apparently this was just what the farmer boy
was going to do. He unhitched the horse and
led him into the stable. Then he came out carrying
a great cover, whistling carelessly. He gave
the tarpaulin a whirl, and it flopped over the box
of the wagon, shutting Dave in snugly. Then, as
there came a dash of rain, the boy ran for the
house, and Dave could hear him run up a pair
of steps and slam a door after him.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Well!”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave nearly exploded with wonder, dismay
and disgust. He wrenched at his bonds, and gave
it up. He tried to bite the gag in his mouth free,
and abandoned that futile attempt also.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I’m certainly booked for a spell right where
I am,” decided Dave. “Maybe those two fellows
who captured me are to come here to get me or
perhaps when the farmer and his son get their
supper they’ll come out and move me somewhere
else.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='149' id='Page_149'></span>Nothing of the kind, however, happened. All
Dave could do was to rest snugly in one position
and listen to the rain patter down on the protecting
tarpaulin. An hour went by very slowly.
Once in a while Dave could catch the echo of a
voice singing inside the farm house. Finally he
heard some windows shut down. Then everything
became still. He knew now that the people
in the house had gone to bed.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave got tired of listening to the ceaseless
piping of the crickets in the grass and the croaking
of the frogs in a pond near by.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I might just as well try to go to sleep myself,
too,” he told himself. “If I don’t, I’ll be in no
shape for the big day to-morrow.”</p>

<p class='c013'>There Dave faltered, with a pang that sent
his heart way down into his shoes. To-morrow!
It would an anxious day for him, if he was kept
in captivity. And Mr. King! Dave writhed as
he feared the worst.</p>

<p class='c013'>He quieted himself finally by thinking out a
new theory, and this made him feel somewhat
hopeful as to himself.</p>

<p class='c013'>“There’s been a miss in the plans of those
scoundrels,” flashed into his mind. “It’s probable,
it’s possible, yes, that’s it, I’ll bet!” decided
Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>He felt more patient and satisfied now. The
boy concluded that the two men who had captured
him had picked out the wrong white horse.
There had been more of that color among those
hitched near the freight gate at the aviation
grounds.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='150' id='Page_150'></span>“They put me in the wrong wagon,” thought
Dave, “and here I am. What will they do when
they learn of their terrific blunder?”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave chuckled over this. If it had not been
for his active fears as to some designs against
Mr. King and the <i>Aegis</i>, Dave would have felt
quite jubilant.</p>

<p class='c013'>“It will be all right in the morning,” he tried
to believe, and finally went to sleep.</p>

<p class='c013'>The loud barking of a dog aroused our hero.
The tarpaulin was shaking, and as its edges
flapped about Dave could tell that it was broad
daylight.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Here, Tige, what are you up to?” shouted
a familiar voice.</p>

<p class='c013'>It was that of the farmer boy who had covered
Dave up in the wagon box the evening previous.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave could trace the movements of the dog,
probably just released from his kennel by his
early rising young master doing his chores about
the barn yard. The animal barked unceasingly,
circled the wagon and tore at the dangling ends of
the tarpaulin. Dave could hear the paws of the
dog as in his excitement he tried to clamber up
into the vehicle.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='151' id='Page_151'></span>“What is it, Tige—a cat under there?” spoke
the farm boy, his voice apparently nearer.</p>

<p class='c013'>Just then, under the dog’s pulling, the tarpaulin
slid clear off to the ground. Dave was dazzled
by a blinding glare of sunlight.</p>

<p class='c013'>The farmer boy sprang upon a wheel hub and
looked down into the wagon box, the dog clawing
and panting at his heels. The eyes of the
amazed lad fell upon Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“For goodness sake!” shouted the farmer
boy. “Where did you come from?”</p>
<div class='pbb'></div>
<hr class='pb c000' />
<div class='chapter'>
  <span class='pageno' title='152' id='Page_152'></span>
  <h2 id='chapXIX' class='c001'>CHAPTER XIX</h2>
</div>

<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c004'>
    <div>ANOTHER MISTAKE</div>
  </div>
</div>

<p class='c012'>Dave Dashaway’s limbs were stiff and his
lips were sore. He could not move nor speak.
He tried to smile to reassure the farmer boy, who
looked startled and scared.</p>

<p class='c013'>The latter swept aside the loose litter of straw
and bags. The minute he got a view of Dave’s
condition he turned pale, jumped down from the
wheel hub and shouted out wildly:</p>

<p class='c013'>“Father, father—come here quick!”</p>

<p class='c013'>The dog kept running around the wagon making
a great ado. Finally some one seemed to
come from the house in response to the call of the
farmer boy, for a voice inquired:</p>

<p class='c013'>“What’s the row here?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“A boy in that wagon box.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Some tramp, I suppose.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“But he’s all tied up with ropes. There’s
even something tied in his mouth, so he can’t talk—only
stare and grin.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“You don’t say!”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='153' id='Page_153'></span>“Yes, I do. Look for yourself.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Well! well! well!”</p>

<p class='c013'>As the farmer lifted himself up on the wagon
box and took a look at Dave, his eyes grew big
as saucers. He felt along the cord coming tightly
across Dave’s cheeks and of the rope binding his
body.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Jared, run into the house, quick, and get
your mother’s scissors,” he ordered.</p>

<p class='c013'>The old man hoisted himself to the edge of the
wagon box, and simply gaped at Dave, as if too
puzzled to figure out how his strange situation
had come about.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Here’s the scissors, father,” finally reported
the boy, who had hurried into the house and out
of it again.</p>

<p class='c013'>The old man went to work on Dave as tenderly
as if he had been a kitten. He carefully snipped
the gag cords.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Bless me!” he said, as he noticed the big red
welts across Dave’s face. “This is mighty cruel
I tell you. Now then,” as he cut the ropes at
hands and feet, “get up and tell us what this
means.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave tried to and failed. His tongue was so
dry and swollen that he could not articulate. His
whole body was numb and spiritless. The
farmer saw his helplessness, ordered his son to
let down the high tailboard of the wagon, and
they gradually slid Dave to the ground and held
him up.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='154' id='Page_154'></span>Gentle mannered people these, Dave decided,
and he was ashamed of himself for ever thinking
that they were parties to the kidnapping plot
of the two men who had captured him the night
previous.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Walk him a bit, Jared, softly now, softly,”
the farmer said. “He’s in a mortal bad fix,
circulation nigh stopped and weak as a cat. I
reckon we’d better get him into the house.”</p>

<p class='c013'>The farmer’s wife looked surprised as her
husband carried Dave to a couch in the family
sitting room and placed him upon it.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why, what’s this?” she exclaimed.</p>

<p class='c013'>“It’s either a measly trick or attempted killing,”
replied the old man indignantly. “Speak
up, lad, how did you come in that plight?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Water!” was all that Dave could choke out,
and the good housewife soon had a glass at his
lips.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Don’t stand gawking at the poor fellow and
pestering him with questions,” cried the farmer’s
wife. “He needs some good hot coffee and
some strengthening food to brace him up,” and
the speaker hurried to the kitchen, where Dave
could hear the sizzling of bacon.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I can talk to you now, sir,” he said, but
weakly, taking another gulp of the reviving
water. “I was kidnapped.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='155' id='Page_155'></span>“Hey!” ejaculated the farmer, with a start.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, sir.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“In my wagon?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“That was a mistake, I believe. Two rough
men were hired to tie me up and gag me and put
me in a wagon in waiting outside of the aero
grounds. They mistook yours for the one they
should have put me in.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Gracious!”</p>

<p class='c013'>“They went back into the grounds, and you
came along and drove me off with you before
they returned.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“You don’t mean to say you’ve been lying in
that wagon ever since last evening?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I do,” replied Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why didn’t you kick and holler?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“How could I?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“That’s so. Well, you just get a bit of
breakfast and mended up, and I’ll drive you back
to town. I hope you intend to get those critters
arrested.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I certainly shall try and find them,” said
Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>In a very few minutes our hero was as good as
ever, as the saying goes. He was young, healthy,
active, and as soon as his blood got to circulating,
the stiffness and soreness began to go
away.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='156' id='Page_156'></span>He was better than ever, he told himself, after
a breakfast so elegant, home-like, and plentiful,
that he made the farmer’s wife flush with pleasure
over his compliments.</p>

<p class='c013'>The farmer’s boy took particular interest in
Dave, when he learned that he was employed
among “the balloon men.” Dave did not go
into details or mention names, for he did not
want anything to get out about his kidnapping
until he had consulted Mr. King.</p>

<p class='c013'>He was anxious and glad, when two hours
later, the farmer drew up his horse at the main
entrance to the aero grounds. Dave made the
man accept a dollar for all his trouble, which
the farmer took reluctantly, saying he would invest
it in kitchen aprons for his wife. Dave also
told him how to send word to him, if he wished
to visit the meet any day during the week.</p>

<p class='c013'>“You can count on free passes,” said Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Thank you, that will be fine,” nodded the
delighted farmer as he drove off.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave dashed breathlessly through the big
gateway. He had simply to lift his hand to the
gatekeeper, who passed him in with a nod, knowing
him and not requiring him to show his entrance
ticket. Then Dave ran down the course,
heading in the direction of the hangars. All his
former anxieties came back to him. He was safe
and free himself, but what had happened after
his two captors had disposed of him?</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='157' id='Page_157'></span>“They had tools, they talked of the <i>Aegis</i>,”
soliloquized Dave. “They were up to some harm
for Mr. King, just the same as myself. Oh,
dear, I hope nothing has happened to the monoplane!”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave passed the building where Hiram made
his headquarters. That friend would of course
know of his strange spell of absence. Hiram
could probably relieve his present worry or
heighten it, but Dave felt that his first duty was
to his employer.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Hold on, there. Hi, stop, Dave—Dave
Dashaway!”</p>

<p class='c013'>This call was bawled out from a window in
the building Dave had just passed. At once he
recognized the voice of his friend. Turning and
half halting, Dave made out Hiram waving his
hand frantically.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Can’t stop—see you later,” shouted Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Must stop.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Hiram never waited to make for a door. He
jumped recklessly from the window, ran down
the road, and overtook his friend.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Say,” he cried, all excitement and curiosity,
“where have you been?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Long story. Want to see Mr. King first.
Have you seen him?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Have I seen him?” repeated Hiram volubly.
“He woke me up at midnight, worried to death
about you. Made me get up and join him in a
search. He said it wasn’t like you to be off skylarking,
with all there was to think about, arrange
and do for today’s flight.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='158' id='Page_158'></span>“He was right there.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I knew it, and told him so,” said Hiram.
“Then he got thinking there was foul play somewhere.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“There was,” assented Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“That Jerry Dawson?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I don’t know.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“You don’t know?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Not positively. Keep along with me, and
I’ll tell you all about it. I’m on pins and needles
till I reach Mr. King. Say, Hiram, answer me
one question.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, sir!”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Has anything happened to the <i>Aegis</i>?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why, what could happen?” inquired Hiram
in a puzzled way.</p>

<p class='c013'>“It’s all right?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“It was an hour ago, when I was up at the
camp. Mr. King was oiling things up himself,
and in a great stew about you, but the <i>Aegis</i> was
the same old beauty.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave heaved an immense sigh of relief. They
were just then passing the shed into which he had
run to escape his pursuers the evening previous.
Dave was about to point it out to his companion
and relate his adventures, when he noticed a big
placard on the side of the shed.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='159' id='Page_159'></span>“What’s that, Hiram?” he asked.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Oh, that?” repeated Hiram. “It’s the talk
of the meet. That’s Marvin’s monoplane, you
know.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes,” nodded Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Well, some one sneaked into the hangar last
night, when all hands were away, and wrecked
the machine.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why!” exclaimed Dave suddenly—and then
added to himself: “I understand!”</p>

<p class='c013'>“That placard,” continued Hiram, “is an
offer of a reward of one hundred dollars for the
detection of the vandals who did the dastardly
work.”</p>
<div class='pbb'></div>
<hr class='pb c000' />
<div class='chapter'>
  <span class='pageno' title='160' id='Page_160'></span>
  <h2 id='chapXX' class='c001'>CHAPTER XX</h2>
</div>

<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c004'>
    <div>IN TRAINING</div>
  </div>
</div>

<p class='c012'>Dave did not speak nor linger. His quick
mind was thinking very actively, though. He
fancied he understood what the wrecking of the
Marvin monoplane meant now.</p>

<p class='c013'>As they passed the open doorway of the shed
Dave could see a crowd inside inspecting the
monoplane it contained. A man he recognized
as Mr. Marvin, the wealthy amateur airman, was
moving about restlessly and talking in an exciting
tone.</p>

<p class='c013'>“It’s a blazing shame!” broke out Hiram.
“Mr. Marvin intended trying a flight himself
to-day. Everybody was encouraging him, and
pleased about it. He’s been awful kind to the
air folks, you know.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, I’ve heard about him,” said Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“He donated several of the medals last meet,
and made up losses for the crowd where things
didn’t pay.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Do they suspect anybody?” asked Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“No,” replied Hiram, shaking his head slowly.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='161' id='Page_161'></span>Then he flashed a shrewd look at Dave, full
in the face, and bolted out the quick challenge:</p>

<p class='c013'>“Do you?”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave changed color. He walked on a little
faster.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why, yes, I do, Hiram, to tell you the truth,”
he replied.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Who is it?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I don’t like to say, Hiram, till I am sure.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Say, Dave Dashaway,” declared Hiram. “I
can bet who it is, first shot. It’s Jerry Dawson,
and you’ve been through a big tussle, for your
face is all marked up and you look peaked and
worried. Isn’t it that Dawson fellow, now?”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave was silent.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Say,” stormed Hiram, “if you don’t answer,
I’ll start right out and find young Dawson, and
knock the truth out of him, along with all the rest
of his meanness.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“You must do nothing of the sort, Hiram,”
remonstrated Dave. “You mustn’t guess anything,
or mix up things, until I have seen Mr.
King.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“You make a fellow mighty curious.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“You will know all about it soon,” promised
Dave. “There is Mr. King now.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Our hero hurried forward as he saw just outside
the <i>Aegis</i> hangar his employer and old Grimshaw.
Mr. King uttered a glad cry as his eye
fell on Dave. The old trainer nodded as pleasantly
as his grim face would allow.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='162' id='Page_162'></span>“Why, Dashaway, where have you been?”
asked Mr. King quickly, looking Dave over as he
would a runaway aeroplane returned.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Oh, I’ve had a little adventure that isn’t
worth the telling, with all there is to do here
this morning,” declared Dave evasively, pulling
off his coat and making a great ado of seeking
some immediate work.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave had made up his mind to defer any explanation
until later in the day. He realized that
it would disturb his employer to relate his adventures
and suspicions. Mr. King, too, was a
hasty man. Dave knew that it would be just
like him to rush off to Mr. Marvin, charge the
Dawsons with the wrecking of his monoplane,
and become generally unnerved for his critical
duties of the day.</p>

<p class='c013'>Later Dave learned that the men who had
kidnapped him had displaced three important
parts of the Marvin monoplane. This had
rendered it impossible to use the machine for the
day. They had probably thrown the stolen parts
into some pit or creek. It was evident that the
two vandals had blundered all along the line.
They had supposed that the shed where they had
cornered Dave was the <i>Aegis</i> hangar, and had
dismantled the wrong machine.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='163' id='Page_163'></span>Dave became so active, and there was so much
to do, that he soon drifted his employer’s
thoughts from himself. Mr. King insisted on
some explanation, however, and Dave evaded
direct information by saying he had got into a
farm wagon by mistake, was carted away, and
slept in the vehicle all night.</p>

<p class='c013'>Within an hour Dave and his own little personal
affairs were obscured and forgotten for the
time being, amid trials of skill and the general
environment of an aero meet. As soon as the
programme for the day was started, it was one
engrossing novelty and thrill after another.</p>

<p class='c013'>The <i>Aegis</i> was in for the altitude race. Dave
was doubly glad that he had not bothered his employer
with the real explanation of his absence
the night before. The airman was a superb
picture of courage, confidence and expertness as
the <i>Aegis</i> bounded from earth and rose in the
lead over the fleet of airships entered for the
contest.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave helped in skidding the machine at the
start, and was promptly on hand when the <i>Aegis</i>
sailed gracefully down to its starting point with
a score of six hundred extra feet to the Fairfield
record.</p>

<p class='c013'>Mr. King was busy after that consulting with
and aiding other aviators in their scheduled feats.
Dave was just finishing a cold lunch at the
hangar, when old Grimshaw poked his head into
view past an open doorway.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='164' id='Page_164'></span>“Off duty, lad?” he inquired, his twinkling
eyes telling Dave that he had something on his
mind.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why, Mr. King has finished his part in the
programme,” replied Dave. “I’ve cleaned up
the <i>Aegis</i>, and just waiting for orders.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Well, I’ve just seen him, and it’s all right.
Like to make some extra money, Dashaway?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Always ready for that,” replied Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Then you come with me,” directed Grimshaw.
“We’ve got a quiet corner over against
the hangars, and I want you to put in all your
spare time for the next two days on biplane practice.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Anything special?” asked Dave, with a hopeful
smile.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I’ll answer that when I see you do some grass
cutting on the double whirl—which you’ll do,”
replied Grimshaw with a chuckle.</p>

<p class='c013'>All that afternoon Dave was put through a
series of trial flights by Grimshaw. The attention
of the crowd was centered upon the main
features of the course, and they were unhindered
and practically unnoticed in their efforts. Dave
made several rapid flights.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='165' id='Page_165'></span>“You’re going to do,” commended Grimshaw
with great satisfaction, as Dave brought the
biplane back to earth for the sixth time without
jar or injury.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Do for what?” inquired Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“You come down here to-morrow at the same
time. Next day, too. Then I’ll tell you something
that will make your eyes snap.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“But why all this mystery, Mr. Grimshaw?”
inquired Dave with a smile.</p>

<p class='c013'>“You do as I say, if you want to earn a record
and some money as the aptest pupil I ever had,”
was all that Grimshaw would explain.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave was helping the man cook get supper
ready at the hangar when Mr. King put in an
appearance. The aviator was in high spirits, for
the day had been a successful one for him.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave told him about his experience with
Grimshaw. The airman nodded pleasantly, as
if he understood what was going on.</p>

<p class='c013'>Hiram came strolling along just as they finished
their meal. Mr. King adjourned to a pile
of benches not in use at a little distance from the
hangar. He settled down into a comfortable
attitude.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Now then, Dashaway,” he observed. “I’ve
been too busy to bother with the mystery of your
being away all last night. Not too busy, though,
not to see that you didn’t tell enough about your
being carted away in the wagon.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='166' id='Page_166'></span>“Yes, Mr. King,” chimed in Hiram. “He’s
got a big story to tell, and I’ve been dying with
curiosity all day long to know what it is.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Give us the story, Dashaway,” directed the
airman.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave recited his adventures of the evening
previous. Mr. King expressed the profoundest
wonderment as Dave gave the simple details of
his mysterious kidnapping. His fine face broke
out into indignation and anger as Hiram cried
out eagerly:</p>

<p class='c013'>“Now then, Dave, tell him who was back of
all this.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why, are you sure I know?” asked Dave
hesitatingly.</p>

<p class='c013'>“It’s the Dawsons, Mr. King,” declared
Hiram. “Listen,” and Hiram told about the two
men whom he had seen conversing with Jerry
Dawson.</p>

<p class='c013'>Mr. King sprang to his feet, deeply aroused.</p>

<p class='c013'>“So that is the secret of the wrecking of the
Marvin machine,” he observed. “There is not
the less doubt in my mind that the Dawsons are
at the bottom of all this mischief. Now then,
lads, I don’t want you to even lisp your suspicions
to an outsider.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Both Dave and Hiram promised that they
would obey the injunction.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='167' id='Page_167'></span>“I’m going to rid these meets of all this class
of rascals, or know the reason,” declared the
stirred-up airman with vehemence. “I shall
have this affair run down to the limit, and if I
fasten the business on the Dawsons, it will be a
satisfaction to see them barred from all future
aero meets.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Mr. King walked excitedly away in the direction
of the Marvin hangar. The two friends
remained on the bench pile discussing the case
in its various bearings.</p>

<p class='c013'>Then Dave gave Hiram an inkling that Grimshaw
had him in active training for some reason
soon to develop.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I hope I’m going to get a chance to do something
worth while in the aero line, Hiram,” he
said. “How I used to dream about all this when
I was back at Brookville.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Was that where you lived, Dave?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes.” And one confidence led to another,
and Dave found an interested listener to the details
of his past life.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Well, you’ve had quite an experience, haven’t
you, Dave?” said Hiram. “That old guardian
of yours is a mean one, and no mistake.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I’m glad to be away from him,” said Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Hello!” interrupted Hiram.</p>

<p class='c013'>He jumped down from the bench pile, as he
noticed a slouching figure moving stealthily away
from the other side of it.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='168' id='Page_168'></span>“Dave,” exclaimed Hiram, “do you know I
believe that fellow has been listening to every
word we said.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why, what of it?” asked Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Don’t you know who he is?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“No.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“It’s a fellow named Brooks. He works
around the hangars at odd jobs, and is a regular
crony of Jerry Dawson. Hey, you,” shouted
Hiram after the receding figure, “what you
snooping around here, playing the eavesdropper,
for?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Huh!” retorted the other, “what you coming
along for and waking up a fellow when he’s
taking a nap in the cool of the evening?”</p>

<p class='c013'>Then the fellow walked on. There was a
sneer and a menace in his vicious tones.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I don’t like it,” said Hiram, half to himself,
“I don’t like anything or anybody that mixes up
with Jerry Dawson.”</p>
<div class='pbb'></div>
<hr class='pb c000' />
<div class='chapter'>
  <span class='pageno' title='169' id='Page_169'></span>
  <h2 id='chapXXI' class='c001'>CHAPTER XXI</h2>
</div>

<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c004'>
    <div>THE AMATEUR TROPHY</div>
  </div>
</div>

<p class='c012'>“There’s your machine,” spoke Grimshaw,
with a grin.</p>

<p class='c013'>“My machine?” repeated Dave Dashaway.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, that’s the biplane I expect to see you
handle better than any operator on the field, or I
shall be mightily disappointed.”</p>

<p class='c013'>It was early morning. Just as breakfast was
over at the <i>Aegis</i> hangar, Grimshaw had appeared.
He had nodded knowingly to Mr. King.
Then he had taken Dave in tow; to lead him to
his quarters, and back to a shed the doors of
which he had just thrown open. The most exquisite
little biplane upon which Dave had ever
feasted his eyes was revealed to view.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why,” exclaimed Dave, “where did it come
from?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Fresh from the factory.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“When?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Last night. We housed it when everybody
was asleep. I suppose you understand, Dashaway?”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='170' id='Page_170'></span>“Hardly,” answered Dave in a vague tone.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why, what have I been training you for, do
you suppose?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“For this, eh?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“What else? About a week ago the makers
of that little beauty, which they call the <i>Baby
Racer</i>, wrote to me asking if they could get a try
out on the course here. They are stunting mostly
for amateur patronage, and want to make a
catchy showing. I fixed things with the show
committee four days ago. The people who own
the machine pay me one hundred dollars for my
trouble. Half of it is yours.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“<i>Fifty dollars!</i>” said Dave in a rapturous
kind of a tone.</p>

<p class='c013'>“It was hard work getting an extra number
on the programme, but Mr. King has fixed that.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“It’s to be a regular entry, then?” asked
Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, it is, and a silver cup trophy for the
best exhibition. Three other new machines are
in the contest.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“But,” demurred Dave modestly, “you can’t
expect me, a mere beginner—”</p>

<p class='c013'>“To win the trophy?” retorted Grimshaw, in
one of his roaring moods. “I certainly do.
Why, are you thinking of disgracing all my careful
training, by making a fizzle of the chance of
a lifetime!”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='171' id='Page_171'></span>Dave was nearly overcome. He distrusted
neither his own nerve nor the excellent training
of his tutor, but the proposition was so sudden it
almost took his breath away.</p>

<p class='c013'>“See here, Dashaway,” broke in the old man,
“you’ve done just what I told you in all our
training stunts, haven’t you?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I’ve tried to, Mr. Grimshaw.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Well, you just keep up those tactics right
along, and I’ll not steer you into any mishaps.
There’s a big bulletin down at the pylon announcing
this flight. Now get yourself in trim,
to show the airmen what you’re made of. Have
the little beauty out and look at her.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave’s fascinated glance rested on a rare combination
of grace and utility, as the <i>Baby Racer</i>
was run out from under cover.</p>

<p class='c013'>The machine was not a large one. It was a
model of compactness, and had every latest improvement.
Grimshaw operated the wings.</p>

<p class='c013'>“It’s an articulated biplane,” he explained.
“See here, where the wings are jointed and
spread and close till they look like a big beetle.
The fuselage is clear spruce. The landing chassis
is made of rattan strips. See those reinforced
skids, and that four cylindered aerial motor?
The owners said she ought to have a muffler,
for she spouts like a blast furnace when she
starts.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='172' id='Page_172'></span>Mr. King came up, smiling and looking
pleased, while tutor and pupil were looking over
the <i>Baby Racer</i>. Then Hiram put in an appearance.
He was so excited that he hopped around
from place to place, telling Dave that he was the
luckiest boy in the world.</p>

<p class='c013'>By and by the news spread of the arrival of a
new model, and a crowd began to gather. Airmen
looked over the natty little machine and
made their comments, <i>pro</i> and <i>con</i>. One fellow
found all kinds of fault. Dave noticed that this
was the most unpopular man with all the field,
and the employer of the Dawsons at the present
time.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Who’s going to run her?” he asked of Grimshaw.</p>

<p class='c013'>The old man placed a hand on Dave’s
shoulder. The latter flushed modestly. The
grumbler gave him a hard look.</p>

<p class='c013'>“That kid?” he observed disgustedly.</p>

<p class='c013'>“He’s one of my crack graduates, I’d have
you know,” retorted Grimshaw, bridling up.</p>

<p class='c013'>“That don’t make him eligible.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Eligible for what?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Running a machine on a licensed course.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I beg your pardon,” said Mr. King, stepping
up, “but we have arranged all that. Here, Dashaway,
keep that about you so you can answer any
impudent questions.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='173' id='Page_173'></span>“A pilot’s license, eh?” muttered the fault-finder—“Oh,
then of course it’s all right.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“It’s not a pilot’s license,” Grimshaw told
Dave after the fellow had sneaked away, “but
it’s just as good as one. It’s a special permit, and
Mr. King’s word and influence stand good for
you.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave passed three anxious but busy hours up
to the time when the extra feature advertised
was announced, and Grimshaw and two assistants
wheeled the <i>Baby Racer</i> out upon the running
course.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Hop in,” ordered Grimshaw, as the spotless
new model was ranged in the row ready for the
start.</p>

<p class='c013'>“There’s the signal,” spoke his assistant.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Go!”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave bounded up into the air, as he got into
position in the roaring machine.</p>

<p class='c013'>Like a gull he soared from the ground and
circled about the meadows to the left of the
course. The pure white wings of the <i>Baby Racer</i>
were dazzling in the sunlight, almost blinding the
staring group of spectators.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave took in the position of the three other
contestants. Then he paid strict attention solely
to the directions his proficient teacher had given
him.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='174' id='Page_174'></span>From a height of several hundred feet Dave
cut off the motor and glided within fifteen feet
of the earth; then with a new roar the engine
started again and up went the mammoth bird.</p>

<p class='c013'>Not satisfied with his test, Dave speeded up
and slowed down several times, and then darted
to earth. Before the machine came to a full stop
he started again and swooped upwards.</p>

<p class='c013'>For a quarter of an hour the biplane soared
above the course, made a final stop, and came
back to the earth within a few feet of the starting
place from its sensational flight in the clouds.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave caught the echo of vast cheering, and as
he was hustled along to the Grimshaw quarters,
he was conscious of being slapped on the back,
of hearing approving comments. He was a little
exhausted and light headed from the unusual
spin, however, and glad to sit down in a reclining
camp chair and get his breath.</p>

<p class='c013'>Grimshaw left him with Hiram, who had
abandoned work for the hour to give full attention
to his friend.</p>

<p class='c013'>“How did I do, Hiram?” asked Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“You did it all,” declared his enthusiastic
champion. “Why, those other fellows just lopped
around like lazy flies. Not one of them went
up over two hundred feet.”</p>

<p class='c013'>A little later they heard Grimshaw approaching.
He was chuckling and talking to himself.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='175' id='Page_175'></span>“A big advertisement for my aviation school,
hey?” he cried, bursting in upon the two friends.
“Dashaway, when you get rested just drop down
to the office and get that trophy.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I’ve won?” cried Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Skill, rapidity and altitude—all three points,”
was the glad announcement of the old aerial engineer.</p>

<p class='c013'>Mr. King came into evidence a few minutes
later.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I’m pretty proud of you, Dashaway,” he
said, in his hearty, forcible way. “This means a
professional dash pretty soon, I can tell you.”</p>

<p class='c013'>About an hour later Dave and Hiram were
making their way to the <i>Aegis</i> hangar. As they
passed one of the temporary refreshment stands
they came upon a crowd of five boys.</p>

<p class='c013'>“It’s Jerry and his crowd,” whispered Hiram.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Don’t pay any attention to them, Hiram,”
answered Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I shan’t, unless they pester me,” replied
Hiram.</p>

<p class='c013'>With Jerry was the young rough, Brooks, the
boy Dave and Hiram had detected behind the pile
of benches. Three others Dave recognized as
young loafers who followed the meets, working
only occasionally.</p>

<p class='c013'>They did not break ranks as they came up
abreast of Dave and Hiram, halting them, which
movement seemed preconcerted on their part.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='176' id='Page_176'></span>“Say, think you’ve done it, don’t you?”
sneered Jerry, looking straight at Dave. “Well,
make the most of it. You’ll never take another
fly.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why won’t he?” challenged Hiram, making
an aggressive forward movement. But Dave
held him back.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Because I’ve got you—got you right, this
time, Dave Dashaway. Back to nature, back to
the farm for you—ha! ha! ha!”</p>

<p class='c013'>And Jerry’s companion joined him in his mocking
jeer as they passed on their way.</p>
<div class='pbb'></div>
<hr class='pb c000' />
<div class='chapter'>
  <span class='pageno' title='177' id='Page_177'></span>
  <h2 id='chapXXII' class='c001'>CHAPTER XXII</h2>
</div>

<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c004'>
    <div>A NIGHT ADVENTURE</div>
  </div>
</div>

<p class='c012'>“Hold on, Dave.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Don’t stop me.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Well, I declare!” cried Hiram Dobbs.</p>

<p class='c013'>The country lad, developed into a first class
“field” man, was almost thrust aside by the
young aviator.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave Dashaway had certainly won this latter
distinction during the past week. The morning
of the cup trophy with the <i>Baby Racer</i> had been
a start in the right direction. Two days later
Dave had accompanied Mr. King in a non-stop
race across the country, adding to the victory
laurels of the popular airman, and to the vast
store of practical experience that the lad had already
acquired.</p>

<p class='c013'>Mr. King had now filled all the numbers on
the programme for which he had entered. He
had promised Dave some “real work,” as he
termed it, at the next meet. Then there had come
an opportunity to enter Dave and the <i>Aegis</i> in a
one hundred mile dash in which over half-a-dozen
contestants were to take part.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='178' id='Page_178'></span>For this, the most pretentious “stunt” he had
yet attempted, Dave had been practicing all that
day. Now, late in the afternoon, he and Hiram
had strolled into the town. They were just passing
the leading hotel of the place, when Dave
grabbed the arm of his companion so suddenly
and excitedly that Hiram regarded him in
wonder.</p>

<p class='c013'>He noticed that Dave was staring fixedly at a
handsome blue painted automobile. That machine
had just sped from the curb, a chauffeur in
charge, a faultlessly dressed young fellow
lolling back in the tonneau. Dave gasped,
watched the auto whirl down the street at rapid
speed, and then made a wild rush as if bent on
following it.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Hold on, Dave.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Don’t stop me.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Well, I declare!”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave had run out into the street. Hiram kept
pace with him, wondering what in the world it
all meant. Suddenly Dave turned in his course.
He made a sudden dash for the curb where
several taxicabs stood. Reaching one, of these,
he touched the arm of its chauffeur waiting for
a fare.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Quick,” spoke Dave, “follow that blue car.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Hey, hello, who are you?” challenged the
men, staring at Dave vaguely.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='179' id='Page_179'></span>“Oh, afraid of your fare?” retorted Dave.
“Here, I’ve got over fifty dollars in my pocket
book.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“He’s Dave Dashaway,” put in Hiram, as if
that meant everything. “He works for Mr.
King—you know him?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“That crowd is good enough for me,” at once
announced the chauffeur. “Jump in. What’s
your orders?”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave sprang into the tonneau. The marvelling
Hiram followed his leader. He could not
imagine what Dave was up to, but he had confidence
enough in his associate to feel that Dave
knew his business on every occasion.</p>

<p class='c013'>“That blue car, the one that just left the curb,”
began Dave, leaning over towards the chauffeur,
who had touched the wheel promptly.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Collins’ car, yes,” nodded the man.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Follow it till it stops,” directed Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“That will be at Genoa.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“How do you know?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I heard the fare give the order.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Well, keep it in sight. Can you do it?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Trust me,” responded the chauffeur, starting
up his machine.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Don’t catch quite up with them. I want to
get off when that boy stops.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“All right.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='180' id='Page_180'></span>The chauffeur speeded up. As he turned the
next street corner the rear red lights of the blue
auto could be seen a square distant.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave settled back in the comfortable cushioned
seat like a person letting down after a severe
strain.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Dave Dashaway,” broke in Hiram at length,
unable to restrain his curiosity any longer, “what
does this mean?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why, you heard me tell the chauffeur what I
wanted,” said Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“You are following that boy.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why, Dave?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Because I want to find out where he lives,”
replied Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Who is he?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“You remember my telling you about being
robbed in a lodging house at Brompton, just before
I came to Fairfield?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Oh, yes. You mean by the fellow who got
Mr. King’s medal and watch and money?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“That’s it.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“A boy with a scar on his cheek?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Exactly.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Has this one, in that automobile?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I didn’t see. I didn’t have to,” replied Dave.
“It’s there, though, don’t doubt it, for that is the
fellow who robbed me.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Sure?”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='181' id='Page_181'></span>“Oh, yes, I’d know his face among a thousand.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why don’t you have him arrested?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“If there had been a policeman in sight I would
have done that, on my first impulse,” declared
Dave. “There wasn’t and I’ve had time to
think.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“What are you going to do?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Follow him to Genoa, find out where he
stays, and make sure of getting him before he
knows that I am on his track and becomes
alarmed.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“That’s so. What you’re thinking of, too, I
suppose, is Mr. King’s property?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“That’s it. Of course this boy thief has disposed
of it, but if I get him cornered right he may
be glad to tell where it is.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave relapsed into thought, laying out his plans
as to the boy in the auto ahead. Hiram had
never been in an automobile before. He gave
himself up to the enjoyment of the invigorating
breeze and the rapid spin.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Say,” he broke out finally, as a new thought
struck him, “that boy you’re after looked pretty
finely dressed up, didn’t he?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“It seems so,” responded Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“And hiring an automobile, too. He must
have lots of money.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Stolen, probably,” said Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='182' id='Page_182'></span>The chauffeur seemed to thoroughly understand
his business. He kept the blue car always
in view, but progressed so as not to awaken any
suspicion that he was following it.</p>

<p class='c013'>Genoa was about twenty miles distant. The
blue car did not proceed very fast. It stopped
at a little town on the way. Its passenger
smoked a great many cigarettes, and seemed enjoying
an easy, luxurious ride.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave’s car kept near to the blue auto as they
reached the outskirts of Genoa. Finally the blue
car halted in front of a hotel. Its passenger
leaped to the curb, took out a roll of banknotes,
and ostentatiously paid the chauffeur.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Stop right here,” Dave ordered. “I’ll be
back soon.”</p>

<p class='c013'>He got to the sidewalk, and was directly in front
of the hotel as the boy he was following strutted
through its entrance with an important air. As
he came under the full glare of the electric light,
Dave caught sight of the tell-tale scar on his
cheek.</p>

<p class='c013'>The fellow did not much resemble the lodging
house boy. His hair was neatly cared for, his
clothes were of the most expensive kind. For
all the world, he suggested a person with plenty
of money to spend and wealthy relations.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='183' id='Page_183'></span>The boy went up to the desk of the hotel clerk,
who bowed and smiled to him as though he was
some favored and welcome guest. The clerk
handed him a key, and the boy went over to the
elevator and stepped in. Dave quickly hastened
to the desk.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Excuse me,” he said, “but I wish to see the
young man who just got his key.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, room 47. Take the elevator,” vouchsafed
the clerk.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Thank you.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave waited till the elevator had come down.
Then he went up to the fourth floor. He went
down a corridor, scanning the little porcelain
numbers on the doors.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Here it is,” he said eagerly to himself—“No.
47.”</p>

<p class='c013'>A light showed through its transom. Tap—tap—tap!
Dave knocked smartly on the door
panel. Some one, whistling and bustling about
within the room, moved to the door, unlocked it,
and Dave stood face to face with the boy who had
robbed him in the lodging house at Brompton.</p>
<div class='pbb'></div>
<hr class='pb c000' />
<div class='chapter'>
  <span class='pageno' title='184' id='Page_184'></span>
  <h2 id='chapXXIII' class='c001'>CHAPTER XXIII</h2>
</div>

<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c004'>
    <div>A GREAT SURPRISE</div>
  </div>
</div>

<p class='c012'>Dave looked the boy he had followed and run
to cover squarely in the eye. There could be no
mistake as to his identity. The scar on his face
showed plainly. For all of his gay clothes and
jaunty appearance, the fellow had the same repellant
features that Dave had noticed at the lodging
house the night he was robbed.</p>

<p class='c013'>For a minute the fellow looked surprised.
Then his memory quickened to recognition. He
turned pale, his lips trembled, and he blurted out
unsteadily:</p>

<p class='c013'>“W—what do you want?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I want you,” said Dave simply and sternly.</p>

<p class='c013'>Quick as a flash the boy thief realized his situation,
it seemed. He made a move for which
Dave was unprepared. Making a light spring,
one hand extended, he swept Dave clear of the
threshold of the room, and sent him crashing
back against the other wall of the corridor.</p>

<p class='c013'>Before Dave could recover himself the door
was violently slammed shut. Dave heard the
key turn in the lock. Then there were hurried
movements about the room.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='185' id='Page_185'></span>Dave was mad at being outwitted. He was
determined, too. He threw himself against the
door, but could not budge it.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Open this door!” he shouted, pounding upon
the panels. “It will be the better for you.”</p>

<p class='c013'>No attention was paid to this. Dave continued
to hammer on the door.</p>

<p class='c013'>“You’re a thief!” he cried. “I’ll rouse the
whole hotel and leave you publicly disgraced if
you don’t come out. I want back the property
you stole from me, and I’m bound to have it.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave made a spring. His foot landed on the
outside door knob. He caught at the tilted transom
to steady himself. Just then a figure came
hurrying down the corridor. Dave’s foot was
seized and he was dragged to the floor.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Here, what you up to, with all this noise?”
demanded his captor, a hall man of the hotel, by
his uniform.</p>

<p class='c013'>“There’s a thief in that room,” cried Dave
breathlessly.</p>

<p class='c013'>“A thief?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“How do you know?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“He robbed me. He just slammed the door
in my face. Have you a key to that room?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why, yes, but——”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='186' id='Page_186'></span>“Unlock the door, then. I’ll face him down
for you. You can take both of us to the hotel
clerk, and I’ll speak the truth.”</p>

<p class='c013'>The hall man hesitated a trifle, but Dave’s
earnest urging induced him to produce a bunch
of keys. Dave rushed into the room. He
looked all around it.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why,” he cried, “it’s empty! The fellow is
gone!”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave peered into a closet, under a bed, and
then ran to the window. There the hall man
was looking at a coat and hat lying on the platform
of the fire escape, just outside of the casement.</p>

<p class='c013'>“This is a queer go,” he said, slowly and dubiously,
“but there seems to be something to your
story.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I should think there was, a whole lot,” declared
Dave. “Don’t you see?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“What?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“The fellow has escaped. He knew I was
bound to get into this room. Those things fell
out of his satchel as he got through the window.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, his satchel is gone, that’s so,” observed
the hall man. “Say, you had better report this
to the clerk.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='187' id='Page_187'></span>Dave was very much disturbed and disappointed.
There could be no doubt that the boy
thief had escaped by the window route. It would
probably be in vain to try to follow him now.
Dave dashed out into the corridor and ran down
the stairs, not waiting for the elevator.</p>

<p class='c013'>The clerk was talking to a guest, polite and imperturbable.
He simply inclined his head as
Dave burst forth:</p>

<p class='c013'>“The boy in 47.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Ah, yes!” answered the hotel clerk.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Who is he?”</p>

<p class='c013'>The clerk turned the big register around, flipped
back a page or two, and set his finger on a
name.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave read it, and nearly fell down where he
stood. He had never been so startled and dumbfounded
in his life. The name on the register,
written in a big, sprawling hand was——</p>

<p class='c013'>“Dave Dashaway!”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave grasped the marble counter slab for support
with both hands. He gasped and started.</p>

<p class='c013'>“My name!” he exclaimed. “Why, what
does this mean?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“What’s the trouble?” inquired the guest, who
had been conversing with the clerk. He could
not help but notice Dave’s perturbation.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why,” cried Dave, “I followed a fellow
here, to room 47. He is a thief. He robbed
me of valuable property two weeks ago. He just
slammed the door of his room in my face.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='188' id='Page_188'></span>“A thief?” spoke the clerk, arching his eyebrows.
“Are you pretty sure?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I should think so,” retorted Dave, “seeing
that, rather than meet me, he has made off by the
fire escape, baggage and all.”</p>

<p class='c013'>The hotel clerk blinked in his usual calm way,
but touched a bell to summon the hall man from
the fourth floor.</p>

<p class='c013'>“And he stole my name,” cried Dave.
“Why?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Is that your name?” inquired the clerk, pointing
to the register.</p>

<p class='c013'>“It is,” assented Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Strange. Let me see, forty-seven—Dashaway,”
and the clerk went to a case covered with
little cards and selected one. “Oh, yes, has been
here twice in a week. Prompt pay. Old gentlemen
with him here once, grandfather, I believe.
Very respectable old man.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“See here,” said Dave realizing that he was
wasting time, “I don’t want to make you any
trouble, but I must report this to the police.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“The only thing to do, I should say,” replied
the clerk.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Where is the nearest police station?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Two squares down, one square south.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Thank you,” said Dave, and darted away.</p>

<p class='c013'>He hurried out of the hotel and up to the automobile
he had recently left.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='189' id='Page_189'></span>“Wait here,” he directed Hiram.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Is it the boy you supposed?” asked Hiram.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes. I can’t explain now. I’ll be back in
five minutes.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave was not afraid to face the police on this
occasion. He could now use the name of Mr.
King. He planned to have the police get
promptly on the trail of the boy thief.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave located the police station and ran up its
steps. At a desk in a large room sat the office
clerk, writing.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I want to report a case of robbery,” said
Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“All right, see the lieutenant,” responded the
clerk.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Where is he?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“That’s his room yonder,” was the reply, and
the man pointed to a small room leading off from
the main apartment. “He’s off with a squad, but
he’ll be back soon.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave moved over to the open doorway indicated.
He was greatly excited over all the incidents
of the past two hours, and hardly had the
patience to wait for the lieutenant.</p>

<p class='c013'>He decided to go into the room, however,
and wait for the official’s return. The minute
he stepped across the threshold, however, he was
aware that the room held two occupants.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='190' id='Page_190'></span>Then Dave Dashaway discovered something
else, that was the surprise of his life. First one,
and then the other of the two occupants of the
room arose in a hurry.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why, what luck—the very boy!” sounded
one voice.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Dave Dashaway!” cried the other.</p>

<p class='c013'>And the boy aviator came to a standstill with a
shock, as he recognized his old guardian, Silas
Warner, and the sheriff from Brookville.</p>
<div class='pbb'></div>
<hr class='pb c000' />
<div class='chapter'>
  <span class='pageno' title='191' id='Page_191'></span>
  <h2 id='chapXXIV' class='c001'>CHAPTER XXIV</h2>
</div>

<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c004'>
    <div>SOMETHING WRONG</div>
  </div>
</div>

<p class='c012'>Dave was a good deal disheartened. It was
several hours after his meeting with the two persons
he wished most to avoid. And now Dave
was a prisoner.</p>

<p class='c013'>He sat crowded up on the back seat of a rickety
old wagon, covered with canvas top and sides,
and boarded up at the back. Beside him was his
foxy-eyed, ferret-faced guardian, old Silas Warner.
On the front seat, acting as driver, was the
Brookville sheriff. Around Dave’s wrist was
what is called a “come-along,” or rope handcuff,
its two crossed stay pieces of wood being held
tightly by the watchful, sleepless Warner.</p>

<p class='c013'>The way this had all come about seemed like
a dream to Dave. The instant that his guardian
and the sheriff had recognized the runaway they
were seeking, they had pounced down upon poor
Dave like hungry wolves.</p>

<p class='c013'>Silas Warner held our hero while the sheriff hurried
out into the main room of the station. He
spoke a few words to the police clerk, and then
<span class='pageno' title='192' id='Page_192'></span>Dave was led out of the place, both men holding
tightly to him, and soon found himself in a room
in a cheap boarding house.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave had tried to expostulate, to explain. His
jubilant captors had refused to listen to him. He
had frantically begged of them to allow him to
send word to some friends, to take a simple message
to the police lieutenant.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Don’t trust him for a minute, Daniel Jackson,”
his guardian shouted to the sheriff. “You
know what a slippery one he is.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“But it’s important,” pleaded Dave. “A fellow
robbed me. He must be caught.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“All a pack of lies,” declared old Warner.
“Don’t trust him or listen to him, Sheriff. He’s
trying to get his friends to rescue him, trying to
put on time to delay us, and slip.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Oh, indeed, no,” answered Dave desperately.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Shut up. Sheriff, we’ll make our plans, and
bundle this boy back to Brookville quick as we
can get him there.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Over Dave the sheriff kept close watch and
ward while Warner went away to make arrangements
of which Dave learned later. It was long
after midnight when these plans were perfected.
By that time, from the conversation of the two
men, Dave found out a great deal that was new
to him, and astonished him not a little.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='193' id='Page_193'></span>It seemed that by the sheerest accident the two
men had come across Dave at a time when they
were on their way to Dayton to arrest him.
They were on their way to that city, because Jerry
Dawson had written Warner that there he would
find his runaway ward.</p>

<p class='c013'>This was the reason why Jerry had boasted to
Dave that he would not make any more air flights.
His crony, Brooks, had overheard Dave tell
Hiram all about his guardian and the circumstances
of his leaving home, and the mean-spirited
Jerry had been quick to take advantage of the
chance to get his rival into trouble.</p>

<p class='c013'>It seemed that Warner, with his usual miserly
penuriousness had hired the sheriff to “work
cheap.” They had got as far as Genoa through
“lifts” in various farm wagons. They had taken
the cheapest lodgings that evening they could find.
The sheriff and Warner happened to be at the
police station, because the former had a slight acquaintance
with the lieutenant, and was waiting
to see him when Dave arrived.</p>

<p class='c013'>Silas Warner had managed to hire a sorry nag
and a miserable wreck of an old milk wagon to
convey them back to Brookville. Dave’s feelings
may be imagined when he found himself in the
clutches of the enemy. He had been in torment
to think that Hiram and the chauffeur would wait
for him vainly. He wondered what Mr. King
would think of this second unusual absence.
<span class='pageno' title='194' id='Page_194'></span>Most of all, poor Dave nearly wept when a
thought of the great air race of the morrow came
into his mind. He would miss the grand event in
which he had hoped to take so proud a part.</p>

<p class='c013'>“It’s awful, just awful,” reflected Dave, feeling
well-nigh crushed, “and no hope of my getting
any word of explanation to my friends.”</p>

<p class='c013'>It must have been two o’clock in the morning
when the wagon come to a halt. Dave had
caught sight of lights ahead on the road as they
jogged along. Then strains of music grew
plainer. The shouts of merry makers filled the
air.</p>

<p class='c013'>It appeared that they had reached a roadhouse
with a dancing pavilion and park attached to it,
much in favor with excursion parties from the
country around. Outside of the place stood a
hayrack with four horses attached.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Horse needs a rest, Warner,” the sheriff declared,
“and some refreshment wouldn’t hurt
you and me, hey?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Nothing for me, Sheriff, nothing for me,” the
miserly old fellow was quick to retort. “Of
course you can buy what you want—with your
own money.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Just so. Well, I’ll stretch my limbs a little
and sort of see what that jolly crowd is up to.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='195' id='Page_195'></span>The old man kept his tight hold on Dave. He
would silence the youth every time the latter tried
to talk or reason with him or question him. With
low mutterings and chuckles he hinted that the
law would see to it that Dave did not again “desert
his comfortable home.”</p>

<p class='c013'>It was fully four o’clock when the sheriff came
back to the wagon. He pulled himself up into
the seat like an overfed porpoise.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Just going to break up, that crowd,” he observed,
“and having a great time. I wish I
was young again. Get up, there,” he added to
the horse.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave made up his mind that he would be given
no chance to escape, at least during the trip to
Brookville.</p>

<p class='c013'>There came a rumbling behind them as the
horse was plodding along a narrow country road
with a deep ditch on either side of it. Then
singing voices broke the silence. The party from
the roadhouse was homeward bound.</p>

<p class='c013'>The road twisted and turned. At its narrowest
part, before the sleepy-headed driver could
realize it, the great loaded hayrack wagon lumbered
by. Its side grazed the inside wheels of
the wagon the sheriff was driving.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Hey, look out!” yelled the officer.</p>

<p class='c013'>Derisive shouts answered him. There was a
crash, a tip over, and down the embankment went
horse, wagon and passengers. The hayrack
crowd indulged in mocking cat calls as if it was
a great joke, and went on without anybody trying
to find out what damage had been done.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='196' id='Page_196'></span>The horse broke loose from the rotten old
shafts of the wagon before it rolled over twice.
The frame of the box cover was crushed in and
the wooden end was reduced to kindling wood.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave was jerked free from his guardian, rope
handcuff and all. He landed in a great clump of
bushes, was slightly jarred, and lay there for a
minute or two.</p>

<p class='c013'>“The scoundrels!” roared the sheriff, extricating
himself from a nest of brambles. “What
you whining about, Warner?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I’ve torn my best coat all down the back, and
I’ve got a lump on my head big as a goose egg.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“How’s the prisoner?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Hi, whoop! That’s so, Sheriff, he’s sloped.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“What! after all our trouble?”</p>

<p class='c013'>That was enough to rouse up Dave. Now was
his chance. Day was just breaking, but it was
dark and dim down in the ditch. On hands and
knees, bending down low, the boy crept along its
windings. Where the road turned and the ditch
followed it, he felt safe in rising to his feet and
starting on a keen run.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave did not venture to climb up to the road as
yet. His late captors would certainly make some
kind of a search for him. He kept on running
along in the dry ditch, out of view from the road.
<span class='pageno' title='197' id='Page_197'></span>Its bottom was rock strewn, and several times his
feet became tangled up in trailing vines. Finally,
all unaware of what he was heading into, Dave
plunged into a maze of bushes to take a direct
tumble where the ditch dropped suddenly nearly
a dozen feet.</p>

<p class='c013'>It was a gravel pit Dave had fallen into, and a
heavy tree stump lay at its bottom. Dave’s head
struck this as he landed, and he was stunned.</p>

<p class='c013'>He was conscious of partially rousing a little
later. In a dreamy, dazed way the main idea
in his mind was that he was very sleepy. Dave
passed into another spell of insensibility. He
awoke with a start finally, to find the sun shining
brightly on his face.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Oh, the mischief!” exclaimed Dave, as he
realized that the day was several hours old.</p>

<p class='c013'>The boy felt of his head. He found a lump
there, but he was as bright as a dollar otherwise.
He was immensely satisfied to find himself free.
If his late captors had searched for him, they had
looked in the wrong direction.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave got up on the roadway and looked up
and down it. No one was in sight. He crossed
it, plunged through the timber, and reaching a
north and south road faced the sun on a pretty
good sprint.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='198' id='Page_198'></span>Dave wondered what had become of his guardian,
and the sheriff, and the wrecked milk wagon.
It seemed certain that sooner or later his enemies
would look for him at Dayton. The lad did not
mind that so much just now. He had great faith
in Mr. King, and he believed that the airman
would find some way to circumvent his enemies.</p>

<p class='c013'>“It’s missing the race that makes me feel bad,”
ruminated Dave. “Of course they’ll find a substitute
to take my place.”</p>

<p class='c013'>A mile down the road Dave came to a farmhouse.
The men folks were out in the field and
the mistress was just washing up her breakfast
dishes. She prepared a hasty meal for Dave,
which refreshed him considerably. She directed
him to the nearest town, gave him a clear idea of
his bearings, and told him it was nine o’clock.</p>

<p class='c013'>“They are just starting at the meet,” said Dave
rather mournfully, as he proceeded on his way.
“That lady said Clyde is two miles ahead. Why,
I remember now, Clyde is one of the towns on the
route of the one hundred mile dash. Some of
the contestants ought to be passing over the place
inside of the next fifteen minutes.”</p>

<p class='c013'>A farmer came along in a light wagon and
gave Dave a lift. Just as they drove into Clyde,
the man made the sudden remark:</p>

<p class='c013'>“There’s one of them airships.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Over towards the southeast a whizzing monoplane
was speeding on its way.</p>

<p class='c013'>“The race is on,” decided Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='199' id='Page_199'></span>“There’s another!” cried his companion, and
stopped his wagon and got out. Dave followed
his example, thanked him for the lift, and, looking
upwards, walked on to a rise where he could
get a better view of the air movements.</p>

<p class='c013'>In turn four machines came into view. One
or two of them were near enough for Dave to
recognize. A queer qualm came over him as a
fifth machine drove a course directly over the
town.</p>

<p class='c013'>“The racing monoplane I was to have run,” he
said breathlessly. “I wonder who has taken my
place? Hello—something wrong!”</p>

<p class='c013'>Like a soaring eagle suddenly wounded, the
monoplane dropped one wing. It curvetted under
a manipulation of the rudder. Then with no
reason apparent for the strange movement, the
monoplane tilted at a sharp angle.</p>

<p class='c013'>“He’s gone—it’s a smash up!” shouted Dave
in a transport of the wildest anxiety and alarm.</p>

<p class='c013'>To a casual observance the daring airman aloft
was simply giving spectators a stock thrill. Dave
realized instantly that something was wrong.</p>

<p class='c013'>To him it was apparent that the operator of the
racing monoplane had unaccountably lost entire
control of his machine, and was headed for sure
destruction.</p>
<div class='pbb'></div>
<hr class='pb c000' />
<div class='chapter'>
  <span class='pageno' title='200' id='Page_200'></span>
  <h2 id='chapXXV' class='c001'>CHAPTER XXV</h2>
</div>

<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c004'>
    <div>CONCLUSION</div>
  </div>
</div>

<p class='c012'>Dave came to a dead halt with a shock. In
deep distress and suspense he watched the diving
monoplane. On every expert calculation, machine
and operator were doomed.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave expected every moment to see the operator
thrown out of the seat. He could not conceive
what was passing in the mind of the operator.
The machine did not seem to be crippled.
Dave doubted if the most daring airman would
risk that dangerous glide unless compelled to do
so.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Oh, that’s good—grand!” fairly shouted
Dave, as, one hundred feet from the ground, the
monoplane slowed, described two mammoth circles,
and then resuming the descent, reached the
earth, rolled almost fifty feet, and came to a safe
halt.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave started on a dead run for the spot.
Others from all directions preceded him. By the
time he reached the place where the monoplane
had landed, it was surrounded ten deep by crowding
excited people.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='201' id='Page_201'></span>“Is he dead?” Dave heard one ask.</p>

<p class='c013'>“No, only hurt.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why,” said Dave to himself in a startled
way, “it’s Mr. Worthington.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave had been able to peer through the crowd.
He made out the monoplane, safe and trim, at
rest. Some men were lifting the operator out
of it. Dave recognized him as one of the professional
aviators of the meet.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Here, young fellow, don’t crowd so,” remonstrated
a gaping spectator, as Dave tried to press
through the throng.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I know that man,” explained Dave. “Please
let me get to him.”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave cleared the crowd and hurried over to
where they had placed Mr. Worthington on the
grass. The latter looked white and exhausted.
He held a handkerchief to his lips, and Dave noticed
that it was red stained.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Oh, Mr. Worthington,” spoke Dave, kneeling
at the side of the prostrate man. “Don’t
you know me?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why, Dashaway!” replied the aviator, trying
to smile. “You here?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Are you injured?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Hemorrhage, Doctor told me my lungs
couldn’t stand the upper currents. Too strong
for me. Fainted away. Caught myself just in
time.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='202' id='Page_202'></span>“Get a doctor,” spoke Dave to the men.</p>

<p class='c013'>“No, no,” demurred Worthington. “I’m all
right now. No more air sailing for me for a
time, though, I fancy. Say, Dashaway!”</p>

<p class='c013'>In a spurt of excitement Worthington sat up,
and his eyes glowed as he fixed his glance on
Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I was in the lead,” he resumed.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I saw you was.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why can’t you——”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Continue the race?” supplemented Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Shall I?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Don’t lose a moment. She’s the best and fastest
machine in the race. She’s done 460 miles in
8: 17: 30. There’s 18 gallons of gasoline
aboard and five of lubricating oil.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I know all about it—the route marked out,
too,” said Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Then win the day!”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I’ll try.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Give him a start,” cried the enthused aviator
to the men about him; and in thirty seconds the racing
monoplane was once again driving for the sky.</p>

<p class='c013'>All that Worthington had said about the monoplane
the machine certainly deserved. Dave had
never handled so capable a flyer. It was
equipped with a marine compass for cross country
work, and the acetylene lights for night flying.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='203' id='Page_203'></span>“Grass cutting to the heart’s content in this
beauty!” cried Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>He was all on his mettle, the way things had
turned out, and made a superb start. The machine
was in splendid trim. Dave took one good
look ahead, behind and sideways, and then devoted
all his attention to the business of the hour.</p>

<p class='c013'>He had studied out the route the day previous.
As on the hill at Clyde, each town on the course
had a white flag hoisted at the highest point in
town, with the monogram in black of the national
aero club.</p>

<p class='c013'>It was about thirty-five miles to the turning
point, fifty more back. As Dave started the return
dash, he passed his rivals straggling along,
the nearest one five miles from the first goal.</p>

<p class='c013'>Once on the return trip, Dave dropped to the
ground, on a level meadow where a gaping farmer
and his four employees stood fascinated at
his graceful descent. The engine was not working
at its best speed. Dave gave it a brief rest,
impressed the farm hands into service, and started
up the engine by swinging the propellor. This
operation required more caution than cranking an
automobile. With the switch off, Dave turned
the propellor several times to fill the cylinders
with gas, leaving it just ahead of the dead center
of one of the cylinders, and with one blade extending
upwards. Then he was off on the home
stretch.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='204' id='Page_204'></span>It was plain sailing now. Town after town
Dave passed and then he saw the aero course in
the distance. He made straight for the grounds,
for two machines were racing at their best only a
mile distance in his wake. As the gasoline was
consumed the monoplane increased its speed, and
as the essence gave out, just before making the
final landing dip, the machine must have been making
over seventy miles an hour.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why, it’s Dashaway!”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Where’s Worthington?”</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave smiled in a happy way at old Grimshaw
and Hiram, who were among the throng that
crowded about the landed racer. He made a
brief explanation and was borne in triumph to the
King hangar by his delighted friends.</p>

<p class='c013'>It took Dave an hour to satisfy the curious
and excited Hiram with an explanation of his
mysterious disappearance of the evening previous,
and the story of his arriving at Clyde just in
time to complete Worthington’s broken trip.</p>

<p class='c013'>This part of the story soon got about the
grounds. It added a new lustre to the exploit of
the hour. Worthington arrived in the camp an
hour later, not much the worse for his accident.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='205' id='Page_205'></span>“You’ve made it, lad!” cried old Grimshaw in
delight. “You’ve got a record to go on now that
older hands would give their ears for.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I am glad,” said Dave simply, and he was,
indeed, very glad and very happy.</p>

<p class='c013'>Only one feature marred the pleasure of the
occasion. Mr. King was not at the hangars.
Hiram explained that he and the automobile chauffeur
had waited till midnight where Dave had
left them at Genoa. Then, alarmed they had
sped back to Dayton and had told Mr. King all
they knew about the strange affair.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Mr. King said he would fathom the mystery
and find you, if he had to give up business for a
week,” explained Hiram.</p>

<p class='c013'>“He’s a grand friend,” said Dave with emotion.</p>

<p class='c013'>Dave, Hiram and Grimshaw had just finished
supper when Mr. King appeared. He looked
tired, but his cheery laugh rang out as he slapped
his young protege heartily on the shoulder.</p>

<p class='c013'>“In the name of wonder, what is this I hear
about you, Dashaway?” he cried.</p>

<p class='c013'>“What do you mean, Mr. King?” asked Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“You won the race.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes, sir,” replied Dave modestly.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Picked up Worthington at Clyde, when everything
seemed off for the machine I backed.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='206' id='Page_206'></span>Dave explained. He had an attentive listener.
When Dave had concluded, Mr. King remarked:</p>

<p class='c013'>“I’ll settle the outrageous claims of that annoying
old guardian of yours in double quick
time, Dashaway.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Can it be done?” inquired Dave, anxiously.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Trust me for that.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I intend to.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I’ve been pretty busy on your affairs, Dashaway,”
proceeded the airman. “From what
Hiram here told me, I had a clew to start on.
At the hotel at Genoa I found out about that boy
thief you tried to catch. Finally the hotel clerk
remembered a chum of his in the town. I located
him, and ran on the fellow I was after.
His name is Gregg.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“He made the hotel people think it was Dave
Dashaway.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“There’s a story to that.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Please tell it, Mr. King.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why, the young scamp found some papers
among the stuff he stole from you.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Yes,” nodded Dave, “some letters directed
to my father at Brookville.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“They were from an old friend of your father,
a man named Cyrus Dale.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why, yes,” exclaimed Dave, “I know he
once had a great friend by that name.”</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='207' id='Page_207'></span>“Well, the letters, never answered, invited
your father to bring you to see an old friend who
had become a wealthy man. He did not know
that your father was dead when he wrote them.
This young Gregg was smart enough to see a
chance to work into the favor of Mr. Dale. He
went to him and was at once accepted as Dave
Dashaway. Mr. Dale practically adopted him,
gave him all the money he could spend, and
Gregg was in high clover till I nabbed him.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“He confessed all that, did he?” inquired
Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“He did. I made him sign a confession and
tell where he had sold my watch and medal. I’m
thinking you’ll have a friendly and influential
second father, when we tell Mr. Dale that you
are the real Dave Dashaway.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“I couldn’t have a better friend than you are,
Mr. King,” declared Dave, “if I searched for
a thousand years.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“There’s a new one come on the scene you may
take quite a fancy to,” replied Mr. King, with
a mysterious smile.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Who is that?” inquired Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“You remember the people who sent the <i>Baby
Racer</i> on here for a test?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Oh, yes—the Interstate Aeroplane people,
you mean?” replied Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'>“Well, I met their agent as I came in at the
gate. He will be here shortly to see you.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“To see me?” questioned Dave.</p>

<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' title='208' id='Page_208'></span>“Yes.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“What about?”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Why, after that fine work of yours with the
<i>Baby Racer</i>, and your record to-day, he thinks
you’re the likely, lively, up-to-date aviator he
wants to deal with. He is going to offer to make
a contract with you to exhibit their new hydroplane.
Later they will put their hydro-aeroplane
on the market.”</p>

<p class='c013'>“Good for Dashaway!” cried the irrepressible
Hiram Dobbs. “Hurrah!”</p>

<p class='c013'>“We can chorus that, all of us,” declared the
genial airman. “As a promising young aviator,
Dave Dashaway is certainly a decided success.”</p>

<p class='c013'>So we leave Dave for the present, at the threshold
of his first professional triumph. In our
next volume, entitled “Dave Dashaway and His
Hydroplane; Or, Daring Adventures Over the
Great Lakes,” his experience in a more brilliant
field of aviation will be related.</p>

<p class='c013'>“I’m going to be an aviator myself some day,”
said Hiram, on more than one occasion. “But,
try my best, I won’t ever be a better birdman than
Dave Dashaway!”</p>

<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c004'>
    <div>THE END.</div>
  </div>
</div>

<div class='pbb'></div>
<hr class='pb c000' />

<div class='nf-center-c1'>
  <div class='nf-center'>
    <div><span class='pageno' title='209' id='Page_209'></span><span class='xlarge'>The Dave Dashaway</span></div>
    <div><span class='xlarge'>Series</span></div>
    <div class='c002'>By Roy Rockwood</div>
    <div class='c002'>Author of the “Speedwell Boys Series” and the</div>
    <div>“Great Marvel Series.”</div>
    <div class='c002'><span class='small'>12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Price per volume, 40 cents, postpaid.</span></div>
  </div>
</div>

<hr class='c014' />
<p class='c015'>Never was there a more clever young aviator than
Dave Dashaway, and all up-to-date lads will surely wish
to make his acquaintance.</p>
<div id='figad01'  class='figcenter id003'>
<img src='https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:r:roy-rockwood-dave-dashaway-the-young-aviator-p214.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
</div>

<div class='nf-center-c1'>
<div class='nf-center c016'>
    <div><span class='large'>Dave Dashaway the Young Aviator</span></div>
    <div><span class='small'>or In the Clouds for Fame and Fortune</span></div>
  </div>
</div>

<p class='c017'>This initial volume tells how the hero
ran away from his miserly guardian,
fell in with a successful airman, and became
a young aviator of note.</p>

<div class='nf-center-c1'>
<div class='nf-center c016'>
    <div><span class='large'>Dave Dashaway and His Hydroplane</span></div>
    <div><span class='small'>or Daring Adventures Over the Great Lakes</span></div>
  </div>
</div>

<p class='c017'>Showing how Dave continued his career as a birdman
and had many adventures over the Great Lakes, and
he likewise foiled the plans of some Canadian smugglers.</p>

<div class='nf-center-c1'>
<div class='nf-center c016'>
    <div><span class='large'>Dave Dashaway and His Giant Airship</span></div>
    <div><span class='small'>or A Marvellous Trip Across the Atlantic</span></div>
  </div>
</div>

<p class='c017'>How the giant airship was constructed and how the daring
young aviator and his friends made the hazardous journey
through the clouds from the new world to the old, is
told in a way to hold the reader spellbound.</p>

<div class='nf-center-c1'>
<div class='nf-center c016'>
    <div><span class='large'>Dave Dashaway Around the World</span></div>
    <div><span class='small'>or A Young Yankee Aviator Among Many Nations</span></div>
  </div>
</div>

<p class='c017'>An absorbing tale of a great air flight around the world, of
hairbreath adventures in Alaska, Siberia and elsewhere.
A true to life picture of what may be accomplished in the
near future.</p>
<hr class='c014' />

<div class='nf-center-c1'>
  <div class='nf-center'>
    <div>CUPPLES &amp; LEON CO.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Publishers&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;NEW YORK</div>
  </div>
</div>

<div class='pbb'></div>
<hr class='pb c000' />

<div class='nf-center-c1'>
  <div class='nf-center'>
    <div><span class='pageno' title='210' id='Page_210'></span><span class='xlarge'>The Speedwell Boys</span></div>
    <div><span class='xlarge'>Series</span></div>
    <div class='c002'>By Roy Rockwood</div>
    <div class='c002'>Author of “The Dave Dashaway Series,” “Great Marvel</div>
    <div>Series,” etc.</div>
    <div class='c018'><span class='small'>12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Price per volume, 40 cents, postpaid</span></div>
  </div>
</div>

<p class='c015'>All boys who love to be on the go will welcome the
Speedwell boys. They are clean cut and loyal to the core—youths
well worth knowing.</p>
<hr class='c019' />
<div id='figad02'  class='figcenter id003'>
<img src='https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:r:roy-rockwood-dave-dashaway-the-young-aviator-p215.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
</div>

<div class='nf-center-c1'>
<div class='nf-center c016'>
    <div><span class='large'>The Speedwell Boys on Motor Cycles</span></div>
    <div><span class='small'>or The Mystery of a Great Conflagration</span></div>
  </div>
</div>

<p class='c017'>The lads were poor, but they did a rich
man a great service and he presented
them with their motor cycles. What a
great fire led to is exceedingly well told.</p>

<div class='nf-center-c1'>
<div class='nf-center c016'>
    <div><span class='large'>The Speedwell Boys and Their Racing Auto</span></div>
    <div><span class='small'>or A Run for the Golden Cup</span></div>
  </div>
</div>

<p class='c017'>A tale of automobiling and of intense rivalry on the road.
There was an endurance run and the boys entered the
contest. On the run they rounded up some men who
were wanted by the law.</p>

<div class='nf-center-c1'>
<div class='nf-center c016'>
    <div><span class='large'>The Speedwell Boys and Their Power Launch</span></div>
    <div><span class='small'>or To the Rescue of the Castaways</span></div>
  </div>
</div>

<p class='c017'>Here is a water story of unusual interest. There was a
wreck and the lads, in their power launch, set out to the
rescue. A vivid picture of a great storm adds to the interest
of the tale.</p>

<div class='nf-center-c1'>
<div class='nf-center c016'>
    <div><span class='large'>The Speedwell Boys in a Submarine</span></div>
    <div><span class='small'>or The Lost Treasure of Rocky Cove</span></div>
  </div>
</div>

<p class='c017'>An old sailor knows of a treasure lost under water because
of a cliff falling into the sea. The boys get a chance to go
out in a submarine and they make a hunt for the treasure.
Life under the water is well described.</p>
<hr class='c014' />

<div class='nf-center-c1'>
  <div class='nf-center'>
    <div>CUPPLES &amp; LEON CO.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Publishers&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;NEW YORK</div>
  </div>
</div>

<div class='pbb'></div>
<hr class='pb c000' />

<div class='nf-center-c1'>
  <div class='nf-center'>
    <div><span class='pageno' title='211' id='Page_211'></span><span class='xlarge'>The Motor Boys Series</span></div>
    <div><span class='small'>(<i>Trade Mark, Reg. U. S. Pat. Of.</i>)</span></div>
    <div class='c002'>By Clarence Young</div>
    <div class='c002'><span class='small'>Cloth. 12mo. Illustrated. Price per volume, 60 cents postpaid.</span></div>
  </div>
</div>

<div id='figad03'  class='figcenter id003'>
<img src='https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:r:roy-rockwood-dave-dashaway-the-young-aviator-p216a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
</div>
<div class='lg-container-b c020'>
  <div class='linegroup'>
    <div class='group'>
      <div class='line'>The Motor Boys</div>
      <div class='line in4'><span class='small'>or Chums Through Thick and Thin</span></div>
      <div class='line'>The Motor Boys Overland</div>
      <div class='line in4'><span class='small'>or A Long Trip for Fun and Fortune</span></div>
      <div class='line'>The Motor Boys in Mexico</div>
      <div class='line in4'><span class='small'>or The Secret of The Buried City</span></div>
      <div class='line'>The Motor Boys Across the Plains</div>
      <div class='line in4'><span class='small'>or The Hermit of Lost Lake</span></div>
    </div>
  </div>
</div>

<div id='figad04'  class='figcenter id003'>
<img src='https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:r:roy-rockwood-dave-dashaway-the-young-aviator-p216b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
</div>
<div class='lg-container-b c020'>
  <div class='linegroup'>
    <div class='group'>
      <div class='line'>The Motor Boys Afloat</div>
      <div class='line in4'><span class='small'>or The Stirring Cruise of the Dartaway</span></div>
      <div class='line'>The Motor Boys on the Atlantic</div>
      <div class='line in4'><span class='small'>or The Mystery of the Lighthouse</span></div>
      <div class='line'>The Motor Boys in Strange Waters</div>
      <div class='line in4'><span class='small'>or Lost in a Floating Forest</span></div>
      <div class='line'>The Motor Boys on the Pacific</div>
      <div class='line in4'><span class='small'>or the Young Derelict Hunters</span></div>
    </div>
  </div>
</div>

<div id='figad05'  class='figcenter id003'>
<img src='https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:r:roy-rockwood-dave-dashaway-the-young-aviator-p216c.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
</div>
<div class='lg-container-b c020'>
  <div class='linegroup'>
    <div class='group'>
      <div class='line'>The Motor Boys in the Clouds</div>
      <div class='line in4'><span class='small'>or A Trip for Fame and Fortune</span></div>
      <div class='line'>The Motor Boys over the Rockies</div>
      <div class='line in4'><span class='small'>or A Mystery of the Air</span></div>
      <div class='line'>The Motor Boys Over the Ocean</div>
      <div class='line in4'><span class='small'>or A Marvellous Rescue in Mid-Air</span></div>
      <div class='line'>The Motor Boys on the Wing</div>
      <div class='line in4'><span class='small'>or Seeking the Airship Treasure</span></div>
    </div>
  </div>
</div>

<div id='figad06'  class='figcenter id003'>
<img src='https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:r:roy-rockwood-dave-dashaway-the-young-aviator-p216d.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
</div>
<div class='lg-container-b c020'>
  <div class='linegroup'>
    <div class='group'>
      <div class='line'>The Motor Boys After a Fortune</div>
      <div class='line in4'><span class='small'>or The Hut on Snake Island</span></div>
      <div class='line'>The Motor Boys on the Border</div>
      <div class='line in4'><span class='small'>or Sixty Nuggets of Gold</span></div>
      <div class='line'>The Motor Boys Under the Sea</div>
      <div class='line in4'><span class='small'>(<i>new</i>) or From Airship to Submarine</span></div>
    </div>
  </div>
</div>

<hr class='c014' />

<div class='nf-center-c1'>
  <div class='nf-center'>
    <div>CUPPLES &amp; LEON CO.,&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Publishers&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;NEW YORK</div>
  </div>
</div>

<div class='pbb'></div>
<hr class='pb c000' />

<div class='nf-center-c1'>
  <div class='nf-center'>
    <div><span class='pageno' title='212' id='Page_212'></span><span class='xlarge'>The Webster Series</span></div>
    <div class='c002'>By Frank V. Webster</div>
  </div>
</div>

<div id='figad07'  class='figcenter id003'>
<img src='https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:r:roy-rockwood-dave-dashaway-the-young-aviator-p217.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
</div>
<p class='c017'>Mr. WEBSTER’S style is very much like
that of the boys’ favorite author, the late lamented
Horatio Alger Jr., but his tales are thoroughly
up-to-date. The stories are as clean as they are
clever, and will prove of absorbing interest to
boys everywhere.</p>
<p class='c017'><span class='small'>Cloth. 12mo. Over 200 pages each. Illustrated.
Stamped in various colors. Price
per volume, 40 cents, postpaid.</span></p>
<div class='lg-container-l c021'>
  <div class='linegroup'>
    <div class='group'>
      <div class='line'>Only A Farm Boy</div>
      <div class='line in4'>or Dan Hardy’s Rise in Life</div>
      <div class='line'>Tom The Telephone Boy</div>
      <div class='line in4'>or The Mystery of a Message</div>
      <div class='line'>The Boy From The Ranch</div>
      <div class='line in4'>or Roy Bradner’s City Experiences</div>
      <div class='line'>The Young Treasure Hunter</div>
      <div class='line in4'>or Fred Stanley’s Trip to Alaska</div>
      <div class='line'>Bob The Castaway</div>
      <div class='line in4'>or The Wreck of the Eagle</div>
      <div class='line'>The Newsboy Partners</div>
      <div class='line in4'>or Who Was Dick Box?</div>
      <div class='line'>Two Boy Gold Miners</div>
      <div class='line in4'>or Lost in the Mountains</div>
      <div class='line'>The Young Firemen of Lakeville</div>
      <div class='line in4'>or Herbert Dare’s Pluck</div>
      <div class='line'>The Boy Pilot of the Lakes</div>
      <div class='line in4'>or Nat Morton’s Perils</div>
      <div class='line'>The Boys of Bellwood School</div>
      <div class='line in4'>or Frank Jordan’s Triumph</div>
      <div class='line'>Jack The Runaway</div>
      <div class='line in4'>or On the Road with a Circus</div>
      <div class='line'>Bob Chester’s Grit</div>
      <div class='line in4'>or From Ranch to Riches</div>
      <div class='line'>Airship Andy</div>
      <div class='line in4'>or The Luck of a Brave Boy</div>
      <div class='line'>The High School Rivals</div>
      <div class='line in4'>or Fred Markham’s Struggles</div>
      <div class='line'>Darry The Life Saver</div>
      <div class='line in4'>or The Heroes of the Coast</div>
      <div class='line'>Dick The Bank Boy</div>
      <div class='line in4'>or A Missing Fortune</div>
      <div class='line'>Ben Hardy’s Flying Machine</div>
      <div class='line in4'>or Making a Record for Himself</div>
      <div class='line'>Harry Watson’s High School Days</div>
      <div class='line in4'>or The Rivals of Rivertown</div>
      <div class='line'>Comrades of the Saddle</div>
      <div class='line in4'>or The Young Rough Riders of the Plains</div>
      <div class='line'>The Boys of the Wireless</div>
      <div class='line in4'>or a Stirring Rescue from the Deep</div>
    </div>
  </div>
</div>

<hr class='c019' />

<div class='nf-center-c1'>
  <div class='nf-center'>
    <div>CUPPLES &amp; LEON CO.,&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Publishers&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;NEW YORK</div>
  </div>
</div>
</html>