Dave Dashaway and His Giant Airship: or, A Marvellous Trip Across the Atlantic

“Most assuredly,” responded the club president.

“His claim is unfounded,” declared the young aviator in a calm, even tone, but with great positiveness. “He is an adventurer, a fraud. He crossed the Atlantic on the steamer Alsatia. The balloon found on the Plymouth coast is a duplicate of the Dictator which he brought along with him, and the original Dictator, after a brief land run, was purposely burned up fifty miles from New York city.”

“Who says so?” shouted Jerry Dawson, getting excitedly to his feet.

“Roger Davidson,” replied the young aviator, simply.

Jerry Dawson grew white to the lips. He foresaw the losing game, but still he blurted out:

“The proofs?”

“Gentlemen,” said Dave, “a cablegram will serve to order an investigation of the ashes of the Dictator. A living witness as to the shipboard experience of this young romancer can be brought to London as soon as our friends are reached.”

“Why, if this is true, the club will be the laughing stock of the world,” observed the president, bending a dark look on Jerry.

“I – I think I’ll go and consult a lawyer about this insulting charge,” ventured Jerry. “Let me out.”

“No, we will kick you out, if this is all true!” shouted an angry director.

“You will remain here,” said the president, firmly. “Your story, sir, the truthful one; or we shall hold you criminally for false representation.”

Jerry was scared. Dave’s resolute face daunted him most of all. He trembled and shivered. By degrees he confessed. He was taken to the office of the club to furnish a signed statement. Then he was turned loose on the streets of London – exit ingloriously Jerry Dawson!

The invalid wanderings of Davidson had supplied his nurse, Elmer Brackett, with a pretty clear history of the plot to impose a duplicate Dictator on the public. While under the influence of a drug, Davidson had fallen from the steamer, and Jerry had thrown a grating after him. Perhaps the hope of securing all the international prize money for himself, had led Jerry to say nothing further about the accident.

There was a great celebration at a noted London hotel the week following. The most humble member of the crew of the Albatross was present.

Money and fame had come to them all. Dave Dashaway was the central figure with the public. Professor Leblance seemed to take most pride in the construction of the Albatross. Young, enterprising, popular, Dave, as the last man at the helm of the ill-fated Albatross, was the real hero of the event.

“Well, lads,” said the happy Professor Leblance across the table to Dave, Hiram and Elmer, “you have now reached so high a notch in aeronautic science that you can go no further.”

“Mistake,” piped up the irrepressible Hiram.

“Oh, yes, a grave mistake, Professor,” insisted young Brackett.

Dave Dashaway only smiled.

“Come, what’s up with you young people?” challenged the good-natured Mr. King.

“Why,” spoke the young aviator, “when we go back home, and you have put that promised quietus on that rascal Vernon, we are going to Elmer’s father and have him build for us a magnificent aeroplane that will beat anything ever before constructed.”

“And the purpose?” inquired old Grimshaw, with a hopeful twinkle in his eye.

“Why,” replied Dave, “our idea is to get up a great international race around the globe.”

“That’s it,” jubilated the veteran airman. “I knew it would be something grand and original.”

“Canada, Alaska, Siberia, Russia – finishing where we began,” explained Dave Dashaway.

“Can it be done?”

“I think so.”

“But the danger – ”

“There was danger in crossing the mighty Atlantic.”

“I know that. But to go around the world. You will meet all sort of strange people and get in many a tight situation, and – ”

“But Dave Dashaway can do it, trust him,” said Mr. Dale, proudly. “He is the son of his father – you can trust him.”

“Oh, you can’t beat Dave,” cried Hiram. “His enemies have tried it, and failed, every time.”

So we leave our young airmen, full of ardor and hope, with their wonderful plans. How the same were carried out in a most remarkable aviation exploit, will be told in a succeeding volume, to be entitled, “Dave Dashaway Around the World; Or, A Young Yankee Aviator Among Many Nations.”

“Only one Dave Dashaway in this world,” said Hiram, to young Brackett.

“The best friend I ever had!” murmured the other. “One boy in a million!”

“Right you are!”

THE END