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

The young aviator comprehended the situation at once. He had read and heard of these North Carolina outlaws and their family feuds, sometimes running through half a dozen generations.

“How can we help you?” he said to the woman.

“It isn’t safe for us anywhere around here,” she declared. “I must get to my husband.”

“At Brambly Fork, you mean?”

“Yes, that’s where he is, and his crowd.”

“Is it far from here?”

“About fifteen miles. He ought to know about the MacGuffins, so as to drive them away before they steal our cattle and crops. I can manage to get along with the baby, but the little girl is ready to drop down from tiredness. See, oh, hide! hide! They are coming this way!”

Among the trees beyond the clearing the boys could see men with torches and armed with rifles coming in their direction.

“They are going to fire our house next!” cried the woman, bursting into tears.

“I am afraid it would be foolish for us to try and prevent them,” remarked Dave. “They are armed and in a dangerous mood.”

“You would simply risk your lives.”

The young aviator snatched up the little girl in his arms.

“Help the lady, Hiram,” he directed, “and follow me.”

Dave led the way to a thick copse. The woman told the little girl to keep perfectly quiet. In a few minutes the men they had seen passed by without discovering them.

“I must get to my husband at once,” said the woman, eagerly, as soon as the horde of raiders was out of sight and hearing.

“You can’t go alone,” observed Dave. “Here, we will go with you. Take turns at carrying the little girl, Hiram.”

The woman sobbed out her heartfelt gratitude. Then Dave questioned her as to the direction of Brambly Fork, and all were soon on the way.

“This isn’t looking for Mr. King, Dave,” suggested Hiram, after awhile.

“Mr. King will take care of himself, Hiram,” replied the young aviator.

“Yes, but neither is this looking for a town where we might get that quicksilver.”

“It’s on the way to it, isn’t it? When we get to the place where this woman’s husband is, some of the crowd can direct us to the nearest settlement, that is sure.”

It was pretty hard traveling, after a day of heavy tramping. The forlorn condition of the woman, however, appealed to both the boys.

“We are very near Brambly Fork now,” spoke the woman at the end of four hours, during which time they had rested frequently. “Another turn in the valley and we will be there.”

“Sure enough!” cried Hiram with animation.

They had come upon a spot well shut in on three sides with trees. A big campfire was burning, and near it were gathered a dozen or more men. Their interest was centered on a man who stood with his arms bound behind him.

“Why,” cried Dave, “it’s Mr. King!”

CHAPTER XVI

IN FRIENDLY HANDS

The young aviator did not delay for a single instant. So precipitately did he start for the group about the tree, that he fairly knocked Hiram off his footing.

“The mischief!” gasped the latter, righting himself and staring aghast at the scene a little distance ahead of them.

“Stop! stop!” shouted Dave at the top of his voice, as he dashed across the open stretch, and momentarily came nearer and nearer to the men who surrounded the airmen.

Dave had a right to be urgent, for two men had seized hold of Mr. King as if to handle him roughly.

Three rifles were aimed at Dave as he fearlessly ran up to the group. One of the party, evidently the leader, stared at our hero as he came to a halt, with a suspicious and threatening scowl.

“Hello,” he challenged, “another one? Why, strangers are getting thick as bees in swarming time.”

“It’s another detective,” growled a man by his side.

Dave faced the fierce-visaged, reckless-mannered mob, all alive with anxiety and excitement.

“You must not harm that man,” he declared, dauntlessly.

“Know him, do you?” inquired the leader, with a sinister look.

“I should say I did. There’s some mistake.”

“Who is he?”

“He is Mr. Robert King, the great aviator.”

“H’m that’s what he said, but we don’t believe him,” retorted the leader. “Look at that badge on him.”

“Why, that is a trophy from an aero club,” explained Dave. “Read what it says, and you’ll see that I am telling the truth.”

“Say, sonny,” observed the man, with a derisive laugh, “there ain’t any schoolhouses in this district, and none of us know how to read. Now then, who are you, and where did you come from?”

“I am in the same line as Mr. King,” replied Dave; “and I came from the spot where our airship landed.”

“How did you find us?”

“Oh, yes,” said Dave, quickly. “I ran across the MacGuffins. They were making a raid, and – ”

If the young aviator had thrown a firebrand among the group he could not have caused more excitement. At the mention of that dread name, “the MacGuffins,” it seemed as though the men before him uttered a fearful roar of hatred and rage. The leader sprang forward and grasped Dave’s arm.

“Don’t you fool me!” he shouted. “Where did you run across the MacGuffins?”

“About fifteen miles north of here. They were burning houses, and – ”

Dave was interrupted by a cry. It proceeded from the woman he and Hiram had helped. She appeared now upon the scene carrying her babe, and Hiram following with the little girl in his arms.

“Jared!” cried the woman, and then Dave knew that the leader of the outlaw band was her husband. The man stared at her in bewilderment.

“Nance,” he spoke in a husky voice, “what does it mean, you being here?”

“Oh, Jared, the MacGuffins!” she wailed. “They have burned us out! If it wasn’t for these two brave boys, we might all have been killed! They hid us and helped me get here with the children.”

“You did this?” spoke the man in a choked-up tone, turning to the young aviator. “And that fellow is your friend?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Set him free,” ordered the man with a wave of his hand towards Mr. King. “As to you, young man, you’ve made some friends, let me tell you.”

Dave and Hiram hurried eagerly to the spot where two of the band began immediately to liberate Mr. King, who had looked worn and worried. A glad smile of relief now covered his face.

“You came just in the nick of time,” he told his two young friends.

“It looks so,” said Hiram, seriously.

“There’s a bad nest of them,” cautioned the airman. “I never met such stubborn, unreasonable beings. They seem to have two objects in life – to fight each other and dodge revenue officers.”

“Regular outlaws, aren’t they?” queried Hiram.

“Yes, and with little idea of the value of human life.”

The band grouped together about the woman, who was reciting the incidents of the raid of the MacGuffins. Wild shouts and threats followed her story. The party split up, and half of them ran to a thicket, to reappear with horses.

At a word from the leader they set off in the direction the refugees had just come from. Then the man approached the airman and his companions.

“We’re rough fellows, maybe,” he said, “but we stick like glue to a friend. You two young fellows saved my Nance and the babies. There isn’t much we fellows wouldn’t do for you in return.”

“Well, you can probably help us out a good deal if you want to,” replied Dave promptly.

“Just name how, son.”

“Mr. King has told you how we are balloonists. We need some quicksilver, and the three of us had started out to locate some town where we could get the article.”

“Quicksilver, eh?” repeated the outlaw, as though dubious and puzzled. “Where would you be likely to get it now?”

“Most hardware or drug stores keep it,” explained Dave.

“Nothing else you need?”

“No, only to return to our balloon when we get the quicksilver.”

“Hi!” shouted the man, beckoning to two of his men. “Mount and make a quick run for Forestville. How much quicksilver do you want?”

“It comes in iron tubes,” explained the airman. “One will answer. If they keep it in some other form, about thirty ounces.”

“Get back soon as you can,” the outlaw ordered his messengers. “If the places are shut, shoot up the town and get some action on the case.”

The speaker turned and proceeded to where a tent stood. In a little while he reappeared to say to his guests that they must be hungry and to follow him.

Seated on rude home-made camp stools, the three friends enjoyed a meal of corn pone, sweet potatoes and wild turkey, all cooked to a turn. Then their host threw some blankets on the ground outside. He invited them to be seated, and for over an hour asked question after question regarding their wonderful airship and the great world beyond the wilderness of which he knew so little.

“We’re perfectly safe to sleep here,” remarked Mr. King, as the man left them finally.

“More than safe,” declared Dave. “These people would protect us with their lives, the way they feel about us.”

The wayfarers were pretty well tired out. All three were soon asleep. It must have been two hours later when Dave felt himself roughly shaken. The outlaw leader and two others were standing near, staring up into the sky in an awed, puzzled way.

“What’s that?” asked the outlaw leader of the young aviator. “It’s strange to us, and I thought you’d know.”

Across the sky in the direction of the airship a broad sweeping pencil of light swept the heavens from zenith to horizon, and back again.

“Ah, that?” said Dave; “it’s the great searchlight of the Albatross.”

CHAPTER XVII

A TRUSTY GUIDE

The young aviator had to do some explaining for the benefit of the outlaw leader before the latter could understand what a searchlight was.

“Reckon there’s no spot safe for a free and easy fellow with all these new-fangled contrivances,” remarked the man.

“I’d like to see that balloon, all the same,” observed one of his band.

“We’d better keep close to the safety line,” advised the leader. “There’s a good deal of hubbub around, and we’d better watch out for the MacGuffins.”

It was an hour later when the two men sent to Forestville came galloping back into camp. They were hot, tired and dusty. Their steeds were reeking, and dropped their heads in an exhausted way as their riders drove up to the campfire and dismounted.

“Did you get the stuff?” inquired the leader.

“That’s what you sent us for, wasn’t it?” queried one of the horsemen. “Well, there it is,” and he handed out a package.

“We had some trouble making the drug clerk understand how badly and quickly we needed it,” remarked the other horseman, with a chuckle. “When we told him that Forestville would be off the map in a few days if he didn’t act lively, he produced results double quick.”

Mr. King examined the package. It contained two large glass tubes filled with quicksilver. He thanked the men heartily. His hand went to his pocket and his purse was half withdrawn to offer a reward, when he noted a warning flash in the eyes of the leader.

“Don’t try to pay for what money wouldn’t get you if you weren’t friends,” said the man, tersely.

“We are anxious to get back to the airship,” suggested the airman.

“Want to start right away?”

“Yes, if possible.”

“That searchlight signal will guide you?”

“Oh, surely. Besides, I think we could find our way without its aid.”

“Maybe. Just the same, I’ll go with you as far as the gap. That’s hard to cross unless you know it pretty well, or hit a trail by accident, as you seem to have done in getting here. Hi, there, saddle up four fresh horses,” ordered the speaker to one of his men.

“This is pretty fine treatment,” declared the young aviator, as his friends and himself found themselves in the saddle and the outlaw leader piloting the way from the camp.

“It will take my wife a long time to forget all we owe you,” the leader remarked more than once.

At the end of two hours’ travel, the latter stages of which were taken through dark and sinuous windings along a densely-verdured ravine, their pilot ascended a long slope.

“There’s your searchlight still going,” he said, pointing to the broad waving flare in the sky. “I dare not go any farther with you for two reasons,” he explained. “In the first place I’m over what we call the safety line. In the next place I want to get back in time to start a daylight hunt after those MacGuffins.”

“I feel sure we can find our way to the Albatross now,” said the young aviator.

“Say, that was a queer adventure, wasn’t it now?” spoke Hiram, as their recent guide waved his hand in a friendly way and disappeared like a flash back the route they had come.

“These rough fellows are true blue when you touch the right spot,” declared the airman. “We seem to be on higher level ground than before. Let us get along as fast as we can, so we can send the horses back.”

The outlaw leader had insisted that they retain the steeds. He had instructed them to simply head them back homewards when they were through with them.

“Don’t fret,” he had said, confidently, “they’ll be sure to find the camp feeding trough before breakfast time.”

“This has been quite an adventure, as you say, Hiram,” remarked Mr. King, as they trotted single file on account of the narrow course.

“With probably a lot more of it waiting us along the line,” added Dave.

“Yes,” assented Hiram, “I can guess it will be pretty lively if we cross the Atlantic. Say, we’re getting near to the Albatross.”

This was apparent from the clearer radiance from the searchlight glow. They rode on about two miles further.

“We can do the rest on foot, I fancy,” said Mr. King.

The party dismounted, arranged the bridles so they would not trail, turned the heads of the horses homewards for them, and, giving each a slap on the flanks, watched them dart away, rapidly.

The searchlight faded out before they had proceeded a mile. In fact, day was breaking. The sun came up as they reached the bottom of a high hill.

“I remember this spot,” said the young aviator.

“Yes, we left the camp this way,” agreed Mr. King, casting a look about and recognizing some landmarks.

“I suppose Professor Leblance has been mighty anxious about us,” said Hiram. “I’ll have a great story to tell Mr. Grimshaw.”

Despite the arduous rigors of their all-day tramp and all-night adventures, Dave and Hiram felt fresh and ambitious.

“We’re pretty near the top,” spoke the young aviator. “I’ll race you to see who arrives first.”

“All right,” agreed Hiram. “Here we go.”

Dave showed the most endurance. He reached the summit, paused and waved his hand triumphantly at his toiling rival.

“Hold on,” called Hiram. “Wait for Mr. King.”

“I’ll take a look first,” answered Dave.

The young aviator climbed over a low ledge of boulders. Beyond them was a fringe of high bushes. Dave knew that, these passed, the Albatross would be in view.

He pressed his way through the bushes and cleared the last obstruction at a leap. Then the young aviator took one look, uttered a dismayed cry, and fairly dived back in among the undergrowth, startled beyond expression.

CHAPTER XVIII

IN A BAD FIX

“Keep back!” shouted the young aviator.

He accompanied the words with a spring and a roll that took him through and past the fringe of bushes and brought him directly against Hiram.

“Hold on, I say. The mischief!” blurted out Hiram, tipped clear off his balance.

“Hush!” warned Dave, regaining his feet. “Don’t go ahead, don’t make any disturbance. Stop Mr. King.”

Dave spoke the words in a hurried and urgent tone. Then, cautiously, he crept on all fours through the shrubbery. He took a second more comprehensive look over the plateau. Then he worked his way back to the bewildered Hiram.

“See here, Dave Dashaway,” challenged the latter, “you’re acting mighty strange.”

“What’s the trouble here?” inquired Mr. King, coming up to the boys, pursuant to mysterious gestures from Hiram.

“It is trouble, I am very much afraid,” replied Dave, seriously.

“What do you mean – about the airship?”

“Yes, Mr. King. The Albatross seems to be all right, but about twenty men, all armed with guns, have our entire party cornered near some rocks.”

“You don’t say so!” cried the airman. “Let me have a look.”

“Be careful, then,” advised Dave. “It looks to me as if another band of these wild outlaws probably traced the searchlight, and have managed to catch our friends away from the airship. Anyway, our folks are helpless, and the strangers look fierce and dangerous.”

All three of the adventurers crept through the fringe of underbrush and took a look across the plateau. They found the situation as Dave had described it to be. The strangers held Professor Leblance, Mr. Dale, Grimshaw and the others at bay. A big, rough-looking fellow, evidently the leader of the band, was talking animatedly to the Frenchman. The others of the intruders held their rifles in a way that threatened an attack if the captives showed any resistance.

“They may be the MacGuffins,” whispered Hiram, intensely wrought up with excitement.

“I shouldn’t wonder,” said Dave. “Mr. King, let us try to get nearer to them.”

“Yes, we may learn what is going on and give our friends some help, if they need it,” replied the airman.

They had to cover half a mile in a cautious detour. This finally brought them to a thicket not thirty feet distant from their friends and enemies. Mr. King lay flat on the ground behind some high bushes, and his companions followed his example. Dave bent his ear keenly, to catch what the leader of the invading party was saying.

“That don’t go with me,” the man said. “How do we know that you ain’t here to spy on us? We fine trespassers here and we charge rent for the use of our property.”

“You must own the whole state, you fellows must,” snapped out Grimshaw.

“We run this district, if you want to know it,” retorted the outlaw. “Usually we just string up spies.”

“But we are no spies,” declared the professor, earnestly.

“We don’t take your word for that. Come, you’ve got to pay your reckoning. You scrape us up as much as two hundred dollars among you, or – ”

The speaker waved his hand significantly in the direction of the Albatross.

“Yes,” growled one of his fellows. “It wouldn’t take us long to make a sieve of that contrivance.”

“I resent this outrage!” cried the Frenchman, hotly. “We are under international protection. Our mission is in the interests of science. If you interfere with us, you will rouse the entire community. It will be the worse for you.”

“Hear him, boys,” rallied the outlaw leader. “Say, stranger, who’s going to tell what we did or didn’t do to you, hey?”

The speaker grinned in a cold-blooded way that made Hiram Dobbs shiver.

“Say, Mr. King,” he whispered hoarsely, “shoot them.”

“One gun against twenty wouldn’t count for much,” responded the airman, with a shake of his head.

“I will pay no ransom, I will give you not one cent of blackmail,” declared the doughty Frenchman, thoroughly indignant.

“All right, then we will ransack your old gas bag and take what we want,” boasted the outlaw.

“I warn you,” cried the professor. “The airship is one mass of devices you do not understand. You may find trouble.”

“What do you bother with him for?” cried the man beside the last speaker. “We’ll cover the rest of the crowd. You make him take you over the machine and get what’s lying around loose.”

“Can’t we do something, Mr. King?” inquired the young aviator, in an anxious tone.

“I fear not, Dashaway,” was the reply. “These are desperate men and bound to have their own way. We can only hope that our being free will help our friends somewhere along the line.”

“You come with me,” ordered the outlaw leader, roughly seizing Professor Leblance by the arm and pulling him along. “Keep your eyes on those others,” he added, to his men.

The Frenchman held back with resolute face and force. The outlaw, however, was a great, bulky fellow of enormous strength.

They had proceeded less than twenty feet towards the airship, when a quick word cut the air, clear and startling as a pistol shot.

“Halt!”

CHAPTER XIX

A MYSTERIOUS FRIEND

In an instant of time the whole complexion of affairs had changed. The young aviator and his two companions crouched, staring at the scene before them, which now seemed the stage setting to some intense drama.

“Hello!” gasped the excitable Hiram.

“What does that mean?” echoed Mr. King, in a truly astonished way.

Dave was quite as fully amazed and puzzled. Suddenly and unexpectedly a form had sprung into view just beyond one of the floats of the Albatross. It was that of a lithe person, young and energetic. To all appearance he was a negro, for hands and face at that distance were of seeming ebony hue.

This extraordinary person, a stranger to all who looked upon him, held leveled a short but heavy rifle. At once the watchers from the underbrush recognized it as one of several weapons provided for the arsenal of the giant airship before the Albatross had left Croydon.

“It’s the magazine rifle Mr. Dale showed us!” exclaimed Hiram. “Who’s the fellow holding it, and how did he get it?”

“Who is he, indeed?” murmured the airman, staring hard at the person who had so startlingly pronounced that mandatory word – “Halt!”

The outlaw leader had come to a dead stop. He dropped the arm of the professor, who took in this last strange incident of the moment in a very bewildered way.

“Stand still or I will fire,” rang out now in clear, vibrant tones.

Those of the band guarding the rest of the crew of the Albatross stood mute and staring, taken aback by the determined and threatening attitude of the person near the balloon.

“If one of your men so much as raises a weapon, I will shoot,” came floating distinctly on the still mountain air. “I hold a magazine rifle in my hand loaded for one hundred rounds, that will shoot eighty times in a minute. Order your men to put down their guns.”

The outlaw leader hesitated. Bang! ten times in incredibly rapid succession at a light pressure the formidable magazine rifle rang out, aimed, however, at the boughs of a nearby tree, some of the leaves of which fell in scraps and ribbands under the destructive effect of the powerful fusillade.

“One, two, three – I can pick them off before they can raise a trigger!” shouted the sable champion of the airship crew. “I’ll do it, too, if that order is not given double-quick.”

The outlaw leader quailed. Then he turned and made a sign to his men. The last one of them placed his gun on the ground.

“March,” came the inflexible order. “Down that path to the left, so we can keep you in view. You will find your weapons safe when you return and we are gone. Go!”

The menace of the powerful magazine rifle cowed the outlaw gang. The breathless spectators from the brush saw them join their leader unarmed, take the path as directed, and file away from the plateau.

The person who had so marvellously accomplished all this never lowered his weapon. Still holding it ready for instant use, he walked over to where a ledge of rocks rose like a sentinel tower above the level of the plateau. There posting himself, he held the discomfited retreating foe in constant sight. He swung his hand towards the stupefied crew of the airship. He spoke some order or suggestion to them that Dave did not overhear. The party, however, at once possessed themselves of some of the abandoned rifles of the outlaws and stood ready for attack and defence.

Mr. King arose and hurried over to where Professor Leblance stood, and Dave and Hiram followed him.

“Professor!” cried the airman. “Here are some strange happenings. Who is that person – not one of the crew?”

“I never saw him before,” replied the dazed Frenchman. “He has saved us.”

“And the Albatross. We have the quicksilver. This is a dangerous ruffian-infested district. Let us leave as soon as possible.”

“Yes, yes,” said the Frenchman, in a hurried tone. “After what has happened we cannot be too quickly nor fast on our way.”

The animated engineer of the Albatross bustled about into immediate action. He ordered two of his men to join their rescuer on the rocks. All the others were impressed into service in assisting to get the giant airship ready for a new and longer flight.