Dave Dashaway Around the World: or, A Young Yankee Aviator Among Many Nations

Before Mr. Brackett had left them, he had made arrangements to join them at the aero meet at Sylvan Park, near Washington. There were some final details of the journey to arrange for after they reached the aviation field. So far as their present situation was concerned, however, the Comet was all ready for the flight.

The sky was clear, the stars shone brightly and there was a gentle breeze entirely favorable to them, as, about ten o’clock the Comet was quietly rolled out of the hangar. The young airman purposely evaded any publicity as to their start on account of Elmer and his enemies. The two assistants waved them a hearty adieu, but stirred up no commotion. Within five minutes the splendid piece of mechanism was speeding on its way for a point fifty miles distant.

“At Fordham, you said,” remarked Dave, as they settled down to an even course of progress.

“Yes, just beyond the town. We all know the town, it’s right in our course – and I thought that the best place to have Elmer wait for us.”

The Comet passed over half a dozen quaint little villages. Then it followed the railroad tracks, the signal lights operating as guides. They knew Fordham, because they had made several trial spurts to and from the place. They passed its rows of street lights, slowed down, and the Comet reached terra firma inside of the town baseball grounds.

“Hello!” at once hailed them, and Elmer came forward from a seat on the bleachers, where he had been resting. “Everything all right?”

“As a trivet,” pronounced Hiram. “Been a slow wait; eh?”

“Oh, I snoozed a little,” replied Elmer; “lunched some, and had a hard time explaining my being here to a suspicious old watchman who looks after the grounds.”

“Get aboard,” directed Dave, and Elmer sank into the seat with a contented sigh.

“It’s business now, I suppose,” he remarked. “Say, fellows, it’s a big thing we hope to do; isn’t it?”

“Yes,” assented the sprightly Hiram; “and I reckon we’ll have seen some startling sights before we come this way again.”

CHAPTER IV

A MYSTERIOUS VISITOR

Dave Dashaway stood at the entrance to the hangar of the Comet at Sylvan Park. The machine had done nobly on the trial field near the Capitol city. Now it was housed among the group of competitors in the great race. The pick of the world’s best airmen was represented at this international meet, and the scene was one of activity and interest.

The airship boys were comfortably housed in the living tent just beyond the hangar. At first upon arriving it had been decided to have Elmer stay away from the field until the final start was made. This procedure was actuated by the fear that the troublesome Vernon might put in an appearance and continue to annoy and hamper the young airman. The next morning, however, Mr. Brackett arrived.

“I am here for two reasons,” he had announced. “First, I wish to see our last word in biplanes, the Comet, sail off on the race I know you are going to win. Next, I want to be on hand if that troublesome Vernon tries any more of his tricks.”

“I hardly think he will attempt to follow us this far,” was the expressed opinion of our hero. “It would cost him some money, and it would be somewhat dangerous for him to work any trumped-up charge with so many of our airmen friends around to defeat his plans.”

“There is still more than that,” remarked the airship manufacturer, in a confident way.

“What do you mean, father?” inquired his son.

“Just this,” answered Mr. Brackett, “as I left home my lawyer, who was looking up Vernon, put in my possession some documents that will enable me to baffle this wretch at every turn. I only hope he will appear. It will be to receive a final quietus, believe me.”

The big event was now only three days distant. The Comet was in perfect shape for its long flight. The boys had used prevision and judgment in all their preparations; and had not really much to do. Dave, however, was kept pretty busy with a constant stream of visitors. Professional and otherwise, those who had seen descriptions of their splendid machine in the public prints were eager to view that work of mechanical perfection. A group of them were now gathered inside the shelter building. Experts were examining and admiring the Comet.

It pleased Mr. Brackett to exhibit this last masterpiece from the Interstate Aero Company’s factory. As a strictly passenger carrying biplane it had never been equalled. Mr. Brackett showed all its improvements, from the new chain drive apparatus to the high pitch revolution screws. The original model of the Comet had represented a machine weighing over one thousand five hundred pounds with a spread of thirty-eight by sixty-three and one-half feet, pitch speed five thousand six hundred feet, average flight record fifty miles. The old style rear propeller drive had been supplanted by tractor screws. The tubing truss underneath the center section and skid bracing also in the rib or plane section was a new feature. A divergence from the popular headless screw traction design was the use of the Curwell type of outriggers. This did away with an attachment at the end of a monoplane type of fuselage.

It was almost dusk when the visitors began to depart. Dave was giving orders to two of the hangar men to lock up the machine for the night, when an automobile drew rapidly up to the spot. As the young aviator glanced casually at the machine, he saw that besides the chauffeur it contained a veiled, girlish form.

The chauffeur stopped the machine directly before the living tent. He leaped from the auto and approached Mr. Brackett, who was standing near by.

“Can you direct me to the Comet hangar?” he inquired, touching his cap politely.

“This is the place,” explained the manufacturer.

“And Mr. Dave Dashaway – do you know where I can find him?”

The young airman overheard this conversation. He stepped forward at once with the words:

“I am Dave Dashaway. What can I do for you?”

The chauffeur moved aside with a movement of his head towards the automobile. Its occupant leaned slightly forward, and extended a daintily gloved hand. As Dave advanced and lifted his cap she spoke to him in a low, tremulous tone.

“I wish to speak to you for a few moments, Mr. Dashaway,” she said. “In private,” she added, with a glance at the several persons in view.

“Certainly,” responded Dave readily, but in some wonderment. “There is our office, miss. May I assist you?”

The little lady uttered a fluttering sigh as our hero helped her from the machine and led the way to the living tent. Hiram had just lighted a lamp. Both he and Elmer regarded their friend’s companion in some surprise. They were too well bred, however, to stare at the newcomer, who seemed timid and uncertain. The boys moved quietly from the tent, Dave set a stool for his visitor and seated himself at a little distance, awaiting her pleasure.

“You must not think it strange that I have come to you, Mr. Dashaway,” she said. “I – that is, I was directed to you by a very close friend, who knows you well.”

“Ah, indeed?” spoke the young airman.

“Yes, I bring you a letter from a friend of my dear father, who is as well a close friend of your own – Mr. Robert King.”

“I am pleased and interested at once, Miss,” said Dave, trying to set the young lady at her ease under such strange surroundings. “Mr. King is, indeed, a close friend, and his friends are very welcome.”

“You are most kind,” said the visitor, nervously searching for the letter in question, and in her confusion lifting her veil. From her face Dave saw that she was about his own age. There was an anxious look in her eyes. She finally found the letter, and handed it to the young airman with the explanation:

“We went to Mr. King where he is sick at his home in New York City.”

“Yes, I know,” said Dave. “He wrote me only last week.”

“I am Edna Deane,” proceeded the young lady. “My father is himself something of an invalid and could not come with me to-day. We went to Mr. King to ask his help in a case where he only, or somebody like him, could be of any assistance.”

“You mean in the aviation way?” inquired Dave, getting interested.

“Yes, Mr. Dashaway,” replied the young girl. “I want my father to explain to you about it. He has written our address on the envelope – Hampton Flats. He wishes to have you make an appointment to meet him, if you will be so kind.”

“I certainly shall be glad to be of service to any friends of the gentleman who taught me all I know about sky sailing,” began Dave, and then he added very heartily: “Surely I will come, Miss Deane. To-morrow morning, if you wish. Shall we say at ten o’clock? I have some few things to attend to that will take up my time until then.”

“My father will be very glad,” murmured the girl, gratefully.

A glance at the letter from the veteran aviator, Mr. King, had at once influenced Dave. The old airman wrote briefly, but to the point. He stated, that were he in shape to do so, he would at once assist Mr. Deane. He asked his former assistant to act in his place, could he at all arrange to do so. Mr. King hinted that there was an opportunity for a great humane act. He said he was sure that when Dave knew its details, his generous heart would respond to an unusual appeal for help in a strangely pathetic case.

Meantime Hiram and Elmer had strolled to a distance. They passed Mr. Brackett, who was seeing to it that the hangar men safely housed his pet biplane for the night. Hiram looked curiously at his companion.

“Well,” he observed, “sort of mysterious, Elmer; eh?”

“You mean that young lady?”

“I do. Automobile – mysterious veiled visitor,” said Hiram with a smile.

“Maybe it’s another of those venturesome college girls wanting to make a flight for the name of it. Dave will tell us when he sees us. No nonsense about him. He’s too busy for romance.”

“That’s so. There she goes, Elmer,” announced Hiram.

The boys made out Dave, cap in hand, walking beside the automobile as it started up slowly, and conversing with its occupant. Then, curious and eager to learn the merits of the interesting episode, they proceeded towards the living tent, approaching it by a roundabout route so as not to look as if they were “snooping around,” as Hiram put it.

Just as they neared it, Elmer grasped the arm of his companion, bringing him to a halt with a startling: “S – st!”

“What is it?” demanded Hiram, staring ahead in the direction in which the glance of his companion was fixed.

“Look for yourself,” whispered back Elmer, pointing to a crouching figure just behind the tent. “See – a man, a lurker, a spy! Who do you suppose he is; and what is he up to?”

CHAPTER V

SOMETHING WRONG

The boys stood perfectly still. The crouching man had not heard them coming nor did he see them now. He half rested on one elbow and one knee, close up to the end of the tent. It looked as if he had been posted there for some time, as if peering into the tent through some break in the canvas and listening to what had been spoken inside.

Just now he was guardedly looking past the corner of the tent and following Dave and the automobile with his eyes. It was fast getting dark, but the glint of the headlight of the auto as it turned towards the entrance to the grounds swept over him, and Elmer gave a great start.

“Why,” he spoke suddenly, “Hiram, it’s that man – Vernon!”

“You don’t say so,” returned Hiram. “Are you sure of it?”

“Yes, I am,” declared Elmer, in a disturbed way. “He is after me again, and may make all kinds of new trouble for us.”

“He won’t,” asserted Hiram, with a quick snap of his lips, and the old farmer-boy fight and determination in his face. “Get ready to help me.”

“What are you going to do?” inquired Elmer, as his companion began to roll up his coat cuffs.

“I’m going to nail that fellow, good and sure,” pronounced Hiram. “Maybe your father would like to see him. Now then!”

Hiram made a spring. He landed on the shoulders of the crouching figure, Elmer close at his heels. The unsuspecting spy went flat, the nimble Hiram astride of him.

“What are you up to, and who are you?” demanded Hiram. “You needn’t tell,” he added swiftly, as his prisoner squirmed about and his face came into view. “You’re that mean rascal Vernon, and we’re going to know what you are plotting this time before we let you go. Grab him, Elmer.”

Each seized an arm of the squirming captive. Hiram arose to his feet without letting Vernon go, although the latter struggled fiercely. He managed to break the grasp of Elmer, but Hiram held on to him – would have held on to him if he had dragged him all over the field.

“What’s this?” cried Mr. Brackett, attracted to the spot by the noise of the struggle. Then he recognized Vernon. “Ah, it’s you is it?” he said, bending his brows at the prisoner. “I have something to say to you,” and he seized the man by his coat collar and assisted Hiram in dragging him around to the front of the tent.

“Oh, you have?” sneered Vernon, ceasing to struggle as he found his efforts in that direction vain. “Well, you want to say it quick and short.”

“What are you doing around here?” demanded the aeroplane manufacturer, sternly.

“What do you suppose?” retorted the schemer boldly, thinking brag and bluster only would serve him now. “I’m in the market with information, and you had better buy it.”

“You sit there,” ordered Mr. Brackett, forcing the miscreant upon a stool with the gesture of disgust. Then he motioned to Hiram and Elmer to guard the doorway and sat down facing the captive. “You have gone to the last length, my man, in persecuting my son. There is not a vestige of accusation against him that you can press legally.”

“Oh, I think I can make you a little uneasy,” boasted the conscienceless one.

“We shall see. It is only a few days since my lawyer reported to me the facts of an investigation into your career. I have a few questions to ask you. After that, I fancy you will be glad to get away from us and stay away in the future.”

“Oh, is that so?” said Vernon, coldly.

“My lawyer has placed certain documents and information in my hands,” continued Mr. Brackett. “One of them,” and he reached into his pocket and produced a photograph, “is a picture of a man who served a prison term. Do you recognize it?” and the speaker held up the photograph full in the lamp light.

Vernon changed color. He quaked and wriggled about, but he was silent, for it was his own portrait, in prison garb.

“How far the word of a convict will go against that of my son, whom you duped into signing notes he could not pay, and which I will never pay, for no consideration was involved, I do not know,” proceeded the aeroplane manufacturer. “I do know, however, that you dare not make another move. This document,” and he showed a folded paper, “describes you as the man who is wanted in Boston for forfeiting a bail bond. I have only to send word to the authorities there of your whereabouts to have you shut up for some time to come. Now go. If I so much as hear of your hanging around this vicinity, I will telegraph to the people who are searching for you.”

Mr. Brackett pointed to the doorway. Vernon arose and like a whipped cur slunk through it. An expression of relief crossed Elmer Brackett’s face.

“I only hope we are rid of him for good,” he said, fervently.

“There seems to be no doubt of that,” declared Hiram, with a satisfied smile. “Say, though, I wonder why he was sneaking around the hangar here?”

“To pick up what information he could about our plans, to disturb them if he could, I suppose,” said Elmer.

Just then Dave appeared. His friends noticed that he was somewhat thoughtful. No one alluded to the visit of the girl whom the young aviator had just escorted to the automobile. Dave did not seem to have any explanations to make. The others told him about the discovery of Vernon and his summary disappearance. Then the incident was dismissed from their minds as they all went over to the restaurant at the other end of the big aviation grounds for supper.

Dave told his young assistants that he had an engagement in the city the next morning. There were some little purchases to make for the Comet, and he took Hiram along with him.

“I am going to call upon the friends of the young lady you saw last evening, Hiram,” he confided to his friend. “They live at the Hampton Flats,” and he gave Hiram the location. “If you like, after you get through with your shopping you can call there for me. Then we can go back to the park together.”

“All right,” assented Hiram, “I shan’t be busy for more than an hour.”

It was about eleven o’clock when Hiram started for the Hampton Flats. He finally turned into the street where the building was located. As he neared it, a man came hurriedly down its steps, passed down the street, and disappeared from view around the corner.

“Well, I’ll be bumped!” exclaimed Hiram, forcibly.

He came to a dead stop, irresolute as to the course he ought to pursue. Hiram had recognized the man as Vernon. He wondered how the rascal came to be in the building where his airman friend was.

“Why, he’s nagging Dave, that’s sure,” declared Hiram. “But why? It won’t do any good to run after him. I must tell Dave about it, though, and – there he is now.”

The young aviator appeared at just that moment. He looked up and down the street and then advanced towards Hiram as he made him out. The latter fancied he had never seen Dave look so grave and thoughtful, but our hero roused up into instant interest as Hiram said:

“I saw Vernon come out of that building just before you did.”

“What’s that!” challenged Dave. “Out of that building?”

“Yes, he did, Dave. Now what do you suppose he was doing there?”

The young airman did not reply. He walked along in silence. Hiram saw that he was a good deal stirred up, but all Dave said about the incident was:

“I’m glad you discovered this, Hiram, and told me about it. We want to look out for that fellow.”

All that day, Hiram noticed that the pilot of the Comet seemed to be preoccupied. The hum and bustle of the approaching event, however, took up the attention of all hands. They had a busy day of it, and Hiram was so tired out by nightfall that he had well-nigh forgotten all about the unexplained incident of the earlier hours of the day.

Just after daylight the next morning Elmer stirred on his sleeping cot and drowsily cried out:

“What’s up? I thought I heard some one call for Dave.”

“You did,” replied Hiram, jumping from under the bedclothes. “I just roused up to see one of the hangar men scurrying out of here, and Dave, half dressed, rushing after him. Hurry up, get your clothes on.”

“What for?” inquired Elmer, sitting up in his cot and rubbing his eyes sleepily.

“Because I caught a remark the hangar man made.”

“What was it?”

“‘Something wrong with the Comet!’”

CHAPTER VI

THE STOLEN BIPLANE

The alarming words spoken by Hiram were sufficient to at once bring Elmer out of bed and onto his feet. Speedy as Elmer was, however, Hiram was outside, shoeless and hatless, almost before his drowsy companion had drawn on his sweater.

“What’s the trouble?” panted Elmer, trailing after his companion a minute later.

His eyes grew big with wonder and suspense as he noticed Dave and the hangar man running around to the rear of the portable biplane shelter. In front he saw Hiram posed like a statue and staring hard.

“The Comet is gone!” announced Hiram. “Look there – gone!”

He spoke in a tone of voice as if the whole world was slipping away from them. Elmer, gaining his side, saw that the hangar was empty.

“Oh, say!” he gasped, “you don’t mean to say – ”

“Stolen? Yes! That is sure,” came in Dave’s tones, and the young aviator hurried around to the spot.

“You see, whoever took it drew the steel frames and canvas out of the whole back,” the hangar man was explaining. “The wheel marks yonder run about twenty feet. Whoever did it knew his business. There was no wasted fooling around – up and away was the programme.”

Dave stood silent, thinking hard. Elmer came up to him, worried and anxious. By this time Hiram had got full steam of excitement on.

“See here, Dave,” he cried, “what is this – a trick, or something serious?”

“It’s pretty serious,” answered the young airman. “Whoever ran away with the Comet had a bad motive in view – I feel certain of that.”

“You mean, to keep us from making the start in the race?” inquired Elmer, anxiously.

“Just that,” assented Dave, positively. “No ordinary thief would steal the biplane, for he couldn’t sell it. Professionals do not meddle with other people’s machines. I’ve got a lot of suspicions about this mysterious piece of business, but there’s no time to lose in theorizing.”

“No, we must get on the track of the Comet right away,” declared Hiram, adding, “but how?”

Dave gave a few rapid, undertoned directions to the hangar man. Then he hurried back to the living tent, followed by his friends, and all completed dressing. Then, Dave piloting the way, they made a brisk run for the office building of the club in control of the meet.

The young airman was lucky in running across the manager, a man who knew his business thoroughly. Inside of an hour, with his perfect knowledge of details, he had telegraphed every aviator and practice station in the East to be on the watch for the stolen machine. Dave was leaving the office building when they met Mr. Brackett.

“Oh, father!” exclaimed his son, in distress, “the Comet has been stolen!”

The aeroplane manufacturer was stunned by the announcement. Dave motioned him instantly to one side. Hiram’s heart took hope as he noted the business-like look on Dave’s face.

“He’s got some plan worked out already,” announced Hiram to Elmer. “Dave isn’t telling us all he has guessed out.”

Whatever information the young airman was imparting to Mr. Brackett, the latter seemed greatly interested, and his troubled face cleared somewhat as Dave proceeded. Soon the manufacturer hurried away. Dave consulted his watch and came briskly up to his young fellow aviators.

“There’s just time to get our breakfast,” he announced.

The boys had about completed the meal, when an automobile drove up in front of the restaurant and the aeroplane manufacturer got out. Dave hurried to his side. There was a brief consultation, and our hero beckoned to his friends.

“You had better come with me, Hiram,” said the young aviator; “I shall need you. If you will keep track of things around the hangar, Elmer, it will help out.”

Dave waved his hand to the manufacturer and his son, and told Hiram to jump into the seat beside him. They made a quick spin for the office of the manager. The young airman came out with several telegrams in his hand. He read these over carefully while his companion was cranking the machine. Then he thrust them into his pocket and took charge of the wheel.

“Say,” began Hiram, as they left the aero grounds and started down a lonely country road; “tell me are you going on a hunt for the Comet?”

“Yes,” replied the young airman. “I don’t know that there is much chance of running down the people who stole the biplane, but they can’t sail far without being reported.”

“What is their object in stealing it, anyhow?” asked Hiram.

“If you want my honest opinion, I think they are trying to keep us out of the race,” replied Dave.

“Oh!” exclaimed his companion, “then you think it’s professionals who are at the bottom of this mischief?”

“It was certainly an expert airman who piloted the Comet away so snugly,” declared Dave. “I believe, though, that he was hired by others.”

“Why, Dave, what do you mean?” inquired the puzzled Hiram.

“I can’t explain everything to you just now,” replied Dave. “I am not trying to throw any air of mystery about this strange disappearance of the Comet, but you remember telling me about seeing that schemer, Vernon, come out of the Hampton Flats in the city?”

“Why, yes,” assented Hiram, with a start of enlightenment.

“Well, I have reason to believe that he is mixed up with this affair.”

“You don’t say so! Bound to bother the Bracketts to the last limit, is he?”