AN INVOLUNTARY PASSENGER
Dave Dashaway’s assistant knew his business too well to attempt any rash
or reckless change in the course of the biplane. At a glance Hiram had
taken in the situation. In a flash he gave the right order.
“Help him—pull him in,” he directed.
“Yes, he’ll smash the wing and we’ll all go down in a heap if he hangs
on there,” declared Elmer, quickly.
“Let me off! Let me off!” puffed and panted the constable. “Help! I’ll
drop! Murder! I’m a goner!”
“Easy, officer!” cried out Hiram, in his clear, ringing tones. “Don’t
get rattled or you’ll be gone, indeed.”
Elmer had grasped the arm of the clinging man. He had strapped himself
into his seat, and this position assisted in giving him a tugging
strength that counted for something. The white, scared face of the
constable came nearer and nearer to him. Through great efforts the
trespasser was hauled up over his center of balance, and he tumbled into
the vacant seat all in a heap.
“Let down this balloon! I’ve got a warrant,” began the constable,
breathlessly—“oogh!”
A whirl of the biplane sent the man banging against the side of the seat
till his teeth rattled.
“Strap him in,” called out Hiram, “if he don’t want to get a spill.”
“Oh, my! Stop! Please stop! Let me out!”
Meantime Elmer had snapped the belt in place. It was well that he had
acted speedily. The _Comet_ made a switch just there which caused the
involuntary passenger to tremble with terror, yell outright, and crouch
back in his seat.
Hiram directed a smooth volplane and made an even spurt of speed on a
set level. This gave the intruder a chance to steady his nerves and
regain his breath. He was still, however, big-eyed and chattering. The
young pilot dared not direct attention from his task of running the
machine, but he managed to turn his face sideways so as to give Elmer a
significant glance. The latter half smiled as he understood what was on
the programme.
“Now, see here, officer,” spoke Hiram, past his shoulder, “I can’t give
you any further attention than to tell you what to do. If the machine
tips——”
“Is there danger?” gasped the overcome constable. “Say, please go down!
Easy, you know! P-please-p—please!”
“You had better show some sense,” retorted Hiram, with pretended
sternness. “There is always danger of a spill. Don’t help it any.”
“N-no, I won’t,” chattered the officer. “I—I’ll do just what you tell
me.”
“Then sit still and keep still. Elmer, get him into that airman armor.
He’s pretty bulky, and if we take a flop——”
“Br-rr-r!” shivered the unfortunate passenger. “Oh, don’t talk about
it!”
“Get the aerodrome safety helmet on him,” pursued Hiram. “It will save
his head if he tumbles.”
“Say, I don’t want to! You’ve got to stop! I’m an officer of the law and
I order you to lower this balloon.”
“You want to drop, do you?” called back Hiram, “All right, if you say
so, only——”
“No! no! no!” fairly bellowed the constable, as the pilot described a
manœuvre pretty near to accomplishing a “shoot-the-chutes” dive in
aviation. “You know best. I’ll do as you say.”
He allowed Elmer to fasten on the helmet as the machine steadied. It
made his big shock-haired head look bigger than ever.
“Now then, the felt safety buffers,” directed Hiram, and his willing
accomplice bundled the passenger in between two thick pads covering
chest and shoulders like a wad of pillows.
“He’d better have the earflaps and respirators if you’re going up into
the rarefied air,” suggested Elmer, solicitously.
“Don’t go! Say, I’m not well! This air is good enough for me,”
remonstrated the constable.
“Now for the non-concussion girdle,” ordered the merciless pilot.
Elmer was almost bursting with suppressed merriment. He was so sure that
Hiram knew his business and that no real danger was imminent in that
calm air with a perfect head breeze, that he enjoyed the occasion
immensely.
By this time their frantic fellow passenger resembled a diver, swathed
as he was in thick leather safety devices crowned with steel. Muffled up
and helpless, he squirmed, groaned and closed his eyes with a sickening
shudder every time he glanced over the edge of the machine. The unusual
sight of the earth fading away, the swift passage of the landscape,
fairly chilled him.
For five or ten minutes the passenger was content to remain mute, trying
to realize and become accustomed to his unexpected condition. The
machine had a duplicate control system. That is, the rudder wires ran to
the right hand second seat as well as to that of the pilot. This made it
possible for Hiram to confine his attention exclusively to spark and
throttle control, while his assistant could cooperate as to the steering
gear whenever the tail trailed heavily. Elmer, too, could cooperate in
the aileron and elevator control, and the flight settled down to a
smooth, perfect rush through the atmosphere.
“Ahem,” ventured their passenger as he regained his scattered wits. He
spoke in a vague, uncertain tone. “I told you that I had a warrant and I
want to explain—whew!”
Hiram Dobbs was bound to shut off the passenger from any official
complication of matters. His eye had been fixed to a row of hills ten
miles distant. He had marked out his course and he had a definite
destination in view. Just now he stirred up the officer considerably
with a new joggling twist of the machine, just as he had planned to do.
The fright of the constable was renewed. He forgot what he had started
to say.
“What’s the programme?” whispered Elmer, bending over close to the ear
of the pilot.
“I want to get you to a point of safety before that fellow has a chance
to read that warrant of his,” was the low-toned reply.
“I see; but how are you going to work it?” questioned Elmer, in some
perplexity.
“Leave that to me,” returned Hiram, in a confident way.
“Yes, I’m going to.”
“I want to get beyond the ridge ahead—in fact, as far away from our
starting point as I can.”
“I want to explain,” here again broke in their passenger. “I’ve got a
document here——”
There he stopped. Hiram had to laugh and Elmer chuckled. The constable
made several ineffectual efforts to reach a pocket in his coat. The
muffling devices he wore prevented him. He was like a man encased in a
suit of armor.
“Never mind the document,” said Hiram. “Just tell us what it’s about.”
“It’s a warrant, and it charges this young man with trespassing on the
property of a farmer with an airship. The complainant has a legal right,
_ipse dixit_, to claim malicious intent, which makes it a criminal
offense.”
“I thought so. Pretty flimsy,” remarked Hiram. “They’ve raked up some
trifle to give that miserable Vernon an excuse to keep you in court for
a week or more. All right officer,” he added, “read your warrant.”
“How can I read it when I can’t get my hands with these pesky things on
them anywhere near my pocket?” demanded the constable, wrathily.
“Very well, then don’t say I obstructed the law by refusing you your
rights.”
“When you land I’ll read the warrant,” explained the constable. “This
boy has got to come with me. It’s defiance of law to refuse.”
“We will land very soon now,” promised Hiram. “Whisper, Elmer.”
The skillful pilot worked the exhaust purposely to cover a quick
undertoned interview with his friend. There was a perfect understanding
between them by the time the colloquy was concluded.
“All right,” said Elmer simply, and with a satisfied expression on his
face, as he sank back in his seat.
The young air pilot skirted a great grove of trees and flew the _Comet_
high above a range of hills beyond. Then, near a little town with a
railroad depot showing in its midst, he prepared to descend.
Hiram made a thrilling dive that nearly sent the constable into
hysterics. The _Comet_ reached the ground and settled down upon it as
safely and gracefully as a bird sinking to its nest.
“Jump out,” he said simply, to Elmer.
The latter unbuckled the seat belt promptly and leaped to the ground
beside the machine.
“Hold on! Stop!” shouted the constable.
Elmer showed no disposition to run away. He only walked briskly up and
down, stamping his feet and exercising his arms.
“That boy is under arrest,” continued the officer, struggling with his
burden of wraps.
“Not quite yet, officer, I fancy,” retorted Hiram.
“Well, he will be soon as I get out and read my warrant. I order you to
help me, young man. If you refuse, I shall complain of your aiding and
abetting a criminal to escape.”
“Bah!” cried Hiram, “you know as well as I do that he is no criminal.
Here,” and he assisted his passenger in getting rid of the hampering
devices. “I’ll help you.”
With a great snort of relief the bulky officer stepped to the ground.
His first act was to shake his cramped limbs. Then he fished in his
pockets for the warrant.
“In the name of the law,” he began with assumed dignity, producing a
folded document.
“Hold on,” challenged Hiram, “what are you up to?”
“I’m going to arrest one Elmer Brackett.”
“I think not,” retorted Hiram, coolly. “It seems you’ve forgotten
something rather important, Mr. Officer.”
“What’s that?” snorted the constable.
“We have landed just over the state line and your warrant is no good in
this locality.”