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?”
“No, I believe his motives lead in an entirely different direction this
time,” replied Dave, but he would say no more on the topic just then. He
resumed: “Of course, we must find the _Comet_ by this time to-morrow, or
start in the race with another machine.”
“Oh, then we’ll go anyway?” asked Hiram, brightening up. “Say, that’s
great!” and he uttered an immense sigh of relief.
“Mr. Brackett has telegraphed for the _Zephyr_, which is at Baltimore,”
explained Dave. “It will be on the grounds before night.”
“Have you any clue as to what has become of the _Comet_?” asked Hiram.
“I have a very strong theory,” replied the young aviator. “Whoever made
away with the _Comet_ did not venture to fly north—too many machines
were on their way to the meet, and they would be seen. The manager wired
in every direction. An unknown airship was sighted twice, early this
morning, both times about fifty miles from Washington, going southwest
and making for the mountain districts.”
“What do you guess from that, Dave?” inquired Hiram, eagerly.
“I think they are trying to hide or lose the _Comet_ until it is too
late to start in the race. Of course, hopeless as it may seem, we must
try and recover the machine.”
“Yes, the _Zephyr_ cannot begin to compare with our special machine,”
said Hiram.
“Besides that,” added Dave, “I hope to find out who ran away with the
biplane. If Vernon is indeed back of it, that discovery would throw a
good deal of light on a certain subject in which I am greatly interested
at the present time.”
Hiram was prudently silent. He wondered to himself, however, if the
subject at which his companion hinted had anything to do with the young
lady in the automobile and Dave’s visit to the Hampton Flats.
It was about eleven o’clock when the young airman stopped at a town
named Wayne. He made a second stop at a little settlement ten miles
beyond. The automobile had now gotten well in among the hills, and the
scenery had grown wilder and wilder.
“Some airship passed over here just before daylight this morning,” Dave
finally reported to Hiram.
“Do you know the direction it went in?” asked the latter.
“Yes. We will keep on and make Tarryford. If we get no information
there, I guess we will have to give up the hunt.”
It was shortly after noon when they passed an old farmhouse. As they
whizzed by, Hiram remarked some sheds in ruins, and smoking yet as if
recently consumed by fire. He called the attention of his comrade to the
fact. They sped on. Less than half a mile accomplished, they saw ahead a
steep, high hill. By the side of the road, seated on a level rock, was a
man holding a rifle between his knees.
Something about the grim, watchful manner of the farmer attracted the
curious attention of both of the boys. Dave brought the machine to a
halt at the side of the road.
“Say, my man,” he called out, pleasantly, “have you seen or heard of an
airship anywhere around here this morning?”
It was quite startling the way the farmer came to his feet. His eyes
flashed and he handled his weapon in a menacing way.
“Have I?” he cried, fiercely. “I reckon so, and I’m ready to riddle the
troublesome old contraption the minute she shows herself again!”