THE SECRET TOLD
“Now then, Dave, we are all ready to hear that promised story of yours,”
said Hiram Dobbs.
“Yes,” added Elmer Brackett, “there’s no danger of any spies or
eavesdroppers in this lonely place.”
It was a lonely place, indeed. Half a week in time and over a thousand
miles in distance removed from the Chicago aero grounds, the three young
airmen were taking a rest in the midst of a far-spreading Canadian
forest.
Right at the spot where they were camping was a knob, or hill. At its
bottom, a level stretch of some extent, there spread about a vast, wild
swamp. This afforded a good anchor spot for the biplane. The _Comet_
rested on its base somewhat travel-stained, but staunch and reliable as
at the start. The crew of the machine looked as if they had never felt
better in their lives. Wind, rain and sun had begun to brown them up
like gipsies. Energy showed in their clear, vigilant eyes, and
confidence and ambition in every movement they made. They had just
dispatched what Elmer had described as “a royal feast,” which sharp
appetites had fully enjoyed. Then, each of the trio outstretched on the
grass, they luxuriated in a restful position that a rigid posture in the
_Comet_ during a day of hard traveling had not allowed.
“All right, fellows,” said the young airman, “I guess the time has come
when it is safe for you to know what you have called a great secret.”
“Yes, out with it, Dave,” urged Hiram, “I’ve been dying with curiosity
ever since I got a hint that some big mystery was afoot.”
“It is less of a mystery than an important piece of professional work,”
explained our hero. “I didn’t tell you about it at Washington, because I
was in doubt myself. When we escaped that explosion at Chicago, I was
afraid it would unnerve and worry you to have a dread and uncertainty on
your mind. I really thought something was going to happen to us at
Winnipeg. It didn’t. We’re ahead or out of range of the enemy now, I
feel pretty certain. To sum it all up, I hardly think we will be
interfered with again—at least this side of the first Coast station,
Sitka.”
“No, it doesn’t look as if anybody would try to chase us through three
thousand miles of wilderness,” remarked Elmer.
“Anyway, there has been no sign of it so far,” said Dave.
“Provided that tramp monoplane we noticed at Winnipeg isn’t sneaking
around somewhere,” put in Hiram, quite seriously.
Dave smiled, and Elmer laughed outright, with the words:
“That was all fancy.”
“Was it?” protested Hiram, getting excited. “I tell you, that
black-looking machine was after something. You two didn’t see it as many
times as I did. There wasn’t an airman I questioned who recognized the
machine. It was a tramp, a pirate, and you won’t convince me that it
wasn’t hanging around purposely to make somebody trouble.”
“Well, we missed it, if it was the _Comet_ they were after,” said Dave.
“Now then, fellows.”
With a business like air Dave took from his pocket a box-like envelope.
He proceeded to undo its flap. Then he drew out its contents. Just as
his peering comrades expected, the young aviator revealed a heap of bank
notes and a photograph.
“Hold on, Dave,” interrupted Hiram, as his friend was about to speak;
“we don’t want to hide anything from you. We have seen that money and
picture before.”
“Oh, is that so?” asked Dave, in some surprise.
“Yes,” and Hiram related when and where.
“No harm done,” said Dave lightly. “You are good, true chums, I see
that. About this packet: Its story leads back to the day that a young
lady in an automobile came up to our hangar near Washington. Her name is
Edna Deane, and her father is General Deane, a man of some means. His
son, Morris Deane, was a noted traveler and explorer. For over two years
he has been missing. It was not until quite recently that his devoted
father and sister learned that he was either dead or a prisoner.”
“A prisoner?” exclaimed the interested Hiram. “A prisoner? Tell me how
and where, Dave?”
“In the heart of Thibet, thousands and thousands of miles away from
here. It is a strange story, fellows, and a serious one. It seems that
young Deane in his travels ventured to enter the great sacred city of
Lhassa. It meant death or permanent imprisonment, but he risked it.
There he disappeared. His anxious father and sister know this, but
nothing further. They tried to hire detectives and daring adventurers
outside of that profession to penetrate to his place of captivity.
Knowing the peril, none would go. It appears that it is almost
impossible to reach Lhassa by land or water. Every road is guarded to
keep out intruders. General Deane knew Mr. King. The thought came to him
that an airship might accomplish what ordinary vehicles of travel could
not.”
“I see,” said Hiram. “That might be all right, if it was simply a dive
and a quick rescue.”
“Which it will not be,” replied Dave, “for the information General Deane
has gathered up as to the exact fate or whereabouts of his son is very
vague. Well, as I said, the General went to Mr. King. Our old friend is
laid up, as you know. He directed the general to us, knowing about the
intended trip around the world. That little business lady, Miss Deane,
came to see me. Then I went to her father.”
“And he gave you all that money to undertake the search for his missing
son?” guessed Elmer.
“Not at all,” replied Dave. “He told me a story that not only interested
me, but excited my sympathy greatly. A year ago an uncle of Morris Deane
died, leaving an enormous estate. The relative left the estate to a man
who had been his nurse and private secretary for years. His name is
Arnold Wise. It seems he is a perfect villain, and that is not putting
it one bit too strong, I think.”
“What about him?” pressed the curious Elmer.
“According to the terms of the will, Wise was to inherit the estate,
unless within two years Morris Deane appeared and claimed it. At the
time he made his will, the uncle had about made up his mind that his
nephew was dead.”
“Suppose he turns up or is found?” inquired Hiram.
“Then Wise is to deliver the estate over to him minus one hundred
thousand dollars, which will be his rightful share. The uncle left a
note urging Wise to seek for his missing nephew.”
“Did he do it?” asked Elmer.
“Yes, he did, and found out something, the general and his daughter
believe, although he reported to them that young Deane was surely dead
long since. They finally got to believing that Wise was wicked enough to
think of having the rival heir put out of the way. Later events proved
that he is a cruel, soulless man. This brings us to our old-time enemy,
Vernon.”
“Aha! he’s mixed up with it, too?” cried Hiram.
“You remember that you discovered Vernon lurking around the hangars that
night near Washington?”
“Yes, and later coming out of the house where the Deane family lived,”
added Hiram.
“Well, I am now satisfied that Vernon overheard my entire first
conversation with Miss Edna Deane. Also that later he sneaked into
Hampton Flats, and probably overheard enough more to suggest a new
scheme to that crafty mind of his. At all events, there was a faithful
old servant of the dead uncle who had been retained by Wise. She came to
the Deanes and told them that a man named Vernon had come to Wise and
told him that the general was sending an airship expedition to find his
missing son.”
“I begin to see the light,” remarked Hiram.
“From what happened later,” proceeded the young airman, “I am satisfied
that some bargain was made between Wise and Vernon. I believe that Wise
hired our old-time enemy to outwit us. I feel sure it was Vernon who got
somebody to run away with the _Comet_. Failing to stop us he wired
accomplices in Chicago to blow up the machine. We have gone so fast that
he probably was not able to reach us at Winnipeg. He is undoubtedly
supplied with plenty of money. I should not be surprised if he kept up
his game of trying to block us all along the route. That, fellows, is
the story. The money you see here is the sum of five thousand dollars,
supplied by General Deane to use if necessary to secure the release of
his son.”
“And the photograph, Dave?” inquired Hiram. “Keepsake, eh?”
“Not at all,” replied the young aviator. “That, shown to young Deane, if
we once find him, is a token that will convince him that we are sent by
friends. Fellows, I know you are like me—willing to do all you can for a
fellow being in trouble. It would be a grand, humane act if we
succeeded. The general places no limit to the reward, but I wouldn’t
listen to that kind of talk.”
“Good for you,” applauded Elmer. “Say, I only hope we can find Morris
Deane.”
“We are going to try to,” announced our hero, quietly, but in a
determined way. “Get out the chart, Hiram, and I’ll show you how I
believe we can take in Thibet without seriously losing time in the
race.”
Hiram arose to his feet to obey this direction, when Elmer got up and
began sniffing.
“I say, Dave,” he observed, “do you smell it? Smoke! There’s fire
somewhere!”