SOMETHING WRONG
"What is it, Dave?" inquired Hiram, tracing a sudden seriousness in
the manner of his comrade.
Dave did not reply. With a thoughtful air he passed the telegram to
Hiram.
"Wonder what's up?" queried the latter.
"I can't imagine," said Dave.
"They tell you to cancel your dates," went on Hiram, looking very
much worried.
"Yes, that's what bothers me," replied Dave.
"And to come on to the factory at once."
"Perhaps they want to pay me off and let me go," suggested Dave,
pretending to smile.
"Don't take any trouble on your mind on that score," cried Hiram.
"They'd search a long time before they'd find a better demonstrator
than you are."
"Thank you Hiram," said Dave. "The telegram is plain."
"Yes, cancel all dates."
"That's easy, I have nothing on the programme for the rest of the
week."
"There's the aero-hydroplane stunt."
"But the machine hasn't arrived."
"That's so."
"Let's go down and see Grimshaw. I want to talk to him about this,"
said Dave.
They found the airman at the Aegis hangar. Dave read him the
telegram. Grimshaw looked bothered.
"Too bad, when things are going so finely for you," he remarked.
"I wish Mr. King was here," said Dave, "but he probably won't be
until tomorrow."
"Hardly, I should judge, from what he said," replied Grimshaw.
"I had better start right off for the Interstate plant."
"Yes. I would do that if I were you," advised Grimshaw.
"I wish you would see the managers and explain about this,"
continued Dave.
"Suppose the Drifter comes Dave?" asked Hiram.
The Drifter was the name of the new model aero-hydroplane concerning
which Dave had received a letter from the Interstate people that
day, but written the day previous.
"I'll see that it is handled all right," promised Grimshaw.
"Tell Mr. King I will wire him just as soon as I learn what's up,"
said Dave. "You'll look after the Racer and the hydroplane, won't
you, Hiram?"
"Surely I will," pledged Hiram.
Dave returned to his own quarters and packed a small hand bag. Hiram
went to the railroad depot with him. They had to wait two hours for a
south-bound train.
The factory of the Interstate Aero Company was located at a city in
Ohio. It was over three hundred miles from Columbus. The train
Dave was on arrived at a junction about daylight the next morning.
There he had to wait for a train on another road.
He had slept a few hours and got his breakfast at the depot
restaurant. According to schedule he would reach the Interstate
plant about ten O'clock in the morning.
Dave had been looking out of the car window enjoying the scenery and
thinking over affairs in general, when he chanced to direct his gaze
at a newspaper the man in the forward seat was reading. A glaring
head line had caught his eye: "A Burglar In The Clouds."
Anything suggestive of the air was of interest to the young aviator.
He wondered what the item might refer to. Dave leaned over to try
to scan the body matter of the article, when the locomotive whistled
and the train slowed up for a station. The man in front of him
shoved the newspaper into his pocket to leave the train. Then the
incident drifted from the youth's mind.
Dave reached Bolton on schedule time. An inquiry directed him to
the extensive works of the Interstate Aeroplane Company. He found
it to be a very large plant. The company, besides manufacturing
aircraft, also turned out automobiles.
Past the entrance gates of the big establishment, Dave became at
once interested in a large building bearing the sign "Aerodrome."
He could not resist the impulse to enter it. Then he found himself
going from section to section, viewing the splendid assortment of
aircraft on exhibition and for sale.
To a devotee of aeronautics the display was most fascinating. There
were monoplanes, biplanes, and hydroplanes. In one section were
samples of the various accessories of the craft. Dave was looking
over a splendid passenger monoplane when some one hailed him.
"Dashaway--say, we've been expecting you."
Dave turned to face the man who had been sent on by the Interstate
people to drill him in the use of the hydroplane at Columbus.
"Yes," nodded Dave, "I got a hurry call wire, and came on at once."
"Seen the manager?"
"Not yet. I drifted in here and lost myself among so many beauties.
I don't see the new hydro-aeroplane."
A quick shade came over the face of Dave's companion.
"No," he hesitatingly replied.
"Has it been shipped to Columbus yet?" inquired Dave.
"Why--that is, I guess I had better let the manager tell you about
the machine."
Dave noticed a singular constraint in the manner of his companion.
"Come along, I'll introduce you," volunteered the latter.
Dave accompanied his guide from the aerodrome. They passed several
large factory buildings. In their center was a small one story
brick structure labeled "Office."
Dave had never met the manager of the Interstate Company. He had
transacted all his business with the agent of the company and the
hydroplane expert. His companion led him past a row of desks
occupied by clerks and stenographers and into a neatly furnished
office.
"Here is Dashaway, Mr. Randolph," he said.
A fine looking man writing at a desk wheeled quickly in his chair.
He arose to his feet with a pleasant smile and shook Dave's hand in
a welcoming way.
"I am glad to meet you," he spoke. "You received our telegram?"
"Yes, sir, and came on at once."
"I suppose you know why we sent for you?" questioned the manager.
"Why, no, sir," replied Dave.
"We tried to keep our loss a secret," proceeded the manager, "but
the newspapers got hold of it."
Dave recalled the newspaper heading he had glanced at, "A Burglar In
The Clouds," and wondered if that had anything to do with the case.
"I have not read a newspaper since leaving Columbus last night,"
said Dave.
"Well," explained the manager of the Interstate Company, "our new
model aero-hydroplane his been stolen."