CHAPTER XXII

DAVE A CAPTIVE

It took Dave an hour to find out just what had happened to him. He

roused up to find two men carrying him, one at his feet, one at his

shoulders. All that he could guess was that they were on land. How

he had been fished out of the water, and what had become of the

Drifter, the young aviator had no means of knowing.

The two men were rough looking fellows and reminded Dave of dock

laborers or loiterers. They were big and sturdy, and as Dave

stretched out and showed signs of life, one of them remarked

gruffly.

"None of that--no squirming, now."

Dave's clothes were soggy and dripping. He felt somewhat sore on

one side of his head, but so far as he could figure it out he was

not crippled; or seriously hurt.

The young aviator cast his eyes about him to, learn that they were

going through a patch of timber. Then came a meadow-like stretch,

and then a thicket. They had not gone far into that before the men

dropped him on the ground and stood over him.

"Can you walk?" asked one of the two.

"I think I can," replied Dave, arising quite nimbly to his feet.

The instant he did this both of the men reached, out and seized an

arm. Dave was thus pinioned tightly as the men forced him along.

"Most there," growled one of them gruffly.

"Good thing," retorted the other.

Finally they came to a dense thicket that covered a rise. About

half way up this, almost hidden by saplings and vines, Dave made

out a grim looking patched-up building.

It was an old hut to which various additions had been made. One of

Dave's companions uttered a peculiar whistle. The door of the place

was opened, and a disreputable looking fellow like themselves

admitted them.

"Hello, who's this?" he spoke in a tone of curiosity.

"Oh, some one to take care of," was the short reply.

"He don't look like a revenue."

"Worse than that. Ridgely will tell you when he comes," was the

indifferent retort. "Have you a place to keep him tight and safe?"

"I guess so," laughed the other, "a dozen of them."

"One will do."

Dave was led through several rooms. Then they came to a partition

formed of heavy timbers. In its center was a stout door with an

immense padlock.

"Get in there," spoke the most ferocious of his captors, giving Dave

a push.

Then the door was closed with a crash that showed how heavy it was.

Dave could hear those outside securing the padlock.

"A prisoner, eh?" mused Dave, looking about him. "Yes, it is,

indeed, tight and safe."

Dave's prison place was gruesome in the extreme. On three sides was

solid rock, forming a semicircular back to the room. The partition,

closed the entire front. Near its top in several places were cut

out apertures, admitting air and a little light.

There were some broken boxes in the place and a heap of burlap.

Dave decided that it had been used at some time or other as a place

of storage. He did not yet feel normal, so he sat down on one of

the boxes and felt about his head.

"Just a bruise," he reported. "I suppose they, dragged me aboard of

the Drifter from the water, but what about Hiram and the Monarch

II?"

Dave started up, all weakness and dizziness disappearing as if by

magic, as he thrilled over the possible peril of his comrade. With

a recollection only of his last sight of Hiram grid the Monarch II,

he feared what might have happened to either or both.

It worried Dave a good deal and made him restless and unhappy, but

finally he figured out a theory. In some unaccountable way the

Monarch II had no sooner glided along on its pontoon, than it had

run straightway up into the air, as though the self starter was in

perfect action. Dave recalled Hiram struggling to reach the pilot's

seat. Then he had witnessed the disappearance of the Monarch II.

"I doubt if Hiram could manage the machine--I even doubt with

something wrong with it, as there surely was, if he could keep it

adrift," decided Dave. "What then?"

The young aviator pictured Hiram and the machine in a tangle among

the trees, or dropping upset among the rocks. He had not seen

anything of the Dawsons or the Drifter since he had fallen into the

water of the bay. Perhaps, he reasoned, they had resumed an air

chase of the fugitive.

Dave had several hours to himself. He detected no sound or movement

outside of the strange room he was in. It was dreadfully dull and

lonesome, and he wondered what the outcome of his present adventure

would be.

It was well along in the day, when Dave from sheer weariness and

worry had lain down among the heaps of burlap, that a diversion came

to monotony. He started up as he heard voice outside of the door.

Then the padlock rattled, the door opened, and some one stepped

across the threshold. The visitor stared about to locate Dave, and

spoke the words:

"That you, Dashaway?"

The room was lighter now, with the door half open. Dave rubbed his

eyes and strained his gaze, and took a good look at the speaker.

"Don't you know me?" challenged the latter.

"Oh, yes," replied Dave, "I see now. You are the gentleman we

rescued from the lake at Columbus."

"I don't suppose you think me much of a gentleman just now,

Dashaway," spoke Ridgely, for, he was, in fact Dave's visitor.

His tone was somewhat regretful, and not at all unfriendly. Dave

was shrewd enough to discover this, and politic enough to take quick

advantage of it.

"Oh, I don't know," he said. "Of course you are with the crowd who

had me locked in here."

"I'm sorry to say that's true," responded Ridgely.

"It's not pleasant here, I can tell you," said Dave, "and the whole

thing is pretty high handed, don't you think so, Mr. Ridgely?"

"I don't think it, Dashaway, I know, it. See here, I've got nothing

against you. On the contrary, I owe you a good deal. I'm not

forgetting that you saved my life when my launch struck the rocks

near Columbus."

Dave was silent, resolved to let the man have his say out.

"I was in a fix then, I was in a fix before I got there, and I'm

afraid I'm in a fix now," continued Ridgely. "I've come to see you

in the right spirit, Dashaway."

"How is that?" inquired Dave.

"Sick of the whole combination. I thought I was smart, but you and

your people are smarter. Young Dawson convinced me that we could

run things so our airship could make trips for a long time, and here

you are on our trail within seventy-two hours."

"Yes, Mr. Ridgely," acknowledged the young aviator. "They found a

clew and started pursuit right after you stole the Drifter."

"You mean you did. Don't be modest, Dashaway. I've learned a good

deal about you, and if I hadn't about decided to quit business I'd

offer you a job."

"What!" smiled Dave--"smuggling?"

"Well, it pays pretty big, you know."

"Does it?" replied Dave. "I fail to see it. I wouldn't like to be

in a position where I was being chased half over the country."

"H'm, we won't discuss it," retorted Ridgely in a moody tone. "I

came to tell you that you won't be hurt any."

"But I want to get away from here," insisted Dave.

"That will be all, too," Ridgely assured him. "You see, we know now

that things are going to break up. I don't suppose you would tell

me how closely the revenue officers are on our track."

"So close," replied Dave gravely, "that you won't dare to cross the

border any more."

"Are they on the Canadian side yet?" questioned Ridgely anxiously.

"I don't know that, and I shouldn't feel right in telling you if I

did," replied Dave. "You had better let me go, Mr. Ridgely. It

won't sound well, when things get righted, that you kept me a

prisoner here."

"I haven't all the say about that, Dashaway," confessed Ridgely in a

rueful way. "I don't think the Dawsons will let you go until they

are sure of making themselves safe."

"Do you know what became of our airship, Mr. Ridgely?" Dave asked

pointedly.

"No, I don't--none of us do. Young Dawson is pretty good in the

air, but he didn't seem to know how to get off the water quickly.

After we got you aboard, we lost a lot of time getting you ashore,

and, up in the air again, when we started in the direction we had

seen your airship go, we could find no trace of it."

"I hope nothing his happened to Hiram," thought Dave, very

anxiously.

"If I get away," resumed Ridgely, "I want you to tell the people

after me, if you can, that I'm all through with the smuggling

business. I've had my fill of it."

The speaker turned to leave the room, but Dave halted him with the

question:

"What are you going to do about me, Mr. Ridgely?"

"I am going to order the people here to treat you the best they know

how," was the prompt response.

"That's all very well enough," said Dave, "but I have business to

attend to."

"What business, Dashaway?"

"Our airship and my friend."

Ridgely looked troubled. He was thoughtfully, silent for a moment

or two. Then he said:

"Look here, Dashaway, our men are looking for your airship, and that

means your friend, too, of course. I've got to go to Brantford, but

I shall leave word that they must look after your friend, and let

you go the minute I send back word that the coast is clear for them

to scatter."

"But what about the Drifter, Mr. Ridgley?" persisted Dave. "It is

the property of my employers. I came after it, and I want it."

A faint smile of mingled amusement and admiration crossed the face

of Ridgely. Reckless fellow that he was, he could not fail to

recognize the fact that Dave, indeed, had business to attend to.

"You take it pretty cool, Dashaway," he observed.

"Because I am in the right," asserted Dave, "as you well know. The

Dawsons are malicious people. I want you to warn them that if they

do, any unnecessary injury to the Drifter, it will make it the worse

for them in the final reckoning that is bound to come."

"I don't think they will do the airship any injury."

"You don't know them as I do. Desperate fellows like the Dawsons

will do anything at times."

"Dashaway, don't you think you are rather hard on them--and on me?"

"I know the Dawsons--I don't know much about you."

"I am not so bad as you think I am."

"Then why don't you set me free?"

"We won't discuss that, now. You had better think it over."

"I have thought it over. I am grateful to you for saving me,

but--well at present I can't do anything."

"You mean, you won't."

"Well, have it that way if you wish."

"You'll be sorry some day," said Dave, bluntly.

Ridgely left the room. He closed the door after him with an

assurance to Dave that things would be "all right." Just then there

was the sound of some one hurrying into the next room, and an

excited voice shouted out in an exultant tone:

"Say, father, we've got the other one, too!"

Dave Dashaway and His Hydroplane; Or, Daring Adventures over the Great Lake · 第 22 / 25 章