CAUGHT CONCLUSION
"Hurrah!" was the word that Hiram Dobbs spoke exultantly, and Dave
looked at him in profound surprise.
Hiram had lifted himself up from the seat. Now he went through some
movements that almost startled the puzzled young aviator.
Suddenly his arm shot out of the sling, and as suddenly Hiram,
though with a wince, swung it around once or twice, and the three
splints holding it cracked and split audibly.
"Hey, Hiram!" gasped Dave.
"S-sh!" uttered his assistant warningly.
Hiram ran his free hand down into his pocket. He drew out the big
pocket knife he carried. It was more of a tool than a whittling
toy, for he used it in tinkering about the airship.
With his teeth, Hiram opened its largest blade. He gave a slash at
the cords surrounding his other arm and his feet. Then he leaned
over towards Dave. A few deft strokes of the keen blade, and Dave,
like himself, was free.
"Easy," he whispered, as Dave started up. "I'll watch Dawson. You
get into the pilot's seat."
"Good for you, Hiram!" whispered back the young aviator, fairly
thrilling with the excitement of the moment.
Dave took in every detail of the mechanism before his eyes. He made
sure of no faulty start.
"All ready," he announced after a minute or two.
"Good-bye!" spoke Hiram, with a gay bold wave of his hand in the
direction of the sleeping, Dawson.
"Put on the muffler," ordered Dave, as the exhaust began to sizzle.
Hiram did so. It was too late, however, to avoid sounding a warning
to Dawson. The big man started up with a yell. He came to his feet
roaring out:
"Come back!"
"I hope you'll find the walking good!" shouted Hiram, waving his
hand in adieu to the amazed Dawson.
"Hiram, you're a genius!" cried Dave.
The Drifter struck a course as true as a die. The splendid machine
and the young aviator were both at their best. There was a last
fading picture of a forlorn man convulsed with rage and despair.
Then the two boy aeronauts turned their back on the enemies who had
been hoisted by their own petard.
"It's great, its grand," cheered Hiram, bubbling over with joy, as
the exhilarating air and their magical progress made him realize
what freedom meant to its fullest extent.
"I don't understand. Your arm, Hiram?" said Dave.
His jolly assistant waved the arm in question gaily.
"Wasn't it hurt?"
"Yes, and badly, I thought," reflected Hiram. "It was numb and
useless when the half breed attended to it, but he was mistaken and
so was I in thinking that any bones were broken."
"They were not?"
"Not a bit of it. Don't you see? It pains, and I'm bragging when I
swing it around as if it was as good as ever, but I can use it."
"You have used it to a grand purpose, Hiram."
"I didn't notice that I could use it until they locked me up with
you."
"Why didn't you tell me then?"
"Oh, I wanted to surprise you."
"You have, Hiram."
"I thought I'd play 'possum on those smart fellows. I played the
cripple strong. You see what has come of it."
When they had gone nearly one hundred miles, Dave saw that the
gasoline supply was running low. Luckily they were near a little
town. They made a descent on a river, much to the delight and
wonder of the whole place, bought a new supply, and resumed their
flight.
It was after ten o'clock in the evening when the welcome lights of
Anseton came into view. Dave did not look around for some hiding
place on the outskirts on this occasion. He startled a drowsy
policeman by landing in the middle of some vacant lots on his beat.
A brief explanation was made to the officer, and a man hired to
watch the Drifter until they returned. Then Dave and Hiram hurried
to the hotel in Anseton where Mr. Price made his headquarters.
The revenue officer was found. He listened to the story of the two
young aviators in amazement and admiration. Then he reported
results of his own efforts.
Ridgely was under arrest, two of his accomplices were being then
pursued by his assistants, and the smuggling combination was all
broken up.
"The clews you have given us were fine ones, Dashaway," said the
official gratefully. "You have done the government a vast service,
I can tell you."
Mr. Price insisted on the boys taking a needed rest. He sent one of
his men to guard the Drifter, and, after a famous meal, made his
guests agree to sleep in a comfortable bed for the first time in
nearly a week.
It was just after they had entered their room that Dave made the
remark.
"You know we had better see if those friends of the Dawsons have
found the Monarch II and made away with it, Hiram."
"Well, I can tell you that they haven't," replied Hiram, with a
confident chuckle.
"How can you know that?"
"Why, Dave, when I was shut in with the machine in that basin, I
took it apart. You know it was made to do that, so it could be
shipped readily. Well, I'll bet you I hid those parts in places in
that basin where nobody can locate them but myself."
"Good for you!" commended Dave heartily.
"I think the Interstate people will have something pleasant to say
to you when they know all the wonders you've done in chasing their
stolen airship."
It was the brightest day in the year, it seemed to the two young
aviators, as they reached Columbus by train, and started at once for
Mr. King's hangar.
Old Grimshaw had met them at the depot. He was full of friendly
chatter, seemed to be chuckling over some secret surprise he had in
store for them, and rushed them towards the headquarters of the
Aegis.
"Yes, Mr. King is back," he advised the boys.
"Did he find Mr. Dale?" inquired Dave anxiously.
"He'll tell you."
Dave and Hiram had much to relate. Two boys probably never received
a more pleasant welcome than they, when with the Drifter they
reported to the manager of the Interstate Aeroplane Company.
Mr. Randolph had the president and two directors of the concern on
hand to meet them. Their stirring story was taken in by the august
business men with an attention and appreciation that of itself paid
the lads well for all the duty done.
The boys had remained long enough at Anseton to have some men go
with them and locate the hidden sections of the Monarch II, and
arrange to have them shipped by rail back to the factory.
Dave felt pretty rich when he left the Interstate works with a check
for five hundred dollars in his pocket, and an offer of advanced
employment for himself and his loyal and useful assistant for two
seasons ahead.
"I want to see Mr. King before I decide what I will do," Dave told
Mr. Randolph, his mind full of the much discussed flight across the
Atlantic in the giant airship. "You can have your two hundred and
fifty dollars any time you like, Hiram." he added to his chum on
their way to the depot.
As they now reached the Aegis hangar, Grimshaw stepped aside with a
pleased laugh.
"Safe and sound and famous. Here they are, Mr. King!" he shouted.
"There's no doubt of that," chorused the friendly voice of the
expert aviator. "Dave! Hiram! A thousand times welcome."
If he had been own father to the lads, Mr. King could not have
greeted them more affectionately.
"You've done us all proud, Dashaway," he declared. "Got a telegram
from the Interstate folks, and the noon paper. The paper has given
you two columns. This way. A friend waiting to see you."
Mr. King pushed Dave across the little room in the hangar he used as
an office.
A middle aged, noble looking gentleman arose from a chair as Dave
entered. His face was beaming, and there was an eager light in his
eyes.
"Dave Dashaway?" he said, half inquiringly.
"Yes, sir," assented Dave, grasping the extended hand of the
gentleman.
"My best and oldest friend's boy," continued the gentleman.
"It is Mr. Dale, Dashaway," spoke Mr. King, following Dave into the
room.
Somehow the young aviator felt his heart warm to the man of whom he
had heard so much, but had never before seen. The old gentleman's
eyes rested on him in a kindly earnest way that made Dave feel less
lonely in the world.
Briefly Mr. King told of the chase he had made to locate Mr. Dale.
"I've got a long story to tell," said the aviator, when he could get
a chance to talk. He turned to Mr. Dale. "That is, if you wish me
to tell it," he added.
"Certainly," was the ready reply. "You can probably tell it better
than I can."
"Well, to begin with, it was no easy task to get on the track of
this fellow Gregg," commenced the well-known aviator. "I had to do
some tall hunting before I could locate him and his two cronies."
"His cronies?" repeated Dave.
"Yes, he had two fellows in the game with him. I guess he found out
that he could not manage it alone. The three of them called on Mr.
Dale and at first got him to take an automobile ride. Then they
took him to a lonely house down near Slaytown, and there they kept
him a prisoner."
"A prisoner!"
"Yes."
"Just as we were kept prisoners," muttered our hero.
"Mr. Dale says he was treated very nicely, for Gregg no doubt, had
an idea he could get more money that way."
"Well, after a good deal of hard work I located the spot and saw Mr.
Dale from a distance. I knew I could not rescue him single handed,
so I went back to town and notified the police. I had hard work
getting three officers to accompany me, because the police just then
were having their annual inspection and parade and all wanted to be
present. When we got to the lonely house we got a big surprise."
"How was that?"
"Gregg and the two men and Mr. Dale were gone."
"Where to?"
"At first I couldn't find out. But we saw wagon tracks in the soft
roadbed and followed these along the road and through a big field.
Presently we came to a patch of woods, and there found what in years
gone by had been a lumber camp. At the old house we saw a horse and
wagon, and we knew the crowd must be somewhere around. We
separated, and came up to the place from all sides. In a shed near
the house we found Gregg and the two men. They were discussing the
situation, when we pounced on them and surprised them."
"Did they resist?"
"Gregg did, and as a consequence he got a blow in the mouth from a
policeman's club that broke off two of his teeth. Then all of the
crowd gave up, and we handcuffed the lot and made them prisoners."
"And Mr. Dale?" asked Dave, with interest.
"We found him in the old house, tied up."
"And very grateful for the rescue," put in the old gentleman,
warmly.
"All of us came to town in the wagon the rascals had hired. Then
Gregg and his accomplices were put in jail, and Mr. Dale and I came
on here," concluded Mr. King.
"I am mighty happy to see things have turned out this way," said our
hero, heartily.
"I am so glad to find the son of my old balloonist friend," said Mr.
Dale, "that I shall have to adopt you legally, Dave, before you slip
away from me again. Let me be your second father, my boy, and take
an interest in your progress. I stayed over here with our mutual
friend, Mr. King, purposely to go over this wonderful plan to cross
the Atlantic in an airship."
"Then you think well of it?" asked Dave.
"You do not have to ask that of an old aeronaut enthusiast, my boy,"
replied Mr. Dale.
"Yes, Dashaway," said the aviator, "Mr. Dale has promised gladly to
furnish the capital to put through our newest giant airship scheme."
So, for the present, we leave Dave Dashaway, the young aviator, and
his friends. What happened to them in their new and daring project,
will be told in the next volume of this series, to be called, "Dave
Dashaway and His Giant Airship; Or, A Marvelous Trip Across the
Atlantic."
The young aviator had won his way through pluck and perseverance.
Dave had already done some great things in his apprenticeship as a
junior aeronaut.
Now, the friend, and assistant of a noted expert in aeronautics, he
was eager and buoyant at the prospect of winning fame and fortune in
an attempt that was the dream of the expert airman of the world.
THE END
End of Project Gutenberg's Dave Dashaway and his Hydroplane, by Roy Rockwood