IN BAD COMPANY
“What’s that?” shouted young Brackett.
He made a spring forward as if he hoped to intimidate Dave. The young
aviator did not budge an inch, and his adversary contented himself with
simply glaring at him.
“You heard me,” said Dave, simply.
“Yes,” fired up the fellow named Vernon; “we heard you, and if I was in
Brackett’s place you wouldn’t be heard much longer. Say, Elmer, why
don’t you wire your father and get some kind of an accommodating crowd
around here.”
“I’d soon show who was boss if I was near the old man,” grumbled young
Brackett.
“I am boss here, if that is what you want to call it,” said Dave. “This
is private property, I am in charge, and you are trespassers. Outside of
your not coming at me in the right way, I want to say to you that the
_Gossamer_ is here for a specific purpose, and I have my orders and
plans.”
“If my father was here, he’d soon order you to give us a spin in the
_Gossamer_,” declared Brackett.
“I know who your father is, and respect him greatly,” replied Dave, “but
I would have to have his written order to do any work outside of
routine.”
“Oh, is that so!” sneered Brackett. “You seem to make no bones about
gallivanting about in the _Gossamer_ as freely as you choose with your
own particular lady friends.”
Dave made no reply. He did not consider that his visitors had the
fineness of mind to understand the pathetic circumstances of his efforts
in behalf of the Winston family.
Vernon gave his companion a wink and a nudge. He whispered some quick
words to him that Dave did not catch. Young Brackett drew out a wallet
stuffed full of money.
“See here, Dashaway,” he spoke, in a tone meant to be friendly and
wheedling; “be a good fellow. There are some girls down at the hotel I
promised to show the _Gossamer_ to, and what she could do on the water.
I’ll make it a twenty. Come, help us out.”
“I am sorry,” replied Dave, steadily.
“You won’t do it?”
“No.”
Again Vernon whispered to his companion. The latter nodded his head.
Vernon shot a quick glance about the enclosure. Then, before Dave could
surmise his purpose, the man made a spring at him.
The young aviator was athletic and strong, but he had to cope with a
full grown man. Vernon had seized his arms from behind and Dave
struggled in vain.
“Fetch those ropes over near the airship,” directed Vernon, with an
unpleasant laugh. “I’ll show you how to do this thing.”
Young Brackett looked a trifle frightened.
“See here, Vernon,” he said, “I don’t know about this.”
“Well, I do,” retorted Vernon, securely twisting the rope about Dave’s
arms and body. “You said you knew how to run the machine, didn’t you?”
“Why, I’ve been up in a biplane at the works several times,” said
Brackett, rather hesitatingly.
“What are you afraid of, then? Just because it’s a bigger machine? Look
here, give it a try.”
“What are you going to do with Dashaway?”
“Take him along.”
“What!”
“Certainly, so if we make any blunders he’ll have to take the helm to
help himself out of the fix.”
“I want to warn you,” cried Dave. “You are trying a dangerous
experiment.”
Vernon only laughed. Brackett put on a braggart air of over-confidence.
The former lifted Dave into one of the seats and took his own behind the
pilot post.
“All right,” announced Brackett, climbing into the forward seat. “I
think I can manage the machine.”
Dave cast a hopeless look towards the gates of the enclosure. There was
no sign of Grimshaw or Hiram. He watched the bungling of Brackett over
the delicate mechanism, fearful as to the outcome of the resolution of
the reckless fellow.
“Self-starter, eh?” he heard the presumptuous pilot say. “I know how to
operate that. What’s this little mirror for? Oh, yes, to index the
curves. Pshaw! I can’t go wrong if I watch that.”
“Can’t you? Oh, my!” muttered Dave.
Young Brackett was all right at the wheel. His brief biplane experience
counted for enough to enable him to make a very pretty swoop aloft. He
was so delighted at this that he chuckled:
“Say, I guess I’ll take a job at running the governor’s machine myself.
Hey, what?”
“Good for you—doing finely,” commended Vernon. “Get over the lake,
Brackett. If you can manage to sail the machine we’ll take the girls for
a ride.”
Dave held his breath. Brackett had split half a circle abruptly, and the
_Gossamer_ got ready for a dive. By some accident the frightened pilot
banked just in time to save a spill.
“Don’t change your course—don’t dare to!” fairly shouted the excited
Dave, as he saw that any further attempt at a head change in novice
hands meant sure destruction for the _Gossamer_.
Young Brackett was terribly frightened. In his fear and dismay he turned
on the full power, but let the machine run a perfectly straight course.
It was, however, on an angle of about fifty degrees.
“What’s he to do?” chattered Vernon, himself growing pale and nerveless.
“I can’t tell—I can only show him. If the course is not changed, the
machine will hit the earth going forty miles an hour,” declared Dave.
“Show him, then! show him!” gasped Vernon.
He reached over with trembling hands and began to loosen the ropes with
which he had bound the young aviator. In some way they had become
tangled, and in that circumscribed space he dared not move about freely.
The _Gossamer_ tipped slightly, and its dismayed pilot let out a yell of
fear.
While Vernon was tugging breathlessly at the ropes, Dave noted that the
machine was due to land with a terrific shock inside of two minutes. It
just grazed the tops of some tall trees. Then it missed a flagpole in
the center of some private grounds.
“Shut off the power, or we are lost!” cried Dave.
Brackett had just enough sense left to obey him, but that did not
prevent a catastrophe. They were just passing near some glass-covered
hothouses. The first one they skidded. At the second one the head of the
machine ripped the top row of glasses out of place like a toboggan shoe
splintering a stretch of thin ice. Then the under floats tangled in the
frame work, and Dave bore company with the others in a dive into a bed
of geraniums.
The shock of even that soft landing place was sufficient to half stun
our hero for the moment. In a dim blur of vision he seemed to see two
figures limping away. He caught sight of the machine lying half-way
through a frail trellis. Then he heard these startled words in an
unfamiliar voice:
“Hello! I say, what’s this?”
Dave looked up to see a man in gardener’s garb staring in turn at
himself, the _Gossamer_, and the havoc the machine had made.
“If you’ll help me up,” said Dave, rather faintly; “I’ll try to
explain.”
“You’ll have to!” cried the gardener. “Who ever heard of such a thing?
Get up, but don’t you try to run away from all the mischief you’ve
done.”
“Hardly,” promised Dave, as the man cut the ropes securing him. “How
badly is the machine damaged?”
“How badly are my greenhouses damaged, you’d better say!” shouted the
man. “Say, who’s to pay for all this wreck and ruin?”
“Don’t worry about that,” replied Dave. “The company will settle with
you.”
“I don’t know anything about your company,” retorted the man. “If you’re
Dashaway——”
“I am.”
“I’ve heard of you, and you look like a decent, honest fellow. But say,
this is an awful fix for me. I’m only in charge here, and I don’t know
but the boss will hold me responsible for what’s happened and take the
damage out of my small pay.”
“I will see that he doesn’t do that,” pledged Dave.
The man was almost crying in his fright and distress.
“You estimate what it will cost to replace things as they were,”
directed Dave, “and I’ll settle it right out of my own pocket before I
even leave here.”
“You will?” cried the gardener, joyfully.
“You can depend upon it. Did you see anything of two fellows who were in
the machine with me?”
“Yes, I saw two young men running for that back fence yonder. They got
out of sight pretty quick.”
“I’m glad they weren’t hurt, anyway,” thought Dave.
The gardener went around, surveying the damage done to the greenhouses,
while Dave examined the _Gossamer_. Our hero was agreeably surprised to
find that outside of the warping of one of the wings and a twisted
propeller, the machine had suffered very slight injury.
“A lucky escape,” he said to himself. “Those venturesome fellows were
never nearer death than fifteen minutes ago.”
“I say, what’s this, Dashaway!”
It was Grimshaw who spoke, pale and out of breath. Equally startled and
anxious, Hiram Dobbs, following him, came rushing up to the spot.