THE FALSE BAROGRAPH
“He’s a wizard, but——”
The speaker, one of many gathered near the grand stand of the
International grounds, paused in the middle of the sentence, and looked
significantly at his companion.
“I understand,” agreed the latter. “You want to say that the fellow
Valdec is an aviatic contortionist. Whew! there’s a risky turn. And
he’s bobbed up all right. There’s not much practicability or science in
the stunt, though.”
The _Whirlwind_ had gone up third in the last big event of the meet.
Valdec had completely overshadowed his previous contestants. There was
no doubt as to his agility, daring and complete mastery of his machine
at critical junctures. He suggested reckless bravado, and acted like a
man not caring one whit for life or limb.
“He’s hair-raising and blood-curdling, and that is all,” declared
Hiram. “But——”
“There’s his big stunt—looping the loop!” cried the thrilled and really
interested Bruce.
There could not help but be vociferous applause as a result of the
marvellous gyrations of Valdec. He was showing off his strongest
points. To the lover of sensations they were fascinating. To the real,
progressive airman, however, they showed little in the way of grace or
real utility.
For all that, the ever observant Hiram looked sober and anxious as
Valdec brought the _Whirlwind_ to center field, and was greeted with a
real ovation. Dave next received the signal to begin, and the _Ariel_
arose in the air.
“I’m tingling all over!” declared Hiram.
“Keep your nerves steady,” advised Mr. Brackett, at his side. “Dave
will, I am sure.”
“Pretty work, that,” pronounced a bystander, and the staring, gaping
Hiram echoed the sentiment enthusiastically.
The _Whirlwind_ had been a mad, erratic, dashing creature full of
strange turns and jerky movements. Valdec had looped the loop twice,
but it was with a dive, rather than a swoop. The _Ariel_ proceeded on
its course with a gliding movement until about eight hundred feet up in
the air. Then the pilot began a spiral. The crowd watched the maneuver
breathlessly. There was not a break in the swift, perfect circles,
narrowing to a space not three times the length of the biplane.
“Pretty neat, that!” sang out an admiring voice.
“One—two—three” added a strident echo—“he’s discounted the record!”
Three times in succession, far up aloft, the _Ariel_ had turned a
complete loop-the-loop somersault. So graceful, so easy it seemed to
the expert young aviator, that the maneuver was a pleasant contrast to
the rapid rush work of the venturesome Valdec.
A roar of commendation arose from the spectators. Not yet, however, had
Dave Dashaway won his full laurels. The _Ariel_ sailed away from its
recent field of action straightaway west. Then, five hundred feet up in
the air, within the full view of every person on the ground, distinctly
the _Ariel_ began “writing.”
“A-R-I-E-L”—in small letter script; every curve and letter formation
could be traced.
The watching crowd went wild with delight. As the _Ariel_ descended
gracefully to the ground, even the Syndicate crowd themselves knew that
the day had gone against them. The judges were of one voice. The
official blackboard gave to number five thirty additional points.
“Ten points shy—oh, dear!” lamented Hiram.
“Mr. Dashaway has shown his mettle all the same,” proclaimed Bruce
proudly.
“There’s nothing open for the _Ariel_ class to-morrow, the last day,”
observed Hiram. “I suppose the committee will give out the official
award of the big prize this evening.”
“Oh, Hiram! Hiram!” shouted Bruce three hours later, bursting into the
hangar where his comrade was writing a letter to some home friends.
“You’re to come down to headquarters right away.”
“That so? Who says it?” challenged Hiram in his usual offhand way.
“Mr. Brackett. And Dave. Something’s up. A row, I think.”
“A row? Why? what about?” questioned Hiram, fully interested now.
“About the awards. I don’t know—I just guess. I know this much, for
Dave Dashaway told me that. The committee of awards wants all our
people, and the Syndicate folks.”
“I’m such a small potato I can’t see why they include me,” observed
Hiram. “Unless—thunder! if it’s about——”
“That barograph” he was about to add, but he suppressed the utterance.
All the way to the club building, however, there was an excited flush
on his cheeks, and he was thinking hard and hopefully.
“_Ariel?_ You’re to go in,” spoke the guard at the door of the
committee room—and the boys entered. Hiram was last. He paused for a
moment as he passed a man seated somewhat back in the shadow. In an
instant he recognized the disguised man of the restaurant.
“Mr. Borden!” he spoke in a whisper. Then he passed on. The tramp
artist had placed a warning finger to his lips.
Mr. Brackett and Dave sat slightly back of a table around which were
gathered the five official committeemen. Opposite to them were
Worthington, Valdec and two others of their crowd. The chairman of the
committee took up a bundle of papers and arose to his feet.
“All those interested in the matter under consideration are here, I
believe,” he observed. “Mr. Worthington,” he continued, “we have to
announce a revision of the unofficial announcement of prizes won.”
“How is that? What do you mean?” flared up the fiery Valdec.
“Just this,” replied the chairman steadily, almost sternly. “The
committee has awarded the altitude test to number five.”
“Why! see here!” shouted the choleric Valdec, springing to his feet.
“The barograph test”—but the chairman silenced him with a dignified
wave of his hand and went on:
“You are barred from the grounds hereafter and the Association will be
notified. You can take your choice with your entrant, Mr. Worthington:
a public exposure, or a quiet withdrawal from membership in and
privileges of the National Aero Association.”
“I cannot understand,” stammered Worthington, uneasily.
“This gentleman will explain,” observed the chairman and Borden
advanced from the shadows, minus his disguise.
It was a brief but conclusive story—that which the artist tramp
recited. He charged the Syndicate people with conspiring to defeat the
high aims of aviatics. He claimed that Valdec had never made the
altitude flight and had substituted a “doctored” barograph for the one
the officers supplied to him at the start of the contest.
“The man you employed to provide the fraudulent instrument has been
brought to us by Mr. Borden,” proceeded the chairman. “His private mark
was on the barograph and the one removed is in our possession, secured
secretly by Mr. Borden at your hangar.”
Dismay, exposure, defeat!—like some snarling animal Valdec left the
room. Humiliated and degraded Worthington sneaked after him.
“You are credited with forty new points, Mr. Dashaway,” announced the
chairman of the committee, “giving you a winning lead. The committee
has decided to award you the ten thousand dollar prize.”
* * * * *
The grand event was over, the victor crowned, and Dave Dashaway stood
champion in his line, eager for new laurels.
It all came to him pleasantly as he started the _Ariel_ homeward for
the International grounds after a brief pleasure flight.
The incidents of the past two days had been most enjoyable. The
Interstate Aero Company had won approved recognition of their output,
and their machine had been driven by the top-notch artist in the
aviation field.
The result of the discovery of the diamonds had made Bruce Beresford
supremely happy. He could now provide permanently for his little
sister, Lois, and he could afford to wait till the next season to
rejoin his young friends in their airship experiences. His ears healed
so that only a scar showed.
The diamond thief had undoubtedly smashed the window of the old hut at
Wayville to throw his plunder into an obscure hiding place. The jeweler
was faithful as to the payment of the promised reward. Then, when the
business of the meet was over Dave had gone on a little trip of his own.
The young aviator was about fifteen miles from his destination, when a
swift biplane he had noticed casually, crossed for the second time in
front of him and made a sudden flight aloft. Then it swung around,
followed the same course the _Ariel_ was pursuing and, putting on full
speed, got directly above him.
“That’s a queer maneuver,” observed Dave, and the words had scarcely
left his lips when there shot down a dark object with a sputtering
sparkling spot of fire in its center. It struck the tail of the
_Ariel_, rebounded, descended perhaps a hundred feet and exploded in
mid air.
“Meant for me!” cried Dave, “but why? Who is this new enemy——”
A yell fell upon the ears of the astonished pilot of the _Ariel_. It
proceeded from above. Dave ventured one glance overhead. He was truly
startled.
The rival biplane was in flames. The pilot had given the wheel a
wrench, and as the machine went hurtling down, not thirty feet above
the _Ariel_, he tore himself from his seat and jumped.
Like a shot he struck the _Ariel_ cockpit rail, and, helpless,
crippled, and apparently insensible, began to slip across the wings.
Dave reached for him and pulled him into the machine.
“Just in time!” he breathed, his mind in a tumult.
Only by a dexterous movement did Dave save the aeroplane from capsizing
for his momentary inattention to the wheel and the shock of the falling
body had nearly wrecked the machine. His involuntary passenger did not
move. The other biplane fell earthwards all aflame.
Dave had no idea as to the identity of his baffled enemy, whom he
decided must have been hurt by striking the metal edge of the cockpit.
He made for the International grounds and landed directly in font of
the _Ariel_ hangar.
“Help me get a man out,” he directed Hiram, who stood awaiting the
descent.
“What’s up now, Dave?” inquired his assistant, leaning over and looking
into the cockpit. “Why, say—it’s Vernon!”
Dave was greatly startled. Into his mind flashed the truth. Filled with
malice and revenge because he had lost a probably rich reward for
putting through his infamous plottings, Vernon had essayed a final
attack upon the young aviator.
“He tried to destroy the _Ariel_,” said Dave, “but he seems hurt. Phone
for an ambulance, Hiram.”
Vernon was, indeed, hurt. Both of his arms were broken at the wrists.
He would never drive an airship again.
Good came of Dave’s care for him, miscreant as he was. The old
accomplices of Vernon abandoned him in his wretched plight, but Dave
saw that he was given the best of care at a hospital.
Vernon broke down under this kind treatment. He not only confessed his
share in the plots of the Syndicate, but betrayed the secrets of old
Martin Dawson.
Not much of the Beresford fortune was wrested from that schemer, but at
least Bruce Beresford had the satisfaction of so working out affairs
that Dawson could no longer interfere with him or his little sister,
Lois.
“You are a credit to your friends,” proclaimed Mr. Brackett, as he
handed Dave Dashaway the ten thousand dollar check that represented the
first grand prize of the International meet.
“And what lots of them he’s got!” cried Hiram Dobbs.
“I hope I’m somewhere on the list,” modestly intimated Bruce Beresford.
“Be sure of that,” was the hearty reply. “So much so, that, when we
start in for new triumphs, next season, I hope to enroll you as one of
the crew of the _Ariel_,” said Dave.
“Fine!” cried Bruce. “That would suit me down to the ground—to become
an airman like you, Mr. Dashaway.”
“You can’t become an airman like Dave,” broke in Hiram, loyally. “There
isn’t a man that flies who can come up to him. He’s the champion, and
in a class by himself.”
“And that’s the truth,” added Mr. Brackett. “There is only one Dave
Dashaway.”
“Then I propose three cheers for him!” cried Bruce.
“Whoop! Hurray! That’s the talk!” burst out Hiram. And then the cheers
were given with vigor, and a “tiger” was added.
And here let us say good-bye to Dave Dashaway, Air Champion.
THE END.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Transcriber's Notes
Small capitals are rendered in full capitals.
Italicized phrases are presented by surrounding the text with
underscores.
Boldface phrases are presented by surrounding the text with equal
signs.
frontispiece - added comma to title to be consistent
with other usage of title in book
original text: Dave Dashaway Air Champion
page 13 - moved dashes inside end quote
original text: Maybe it’s a joke"——
page 26 - changed "maximun" to "maximum"
original text: maximun span of thirty-five feet
page 34 - added period at end of sentence
original text: choked out the lad by Hiram's side
page 46 - changed "manufacfacturer" to "manufacturer"
original text: asked the manufacfacturer
page 65 - changed "holdng" to "holding"
original text: weights used for holdng down the hay
page 69 - changed "oldtime" to "old-time" to be consistent with
usage in the book
original text: a group of oldtime
page 83 - added missing opening quote
original text: Hello! what’s that, now?"
page 86 - changed "promply" to "promptly"
original text: answered the watchman promply
page 92 - removed extraneous comma
original text: who looked, so very dangerous.
page 100 - added period at end of sentence
original text: it was a trick," suggested Hiram
page 108 - changed "kind hearted" to "kind-hearted" to be
consistent with usage in the 1910's
original text: with the kind hearted lady
page 111 - removed extraneous quote
original text: "A doctor fixed up my
page 118 - capitalized sentence
original text: "stay here Bruce.
page 131 - changed comma to period
original text: plans," went on Hiram,
page 141 - changed "sand" to "stand"
original text: alighted the nearest to the sand occupied
page 145 - changed "spell-bound" to "spellbound" to be
consistent with other usage in the book
original text: as if spell-bound.
page 156 - changed "offhanded" to "off-handed" to be
consistent with other usage in the book
original text: meant to be offhanded, but
page 158 - added missing quote
original text: Mr. Brackett and Dave are saying little and thinking
page 186 - removed extraneous quote
original text: "You are...thicket? "We’ll go, too. Do you see
that?"
page 186 - removed extraneous "the"
original text: the movements of the the fugitive
page 187 - removed extraneous quote
original text: would budge it."
page 192 - changed "Dashawhay" to "Dashaway"
original text: “Mr. Dashawhay has shown his
page 195 - added beginning quote
original text: “You are...Dashaway,” announced the chairman
of the committee, giving you a winning lead
page 197 - changed "purstung" to "pursuing"
original text: followed the same course the _Ariel_ was purstung
page 198 - removed extraneous quote
original text: ...he seems hurt." Phone for an ambulance, Hiram."
page 199 - changed "Dodds" to "Dobbs"
original text: "And what lots of them he’s got!" cried Hiram Dodds.
End of Project Gutenberg's Dave Dashaway, Air Champion, by Roy Rockwood