// dashaway-world-src.txt
.dt Dave Dashaway Around the World, by Roy Rockwood - A Project Gutenberg eBook
.de div.figcenter p { font-size: 85%; }
////////////
//chapter heading macro
// $1 = chapter number roman numerals, words, whatever - also used for tag id=
// $2 = subchapter text in quotes
.dm chap $1 $2
.sp 4
.h2 break id=chap$1
CHAPTER $1
.sp
.ce
$2
.sp 2
.dm-
////////////
//chapter heading macro - w/o page break
.dm chapnb $1 $2
.sp 4
.h2 nobreak id=chap$1
CHAPTER $1
.sp
.ce
$2
.sp 2
.dm-
////////////
//illustration macro
// $1 = nn for id
// $2 = filename.ext
// $3 = width in pixels
// $4 = caption in quotes
.dm illust $1 $2 $3 $4
.de div#fig$1 img {padding:5px; border:1px solid black;}
.il id=fig$1 fn=$2 w=$3px
.ca $4
.dm-
////////////
//illustration macro - without a caption
// $1 = nn for id
// $2 = filename.ext
// $3 = width in pixels
.dm illustnocap $1 $2 $3
.de div#fig$1 img {padding:5px; border:1px solid black;}
.il id=fig$1 fn=$2 w=$3px
.dm-
////////////////////////////////////////////////////
.if h
.pm illustnocap 00 cover.jpg 508
.pb
.if-
.bn 001.png
.pm illustnocap 01 p001.jpg 446
.ca
IN ADDITION TO THE ENVELOPING GLOOM OF THE STORM,
IT HAD BEGUN TO GET DUSK.
<i>Dave Dashaway Around the World</i> <i>Page</i> 120
.ca-
.pb
.bn 002.png
.sp 4
.h1 nobreak title="Dave Dashaway Around the World"
<xl>Dave Dashaway | Around the World</xl>
.sp
.nf c
Or
.sp
A Young Yankee Aviator Among Many
Nations
.sp 2
<sc>BY</sc>
ROY ROCKWOOD
<sc>AUTHOR OF “DAVE DASHAWAY THE YOUNG AVIATOR,” “THE
SPEEDWELL BOYS SERIES,” “THE GREAT MARVEL SERIES,” ETC.</sc>
.sp 2
ILLUSTRATED
.sp 2
NEW YORK
<l>CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY</l>
PUBLISHERS
.nf-
.pb
.bn 003.png
.sp 4
.nf c
<xl>BOOKS FOR BOYS</xl>
.sp
BY ROY ROCKWOOD
.sp
DAVE DASHAWAY SERIES
.sp
<xs>12mo. Cloth. Illustrated.</xs>
<xs>Price per volume, 40 cents, postpaid.</xs>
.nf-
.nf b
DAVE DASHAWAY THE YOUNG AVIATOR
DAVE DASHAWAY AND HIS HYDROPLANE
DAVE DASHAWAY AND HIS GIANT AIRSHIP
DAVE DASHAWAY AROUND THE WORLD
.nf-
.sp
.nf c
THE SPEEDWELL BOYS SERIES
.sp
<xs>12mo. Cloth. Illustrated.</xs>
<xs>Price per volume, 40 cents, postpaid.</xs>
.nf-
.nf b
THE SPEEDWELL BOYS AND THEIR MOTORCYCLES
THE SPEEDWELL BOYS AND THEIR RACING AUTO
THE SPEEDWELL BOYS AND THEIR POWER LAUNCH
THE SPEEDWELL BOYS IN A SUBMARINE
.nf-
.sp
.nf c
THE GREAT MARVEL SERIES
.sp
<xs>12mo. Cloth. Illustrated.</xs>
<xs>Price per volume 60 cents, postpaid.</xs>
.nf-
.nf b
THROUGH THE AIR TO THE NORTH POLE
UNDER THE OCEAN TO THE SOUTH POLE
FIVE THOUSAND MILES UNDERGROUND
THROUGH SPACE TO MARS
LOST ON THE MOON
.nf-
.sp
.ce
<sc>Cupples & Leon Co., Publishers, New York.</sc>
.hr 70%
.nf c
Copyrighted 1913, by
<sc>Cupples & Leon Company</sc>
.nf-
.hr 20%
.ce
<sc>Dave Dashaway Around the World</sc>
.pb
.bn 004.png
.sp 4
.ce
CONTENTS
.sp 2
.ta r:7 l:30 r:5 w=60%
CHAPTER||PAGE
I. |#<sc>The “Comet”</sc>:chapI#|1
II. |#<sc>An Involuntary Passenger</sc>:chapII#|9
III. |#<sc>On the Wing</sc>:chapIII#|17
IV. |#<sc>A Mysterious Visitor</sc>:chapIV#|24
V. |#<sc>Something Wrong</sc>:chapV#|32
VI. |#<sc>The Stolen Biplane</sc>:chapVI#|40
VII. |#<sc>Found</sc>:chapVII#|48
VIII. |#<sc>Something of a Mystery</sc>:chapVIII#|54
IX. |#<sc>The Path of the Eagle</sc>:chapIX#|61
X. |#<sc>A Midnight Alarm</sc>:chapX#|68
XI. |#<sc>In Peril</sc>:chapXI#|76
XII. |#<sc>The Secret Told</sc>:chapXII#|83
XIII. |#<sc>An Exciting Moment</sc>:chapXIII#|91
XIV. |#<sc>The Tramp Monoplane</sc>:chapXIV#|97
XV. |#<sc>Strictly Business</sc>:chapXV#|107
XVI. |#<sc>A Siberian Adventure</sc>:chapXVI#|117
XVII. |#<sc>A Grateful Friend</sc>:chapXVII#|125
XVIII. |#<sc>In Strange Lands</sc>:chapXVIII#|134
XIX. |#<sc>Strange Companions</sc>:chapXIX#|143
XX. |#<sc>Rescued</sc>:chapXX#|151
.bn 005.png
XXI. |#<sc>War</sc>:chapXXI#|161
XXII. |#<sc>Lost in the Air</sc>:chapXXII#|170
XXIII. |#<sc>The Blazing Beacon</sc>:chapXXIII#|178
XXIV. |#<sc>The Home Stretch</sc>:chapXXIV#|187
XXV. |#<sc>Conclusion</sc>:chapXXV#|195
.ta-
.pb
.bn 006.png
.pn 1
.pi
.sp 4
.ce 2
<xl>DAVE DASHAWAY</xl>
<xl>AROUND THE WORLD</xl>
//.sr h /(<h2 id='chapI' class='c\d+)/\1 nobreak/
//.de .nobreak {page-break-before: avoid}
.pm chapnb I "THE COMET"
“I wish Dave Dashaway would hurry up
here,” said Hiram Dobbs, who was for the time
being in charge of the biplane, the <i>Comet</i>.

“What’s your great anxiety, Hiram?” questioned
Elmer Brackett, reclining comfortably in
one of the spacious seats behind the pilot post
of the machine.

“Do you know that fellow with the long frock
coat over yonder—the one who looks like some
cheap sharp lawyer? There,” added Hiram,
pointing at a group near a hangar, “he’s talking
now with that fat, porpoise-looking man with
gold braid on his cap and a badge on his coat.”

“I see them,” nodded young Brackett.
“Never saw either before that I can remember.
What of them?”

“Just this,” replied the young airman, quite
seriously. “That lawyer fellow has been
rustling around like a hen on a hot griddle for
the last ten minutes. He seemed to be waiting
for someone. Then I saw that man with the
.bn 007.png
.pn +1
light fuzzy hat, and a moustache and glasses,
come in a great hurry up to him, and direct his
attention to the airship here. Just now the same
fellow pointed it out to that constable—policeman—or
whatever he is.”

“I declare!” exclaimed Elmer, with a start,
sitting up and taking notice. “Why, I know the
man with the fuzzy hat.”

“You do?”

“I am sure of it, Hiram. He is disguised, but
I certainly recognize him. That fellow is my
enemy,” and the speaker shifted around in his
seat, greatly disturbed. “Do you remember that
fellow Vernon?”

“I should say so, and I suspected it to be just
that individual all along,” explained Hiram.
“He’s made all of us trouble enough not to be
forgotten.”

“I wish Dave would come,” said Elmer, anxiously.
“It would be a terrible thing if, after
all my hopes and preparations, something should
come up to prevent my going with you on the
great airship trip around the world.”

Elmer Brackett spoke very earnestly. He
might well do so. When he referred to an
exploit that sounded like the scheme of some
visionary, his words had a tangible and sensible
business basis.
.bn 008.png
.pn +1

His companion was pretty nearly a professional
airman, and Elmer himself knew a great
deal about aircraft. His father was practically
the owner of the Interstate Aero Company.
The person they were now awaiting, Dave
Dashaway, was a youth who had won fame and
fortune in the aviation field.

Young as Dave was, this expert had pretty
nearly reached the top as a professional airman.
Those who have been introduced to him in the
first book of the present series, named “Dave
Dashaway, the Young Aviator,” will recall with
interest his first struggles to earn recognition
and a living in a line to which he was naturally
adapted. Dave Dashaway’s father had been a
scientific balloonist, and when Dave met the old
aviator, Robert King, he found a man who was
glad to help him on in his ambition to succeed
as a sky sailor.

Dave steadily and earnestly studied aeronautics
as if he was learning a trade. In the
second volume of this series, entitled “Dave
Dashaway and His Hydroplane,” the energetic
young airman won marked distinction at an aero
meet by his monoplane and hydroplane work.
His ability won the attention of a friend and
former professional associate of his father, and
the latter agreed to finance the most stupendous
aerial proposition ever attempted.
.bn 009.png
.pn +1

The result has been told in the preceding
volume of this series called, “Dave Dashaway
and His Giant Airship.” The remarkable adventures
of Dave and his friends while sailing
the mammoth airship, the <i>Albatross</i>, across the
Atlantic Ocean have there been narrated. After
the giant airship had started on its extraordinary
trip, a stowaway had been discovered—Elmer
Brackett.

It seemed that the lad had gotten into bad
company. His father was rich and he had plenty
of money, which he spent very foolishly. He
had formed the acquaintance of a clever
schemer named Vernon. This man had so enmeshed
Elmer in his toils, that he made the boy
believe that he could send him to prison, and
ruin his father’s business. All this was untrue,
but in sheer desperation, believing he had
wrecked all his chances in life, the frightened
lad had secretly stolen aboard of the <i>Albatross</i>.
In a very heroic way he had saved the crew of
the giant airship from capture by some mountain
outlaws in North Carolina, where the <i>Albatross</i>
had descended for repairs. This had made him
a welcome comrade to Dave and Hiram. When
the former returned to the United States, victor
in the great race across the Atlantic and the
possessor of a small fortune in prize money, his
first task was to hunt up the schemer, Vernon.
Dave gave the rascal to understand that if he
annoyed Elmer any further, he would find himself
in serious trouble.
.bn 010.png
.pn +1

For all that Dave Dashaway and the powerful
friends he had made did, however, Vernon
was slow to abandon his hope of fleecing his
victim out of more money. He tried to blackmail
Mr. Brackett, and even brought a suit
against the wealthy manufacturer on some notes
he had induced the son to sign under false pretences.
To get rid of him, Mr. Brackett had
finally given Vernon a sum of money to cease his
annoying persecutions. Then Vernon had disappeared,
and Dave had supposed that he was
“off the map” for good.

Elmer had acted like a new being since coming
under the healthy influence of the brisk, high-minded
young airman, Dave Dashaway, and his
ardent assistant, Hiram Dobbs. For the first
time in his life, the zest of adventure and the
ambition to make something of himself had acted
like a spur on the young fellow.

For over a month our hero, Dave, and his
two loyal comrades had led an existence of delight.
The young airman had become greatly
interested in an exploit in which he had been invited
to take part. The National Aero Association
had arranged for a wonderful novelty and
a test in the aviation field. This was nothing less
than an aeroplane race around the world.
.bn 011.png
.pn +1

The route had been marked out, the prizes
announced and the rules of the contest adopted.
Nearly half a score of contestants had registered.
In the official list there had been published a line
or two that the adventurous Hiram read proudly
a dozen times a day: “Entrant VI—the biplane
<i>Comet</i>, pilot Dave Dashaway.”

An aero meet was now in progress near the
city of Washington, which was to be the starting
point of the great race. Dave and his young
assistants had fairly lived at the plant of the
Interstate Aero Company. Every facility of the
great factory had been placed at the command
of Dave. The result had been the construction
of the <i>Comet</i>, probably the most perfect and
splendid aircraft ever built.

There was a permanent aero practice field near
the factory, and on the afternoon when our story
opens the <i>Comet</i> was ready to make its daily trial
flight. With the morrow, entirely equipped and
its crew aboard, the model biplane was to sail
across the country for Washington, to be on hand
for the start of the race around the world a few
days following.

Other skycraft were in practice or motion
about the field. Hiram and Elmer had gotten
their machine in order for a non-stop flight of
one hundred miles. They were waiting for the
arrival of Dave, when Hiram made the discovery
that upon the very eve of their grand and stimulating
star exploit, an old enemy had suddenly
appeared upon the scene.
.bn 012.png
.pn +1

Hiram Dobbs bent a keen, suspicious glance
at the three men whom he had pointed out to his
comrade. A worried look came into Elmer’s
face as he, too, watched them.

“Yes,” said the latter in an uneasy tone, but
convincedly, “one of those men is Vernon.”

“And the others are a lawyer and an officer
of the law,” added Hiram. “There’s something
afoot, Elmer. I guess what it is and—I’ll fool
them.”

“The constable is coming this way!” exclaimed
Elmer, apprehensively.

“He won’t get here quick enough,” declared
Hiram. “I see through their tricks—Vernon is
bent on having you arrested on some flimsy
charge. The scoundrel counts on the belief that
your father will pay him more money rather
than see the <i>Comet</i> delayed for the race. We’ll
disappoint him.”

The speaker shot out his hand to the wheel.
His foot was ready to depress the self-starter
button.

“All clear?” he called to the field man who
stood close by, and the latter nodded and waved
his hand.

“The constable is running towards us,” said
Elmer rapidly.
.bn 013.png
.pn +1

Chug! chug! The <i>Comet</i> rose from the
ground. Elmer Brackett uttered a great sigh of
relief. Hiram chuckled softly to himself.

“Hold on! I’ve got a warrant! In the name
of the law—ugh!”

The <i>Comet</i> gave a great sway. Its pilot
dared not relax attention to his duties, but he shot
a swift glance at the source of the outcry.

“The mischief!” uttered Hiram, in surprise
and concern.

The big bulky constable was clinging to the
machine body, his feet dangling, his face white
and scared-looking, swaying helplessly except for
his frantic hand-hold fifty feet above the ground!
.bn 014.png
.pn +1
.pm chap II "AN INVOLUNTARY PASSENGER"
Dave Dashaway’s assistant knew his business
too well to attempt any rash or reckless change
in the course of the biplane. At a glance Hiram
had taken in the situation. In a flash he gave the
right order.

“Help him—pull him in,” he directed.

“Yes, he’ll smash the wing and we’ll all go
down in a heap if he hangs on there,” declared
Elmer, quickly.

“Let me off! Let me off!” puffed and panted
the constable. “Help! I’ll drop! Murder! I’m
a goner!”

“Easy, officer!” cried out Hiram, in his clear,
ringing tones. “Don’t get rattled or you’ll be
gone, indeed.”

Elmer had grasped the arm of the clinging
man. He had strapped himself into his seat, and
this position assisted in giving him a tugging
strength that counted for something. The white,
scared face of the constable came nearer and
.bn 015.png
.pn +1
nearer to him. Through great efforts the trespasser
was hauled up over his center of balance,
and he tumbled into the vacant seat all in a
heap.

“Let down this balloon! I’ve got a
warrant,” began the constable, breathlessly—“oogh!”

A whirl of the biplane sent the man banging
against the side of the seat till his teeth rattled.

“Strap him in,” called out Hiram, “if he don’t
want to get a spill.”

“Oh, my! Stop! Please stop! Let me
out!”

Meantime Elmer had snapped the belt in
place. It was well that he had acted speedily.
The <i>Comet</i> made a switch just there which
caused the involuntary passenger to tremble with
terror, yell outright, and crouch back in his seat.

Hiram directed a smooth volplane and made
an even spurt of speed on a set level. This gave
the intruder a chance to steady his nerves and
regain his breath. He was still, however, big-eyed
and chattering. The young pilot dared not
direct attention from his task of running the
machine, but he managed to turn his face sideways
so as to give Elmer a significant glance.
The latter half smiled as he understood what
was on the programme.
.bn 016.png
.pn +1

“Now, see here, officer,” spoke Hiram, past
his shoulder, “I can’t give you any further attention
than to tell you what to do. If the machine
tips——”

“Is there danger?” gasped the overcome
constable. “Say, please go down! Easy, you
know! P-please-p—please!”

“You had better show some sense,” retorted
Hiram, with pretended sternness. “There is always
danger of a spill. Don’t help it any.”

“N-no, I won’t,” chattered the officer. “I—I’ll
do just what you tell me.”

“Then sit still and keep still. Elmer, get him
into that airman armor. He’s pretty bulky, and
if we take a flop——”

“Br-rr-r!” shivered the unfortunate passenger.
“Oh, don’t talk about it!”

“Get the aerodrome safety helmet on him,”
pursued Hiram. “It will save his head if he
tumbles.”

“Say, I don’t want to! You’ve got to stop!
I’m an officer of the law and I order you to
lower this balloon.”

“You want to drop, do you?” called back
Hiram, “All right, if you say so, only——”

“No! no! no!” fairly bellowed the constable,
as the pilot described a manœuvre pretty near to
accomplishing a “shoot-the-chutes” dive in
aviation. “You know best. I’ll do as you say.”
.bn 017.png
.pn +1

He allowed Elmer to fasten on the helmet as
the machine steadied. It made his big shock-haired
head look bigger than ever.

“Now then, the felt safety buffers,” directed
Hiram, and his willing accomplice bundled the
passenger in between two thick pads covering
chest and shoulders like a wad of pillows.

“He’d better have the earflaps and respirators
if you’re going up into the rarefied air,” suggested
Elmer, solicitously.

“Don’t go! Say, I’m not well! This air is
good enough for me,” remonstrated the constable.

“Now for the non-concussion girdle,” ordered
the merciless pilot.

Elmer was almost bursting with suppressed
merriment. He was so sure that Hiram knew
his business and that no real danger was imminent
in that calm air with a perfect head
breeze, that he enjoyed the occasion immensely.

By this time their frantic fellow passenger
resembled a diver, swathed as he was in thick
leather safety devices crowned with steel.
Muffled up and helpless, he squirmed, groaned
and closed his eyes with a sickening shudder
every time he glanced over the edge of the machine.
The unusual sight of the earth fading
away, the swift passage of the landscape, fairly
chilled him.
.bn 018.png
.pn +1

For five or ten minutes the passenger was content
to remain mute, trying to realize and become
accustomed to his unexpected condition. The
machine had a duplicate control system. That is,
the rudder wires ran to the right hand second
seat as well as to that of the pilot. This made it
possible for Hiram to confine his attention exclusively
to spark and throttle control, while his
assistant could cooperate as to the steering gear
whenever the tail trailed heavily. Elmer, too,
could cooperate in the aileron and elevator control,
and the flight settled down to a smooth, perfect
rush through the atmosphere.

“Ahem,” ventured their passenger as he regained
his scattered wits. He spoke in a vague,
uncertain tone. “I told you that I had a warrant
and I want to explain—whew!”

Hiram Dobbs was bound to shut off the passenger
from any official complication of matters.
His eye had been fixed to a row of hills ten miles
distant. He had marked out his course and he
had a definite destination in view. Just now he
stirred up the officer considerably with a new
joggling twist of the machine, just as he had
planned to do. The fright of the constable was
renewed. He forgot what he had started to
say.

“What’s the programme?” whispered Elmer,
bending over close to the ear of the pilot.
.bn 019.png
.pn +1

“I want to get you to a point of safety before
that fellow has a chance to read that warrant of
his,” was the low-toned reply.

“I see; but how are you going to work it?”
questioned Elmer, in some perplexity.

“Leave that to me,” returned Hiram, in a
confident way.

“Yes, I’m going to.”

“I want to get beyond the ridge ahead—in
fact, as far away from our starting point as I
can.”

“I want to explain,” here again broke in their
passenger. “I’ve got a document here——”

There he stopped. Hiram had to laugh and
Elmer chuckled. The constable made several ineffectual
efforts to reach a pocket in his coat. The
muffling devices he wore prevented him. He was
like a man encased in a suit of armor.

“Never mind the document,” said Hiram.
“Just tell us what it’s about.”

“It’s a warrant, and it charges this young man
with trespassing on the property of a farmer with
an airship. The complainant has a legal right,
<i>ipse dixit</i>, to claim malicious intent, which makes
it a criminal offense.”

“I thought so. Pretty flimsy,” remarked
Hiram. “They’ve raked up some trifle to give
that miserable Vernon an excuse to keep you in
court for a week or more. All right officer,” he
added, “read your warrant.”
.bn 020.png
.pn +1

“How can I read it when I can’t get my hands
with these pesky things on them anywhere near
my pocket?” demanded the constable, wrathily.

“Very well, then don’t say I obstructed the law
by refusing you your rights.”

“When you land I’ll read the warrant,” explained
the constable. “This boy has got to
come with me. It’s defiance of law to refuse.”

“We will land very soon now,” promised
Hiram. “Whisper, Elmer.”

The skillful pilot worked the exhaust purposely
to cover a quick undertoned interview with his
friend. There was a perfect understanding between
them by the time the colloquy was concluded.

“All right,” said Elmer simply, and with a
satisfied expression on his face, as he sank back
in his seat.

The young air pilot skirted a great grove of
trees and flew the <i>Comet</i> high above a range of
hills beyond. Then, near a little town with a
railroad depot showing in its midst, he prepared
to descend.

Hiram made a thrilling dive that nearly sent
the constable into hysterics. The <i>Comet</i> reached
the ground and settled down upon it as safely
and gracefully as a bird sinking to its nest.

“Jump out,” he said simply, to Elmer.

The latter unbuckled the seat belt promptly
and leaped to the ground beside the machine.

“Hold on! Stop!” shouted the constable.
.bn 021.png
.pn +1

Elmer showed no disposition to run away. He
only walked briskly up and down, stamping his
feet and exercising his arms.

“That boy is under arrest,” continued the officer,
struggling with his burden of wraps.

“Not quite yet, officer, I fancy,” retorted
Hiram.

“Well, he will be soon as I get out and read
my warrant. I order you to help me, young man.
If you refuse, I shall complain of your aiding
and abetting a criminal to escape.”

“Bah!” cried Hiram, “you know as well as
I do that he is no criminal. Here,” and he assisted
his passenger in getting rid of the hampering
devices. “I’ll help you.”

With a great snort of relief the bulky officer
stepped to the ground. His first act was to shake
his cramped limbs. Then he fished in his pockets
for the warrant.

“In the name of the law,” he began with assumed
dignity, producing a folded document.

“Hold on,” challenged Hiram, “what are you
up to?”

“I’m going to arrest one Elmer Brackett.”

“I think not,” retorted Hiram, coolly. “It
seems you’ve forgotten something rather important,
Mr. Officer.”

“What’s that?” snorted the constable.

“We have landed just over the state line and
your warrant is no good in this locality.”
.bn 022.png
.pn +1
.pm chap III "ON THE WING"
The constable stared at Hiram. He glanced
at Elmer with half a scowl. Then he rubbed his
head as if seeking for new ideas. Finally a sort
of sickly grin overspread his flabby face.

“You’d make a good lawyer,” he observed.
“Over the state line I am, sure enough, with no
warrant served. Well, I’m not so sorry as you
may think.”

“I’m glad to hear you say so,” declared Hiram.
“You’ll be glad, too, when you come to know that
the man behind the gun in this case is an unmitigated
rascal.”

“I didn’t know anything about that, I simply
followed orders,” said the official, in a slightly
apologetic tone.

“Well, good-bye, officer, I suppose I can go?”
broke in Elmer.

“I shan’t hinder you. Only keep out of my
territory.”
.bn 023.png
.pn +1

Elmer exchanged a look of mutual understanding
with Hiram, and walked slowly away. He
soon disappeared beyond a little thicket, heading
in the direction of the town and the railroad
station.

“Well, officer?” spoke up Hiram, moving
about the biplane to see that everything was in
order.

“Well, lad,” returned the constable, “I suppose
it’s in order for me to get back home after
this fool’s errand.”

“I’ll be glad to take you back with me,” said
Hiram.

“Humph!” and the constable shrugged his
shoulders in a dubious way. “I’m safe on the
ground once more, thank goodness; and I reckon
I’ll stay here.”

“Oh, come ahead in the machine,” invited the
young pilot. “No capers, officer, honestly. I
had to do some gliding to make you forget business
till my friend was over the safety line, but
I’ll take you home steady as a Pullman, I promise
you.”

“No diver’s suit, though, mind you.”

“That isn’t necessary,” laughed Hiram.
“Just strap yourself in and I’ll give you a nice
ride.”

By the time they got back to the aero grounds
the constable was as friendly as could be. He
shook hands good-bye with Hiram, and winked
at him and chuckled to himself as he walked over
.bn 024.png
.pn +1
to where the lawyer-like man and the disguised
Vernon stood waiting for him. They evidently
had seen the <i>Comet</i> returning and had hastened
to the grounds to hear the news.

Hiram lingered, watching the group until they
disappeared. Dave Dashaway came out of the
hangar as the assistants ran the biplane towards
it.

Bright as a dollar, looking every inch the active,
ambitious fellow his friends called him, the young
airman regarded his assistant inquiringly and expectantly.

“You didn’t wait for me,” observed Dave.

“No, I was in a hurry,” laughed Hiram. “I
suppose you know what was doing?”

“I’ve heard something about a warrant for
Elmer. I’ve guessed out the plot. Mr. Brackett
was here, quite worried.”

“He needn’t be,” declared Hiram, reassuringly.
“There he is now. It’s all right, Mr.
Brackett,” added Hiram, advancing to meet the
wealthy manufacturer. “They didn’t get Elmer,
and, what’s more, they won’t get him very soon.”

Dave Dashaway led the way into the little
portable house adjoining the <i>Comet</i> hangar
where the boys slept nights. All sat down on
camp stools.

“I hope this new trouble is not going to disturb
your plans,” spoke Mr. Brackett.
.bn 025.png
.pn +1

“Not a bit of it,” replied Hiram. “Elmer is
safely out of the way, and everything is arranged
to keep that miscreant, Vernon, from annoying
him.”

Hiram recounted all that had transpired. The
cloud of uneasiness passed from the brow of the
president of the Interstate Aero Company. He
smiled approvingly at the keen-witted narrator.

“Elmer will take a train and go right on to
an arranged rendezvous,” explained Hiram.
“He will be on hand for the start, Mr. Brackett.”

“I shall start for Washington,” announced the
manufacturer. “I want to see the <i>Comet</i> begin
the big race in which I feel Dashaway and his
friends will win new laurels.”

“Thank you for your confidence in us,” said
the young airman. “I expect to deserve it.
There’s a reason—you have given us a biplane
that is a marvel.”

“Yes,” declared Hiram, enthusiastically,
“there will be nothing in the field that can even
begin to compare with the <i>Comet</i>.”

Our hero and his assistant spent some time going
over the splendid piece of mechanism, after
Mr. Brackett had gone away. The highest skill
had been employed in the construction of the
<i>Comet</i>. From barograph to breeches buoy it was
as nearly perfect and thoroughly equipped as
money and intelligence could make it.
.bn 026.png
.pn +1

The biplane was of original design. It had a
tube mechanism and universal bearing that were
entirely new in the aviation field. The arrangements
for gasoline, oil and water had been the
main consideration. The capacity for carrying
extra weight the second. The coverings were
rubberized fabric, the machine had the very newest
shock absorbers, and the double-control system
admitted of a manipulation that not only
divided the operation work, but added to the
safety of navigation.

As to the superb balancing and self-righting
powers of the <i>Comet</i>, the boys had demonstrated
these merits only the day previous. With a
ripping crash the machine had entered the perimeter
of a corkscrew glide. Dave found the tilt
so steep there seemed no chance to come out of
the spiral. Hiram, in the second seat, by a deft,
quick operation of the rudder control, changed
the equilibrium. Dave did the rest, and the
<i>Comet</i> passed a hair-breadth ground swoop
clean as an acrobat.

On account of the long flights necessary, probable
landings in desert spots far from civilization,
and the menace of supplies giving out, the <i>Comet</i>
had been constructed of a weight, breadth and
length that would admit of the utilization of a
so-called ballast pit. This was located directly
behind the seats. It was compactly filled at the
.bn 027.png
.pn +1
present time, all ready for the start scheduled for
a few days later. With every article cared for,
and after a close calculation of the effect of dislodgment
and replacement, the young aviator in
command of the machine felt that he had
mastered most of the details of the prospective
trip around the world.

Before Mr. Brackett had left them, he had
made arrangements to join them at the aero meet
at Sylvan Park, near Washington. There were
some final details of the journey to arrange for
after they reached the aviation field. So far as
their present situation was concerned, however,
the <i>Comet</i> was all ready for the flight.

The sky was clear, the stars shone brightly and
there was a gentle breeze entirely favorable to
them, as, about ten o’clock the <i>Comet</i> was
quietly rolled out of the hangar. The young airman
purposely evaded any publicity as to their
start on account of Elmer and his enemies. The
two assistants waved them a hearty adieu, but
stirred up no commotion. Within five minutes
the splendid piece of mechanism was speeding on
its way for a point fifty miles distant.

“At Fordham, you said,” remarked Dave, as
they settled down to an even course of progress.

“Yes, just beyond the town. We all know the
town, it’s right in our course—and I thought that
the best place to have Elmer wait for us.”
.bn 028.png
.pn +1

The <i>Comet</i> passed over half a dozen quaint
little villages. Then it followed the railroad
tracks, the signal lights operating as guides.
They knew Fordham, because they had made several
trial spurts to and from the place. They
passed its rows of street lights, slowed down, and
the <i>Comet</i> reached <i>terra firma</i> inside of the town
baseball grounds.

“Hello!” at once hailed them, and Elmer
came forward from a seat on the bleachers,
where he had been resting. “Everything all
right?”

“As a trivet,” pronounced Hiram. “Been a
slow wait; eh?”

“Oh, I snoozed a little,” replied Elmer;
“lunched some, and had a hard time explaining
my being here to a suspicious old watchman who
looks after the grounds.”

“Get aboard,” directed Dave, and Elmer sank
into the seat with a contented sigh.

“It’s business now, I suppose,” he remarked.
“Say, fellows, it’s a big thing we hope to do;
isn’t it?”

“Yes,” assented the sprightly Hiram; “and
I reckon we’ll have seen some startling sights before
we come this way again.”
.bn 029.png
.pn +1
.pm chap IV "A MYSTERIOUS VISITOR"
Dave Dashaway stood at the entrance to the
hangar of the <i>Comet</i> at Sylvan Park. The machine
had done nobly on the trial field near the
Capitol city. Now it was housed among the
group of competitors in the great race. The
pick of the world’s best airmen was represented
at this international meet, and the scene was one
of activity and interest.

The airship boys were comfortably housed in
the living tent just beyond the hangar. At first
upon arriving it had been decided to have Elmer
stay away from the field until the final start was
made. This procedure was actuated by the fear
that the troublesome Vernon might put in an appearance
and continue to annoy and hamper the
young airman. The next morning, however, Mr.
Brackett arrived.

“I am here for two reasons,” he had announced.
“First, I wish to see our last word in
biplanes, the <i>Comet</i>, sail off on the race I know
.bn 030.png
.pn +1
you are going to win. Next, I want to be on hand
if that troublesome Vernon tries any more of his
tricks.”

“I hardly think he will attempt to follow us
this far,” was the expressed opinion of our hero.
“It would cost him some money, and it would be
somewhat dangerous for him to work any
trumped-up charge with so many of our airmen
friends around to defeat his plans.”

“There is still more than that,” remarked the
airship manufacturer, in a confident way.

“What do you mean, father?” inquired his
son.

“Just this,” answered Mr. Brackett, “as I left
home my lawyer, who was looking up Vernon,
put in my possession some documents that will
enable me to baffle this wretch at every turn. I
only hope he will appear. It will be to receive
a final quietus, believe me.”

The big event was now only three days distant.
The <i>Comet</i> was in perfect shape for its long
flight. The boys had used prevision and judgment
in all their preparations; and had not really
much to do. Dave, however, was kept pretty
busy with a constant stream of visitors. Professional
and otherwise, those who had seen descriptions
of their splendid machine in the public
prints were eager to view that work of mechanical
perfection. A group of them were now gathered
inside the shelter building. Experts were examining
and admiring the <i>Comet</i>.
.bn 031.png
.pn +1

It pleased Mr. Brackett to exhibit this last
masterpiece from the Interstate Aero Company’s
factory. As a strictly passenger carrying biplane
it had never been equalled. Mr. Brackett showed
all its improvements, from the new chain drive
apparatus to the high pitch revolution screws.
The original model of the <i>Comet</i> had represented
a machine weighing over one thousand five hundred
pounds with a spread of thirty-eight by sixty-three
and one-half feet, pitch speed five thousand
six hundred feet, average flight record fifty miles.
The old style rear propeller drive had been supplanted
by tractor screws. The tubing truss underneath
the center section and skid bracing also
in the rib or plane section was a new feature. A
divergence from the popular headless screw traction
design was the use of the Curwell type of outriggers.
This did away with an attachment at
the end of a monoplane type of fuselage.

It was almost dusk when the visitors began to
depart. Dave was giving orders to two of the
hangar men to lock up the machine for the
night, when an automobile drew rapidly up to the
spot. As the young aviator glanced casually at
the machine, he saw that besides the chauffeur it
contained a veiled, girlish form.
.bn 032.png
.pn +1

The chauffeur stopped the machine directly before
the living tent. He leaped from the auto
and approached Mr. Brackett, who was standing
near by.

“Can you direct me to the <i>Comet</i> hangar?”
he inquired, touching his cap politely.

“This is the place,” explained the manufacturer.

“And Mr. Dave Dashaway—do you know
where I can find him?”

The young airman overheard this conversation.
He stepped forward at once with the words:

“I am Dave Dashaway. What can I do for
you?”

The chauffeur moved aside with a movement
of his head towards the automobile. Its occupant
leaned slightly forward, and extended a
daintily gloved hand. As Dave advanced and
lifted his cap she spoke to him in a low, tremulous
tone.

“I wish to speak to you for a few moments,
Mr. Dashaway,” she said. “In private,” she
added, with a glance at the several persons in
view.

“Certainly,” responded Dave readily, but in
some wonderment. “There is our office, miss.
May I assist you?”

The little lady uttered a fluttering sigh as our
hero helped her from the machine and led the
way to the living tent. Hiram had just lighted
.bn 033.png
.pn +1
a lamp. Both he and Elmer regarded their
friend’s companion in some surprise. They were
too well bred, however, to stare at the newcomer,
who seemed timid and uncertain. The boys
moved quietly from the tent, Dave set a stool for
his visitor and seated himself at a little distance,
awaiting her pleasure.

“You must not think it strange that I have
come to you, Mr. Dashaway,” she said. “I—that
is, I was directed to you by a very close
friend, who knows you well.”

“Ah, indeed?” spoke the young airman.

“Yes, I bring you a letter from a friend of
my dear father, who is as well a close friend of
your own—Mr. Robert King.”

“I am pleased and interested at once, Miss,”
said Dave, trying to set the young lady at her ease
under such strange surroundings. “Mr. King
is, indeed, a close friend, and his friends are very
welcome.”

“You are most kind,” said the visitor, nervously
searching for the letter in question, and in
her confusion lifting her veil. From her face
Dave saw that she was about his own age. There
was an anxious look in her eyes. She finally
found the letter, and handed it to the young airman
with the explanation:

“We went to Mr. King where he is sick at his
home in New York City.”
.bn 034.png
.pn +1

“Yes, I know,” said Dave. “He wrote me
only last week.”

“I am Edna Deane,” proceeded the young
lady. “My father is himself something of an
invalid and could not come with me to-day. We
went to Mr. King to ask his help in a case where
he only, or somebody like him, could be of any
assistance.”

“You mean in the aviation way?” inquired
Dave, getting interested.

“Yes, Mr. Dashaway,” replied the young girl.
“I want my father to explain to you about it.
He has written our address on the envelope—Hampton
Flats. He wishes to have you make an
appointment to meet him, if you will be so kind.”

“I certainly shall be glad to be of service to
any friends of the gentleman who taught me all
I know about sky sailing,” began Dave, and then
he added very heartily: “Surely I will come, Miss
Deane. To-morrow morning, if you wish. Shall
we say at ten o’clock? I have some few things
to attend to that will take up my time until
then.”

“My father will be very glad,” murmured the
girl, gratefully.

A glance at the letter from the veteran aviator,
Mr. King, had at once influenced Dave. The
old airman wrote briefly, but to the point. He
stated, that were he in shape to do so, he would
.bn 035.png
.pn +1
at once assist Mr. Deane. He asked his former
assistant to act in his place, could he at all arrange
to do so. Mr. King hinted that there was an
opportunity for a great humane act. He said he
was sure that when Dave knew its details, his
generous heart would respond to an unusual appeal
for help in a strangely pathetic case.

Meantime Hiram and Elmer had strolled to a
distance. They passed Mr. Brackett, who was
seeing to it that the hangar men safely housed
his pet biplane for the night. Hiram looked
curiously at his companion.

“Well,” he observed, “sort of mysterious, Elmer;
eh?”

“You mean that young lady?”

“I do. Automobile—mysterious veiled visitor,”
said Hiram with a smile.

“Maybe it’s another of those venturesome college
girls wanting to make a flight for the name
of it. Dave will tell us when he sees us. No
nonsense about him. He’s too busy for romance.”

“That’s so. There she goes, Elmer,” announced
Hiram.

The boys made out Dave, cap in hand, walking
beside the automobile as it started up slowly, and
conversing with its occupant. Then, curious and
eager to learn the merits of the interesting episode,
they proceeded towards the living tent,
.bn 036.png
.pn +1
approaching it by a roundabout route so as not
to look as if they were “snooping around,” as
Hiram put it.

Just as they neared it, Elmer grasped the arm
of his companion, bringing him to a halt with a
startling: “S—st!”

“What is it?” demanded Hiram, staring ahead
in the direction in which the glance of his companion
was fixed.

“Look for yourself,” whispered back Elmer,
pointing to a crouching figure just behind the tent.
“See—a man, a lurker, a spy! Who do you
suppose he is; and what is he up to?”
.bn 037.png
.pn +1
.pm chap V "SOMETHING WRONG"
The boys stood perfectly still. The crouching
man had not heard them coming nor did he see
them now. He half rested on one elbow and one
knee, close up to the end of the tent. It looked
as if he had been posted there for some time, as
if peering into the tent through some break in the
canvas and listening to what had been spoken inside.

Just now he was guardedly looking past the
corner of the tent and following Dave and the
automobile with his eyes. It was fast getting
dark, but the glint of the headlight of the auto
as it turned towards the entrance to the grounds
swept over him, and Elmer gave a great start.

“Why,” he spoke suddenly, “Hiram, it’s that
man—Vernon!”

“You don’t say so,” returned Hiram. “Are
you sure of it?”

“Yes, I am,” declared Elmer, in a disturbed
way. “He is after me again, and may make
all kinds of new trouble for us.”
.bn 038.png
.pn +1

“He won’t,” asserted Hiram, with a quick
snap of his lips, and the old farmer-boy fight and
determination in his face. “Get ready to help
me.”

“What are you going to do?” inquired Elmer,
as his companion began to roll up his coat cuffs.

“I’m going to nail that fellow, good and sure,”
pronounced Hiram. “Maybe your father would
like to see him. Now then!”

Hiram made a spring. He landed on the
shoulders of the crouching figure, Elmer close at
his heels. The unsuspecting spy went flat, the
nimble Hiram astride of him.

“What are you up to, and who are you?” demanded
Hiram. “You needn’t tell,” he added
swiftly, as his prisoner squirmed about and his
face came into view. “You’re that mean rascal
Vernon, and we’re going to know what you are
plotting this time before we let you go. Grab
him, Elmer.”

Each seized an arm of the squirming captive.
Hiram arose to his feet without letting Vernon
go, although the latter struggled fiercely. He
managed to break the grasp of Elmer, but Hiram
held on to him—would have held on to him if he
had dragged him all over the field.

“What’s this?” cried Mr. Brackett, attracted
to the spot by the noise of the struggle. Then
he recognized Vernon. “Ah, it’s you is it?” he
.bn 039.png
.pn +1
said, bending his brows at the prisoner. “I have
something to say to you,” and he seized the man
by his coat collar and assisted Hiram in dragging
him around to the front of the tent.

“Oh, you have?” sneered Vernon, ceasing to
struggle as he found his efforts in that direction
vain. “Well, you want to say it quick and short.”

“What are you doing around here?” demanded
the aeroplane manufacturer, sternly.

“What do you suppose?” retorted the schemer
boldly, thinking brag and bluster only would
serve him now. “I’m in the market with information,
and you had better buy it.”

“You sit there,” ordered Mr. Brackett, forcing
the miscreant upon a stool with the gesture of disgust.
Then he motioned to Hiram and Elmer
to guard the doorway and sat down facing the
captive. “You have gone to the last length, my
man, in persecuting my son. There is not a
vestige of accusation against him that you can
press legally.”

“Oh, I think I can make you a little uneasy,”
boasted the conscienceless one.

“We shall see. It is only a few days since
my lawyer reported to me the facts of an investigation
into your career. I have a few questions
to ask you. After that, I fancy you will be glad
to get away from us and stay away in the future.”
.bn 040.png
.pn +1

“Oh, is that so?” said Vernon, coldly.

“My lawyer has placed certain documents and
information in my hands,” continued Mr. Brackett.
“One of them,” and he reached into his
pocket and produced a photograph, “is a picture
of a man who served a prison term. Do you
recognize it?” and the speaker held up the photograph
full in the lamp light.

Vernon changed color. He quaked and
wriggled about, but he was silent, for it was his
own portrait, in prison garb.

“How far the word of a convict will go against
that of my son, whom you duped into signing
notes he could not pay, and which I will never
pay, for no consideration was involved, I do not
know,” proceeded the aeroplane manufacturer.
“I do know, however, that you dare not make
another move. This document,” and he showed
a folded paper, “describes you as the man who
is wanted in Boston for forfeiting a bail bond.
I have only to send word to the authorities there
of your whereabouts to have you shut up for
some time to come. Now go. If I so much as
hear of your hanging around this vicinity, I will
telegraph to the people who are searching for
you.”

Mr. Brackett pointed to the doorway. Vernon
arose and like a whipped cur slunk through it.
An expression of relief crossed Elmer Brackett’s
face.
.bn 041.png
.pn +1

“I only hope we are rid of him for good,” he
said, fervently.

“There seems to be no doubt of that,” declared
Hiram, with a satisfied smile. “Say,
though, I wonder why he was sneaking around
the hangar here?”

“To pick up what information he could about
our plans, to disturb them if he could, I suppose,”
said Elmer.

Just then Dave appeared. His friends noticed
that he was somewhat thoughtful. No one
alluded to the visit of the girl whom the young
aviator had just escorted to the automobile.
Dave did not seem to have any explanations to
make. The others told him about the discovery
of Vernon and his summary disappearance.
Then the incident was dismissed from their
minds as they all went over to the restaurant at
the other end of the big aviation grounds for
supper.

Dave told his young assistants that he had an
engagement in the city the next morning. There
were some little purchases to make for the <i>Comet</i>,
and he took Hiram along with him.

“I am going to call upon the friends of the
young lady you saw last evening, Hiram,” he
confided to his friend. “They live at the Hampton
Flats,” and he gave Hiram the location. “If
you like, after you get through with your shopping
you can call there for me. Then we can go back
to the park together.”
.bn 042.png
.pn +1

“All right,” assented Hiram, “I shan’t be
busy for more than an hour.”

It was about eleven o’clock when Hiram
started for the Hampton Flats. He finally
turned into the street where the building was
located. As he neared it, a man came hurriedly
down its steps, passed down the street, and disappeared
from view around the corner.

“Well, I’ll be bumped!” exclaimed Hiram,
forcibly.

He came to a dead stop, irresolute as to the
course he ought to pursue. Hiram had recognized
the man as Vernon. He wondered how
the rascal came to be in the building where his
airman friend was.

“Why, he’s nagging Dave, that’s sure,” declared
Hiram. “But why? It won’t do any
good to run after him. I must tell Dave about it,
though, and—there he is now.”

The young aviator appeared at just that
moment. He looked up and down the street and
then advanced towards Hiram as he made him
out. The latter fancied he had never seen Dave
look so grave and thoughtful, but our hero
roused up into instant interest as Hiram said:

“I saw Vernon come out of that building just
before you did.”
.bn 043.png
.pn +1

“What’s that!” challenged Dave. “Out of
that building?”

“Yes, he did, Dave. Now what do you suppose
he was doing there?”

The young airman did not reply. He walked
along in silence. Hiram saw that he was a good
deal stirred up, but all Dave said about the
incident was:

“I’m glad you discovered this, Hiram, and
told me about it. We want to look out for that
fellow.”

All that day, Hiram noticed that the pilot of the
<i>Comet</i> seemed to be preoccupied. The hum and
bustle of the approaching event, however, took
up the attention of all hands. They had a busy
day of it, and Hiram was so tired out by nightfall
that he had well-nigh forgotten all about
the unexplained incident of the earlier hours of
the day.

Just after daylight the next morning Elmer
stirred on his sleeping cot and drowsily cried
out:

“What’s up? I thought I heard some one
call for Dave.”

“You did,” replied Hiram, jumping from
under the bedclothes. “I just roused up to see
one of the hangar men scurrying out of here, and
Dave, half dressed, rushing after him. Hurry
up, get your clothes on.”
.bn 044.png
.pn +1

“What for?” inquired Elmer, sitting up in
his cot and rubbing his eyes sleepily.

“Because I caught a remark the hangar man
made.”

“What was it?”

“‘Something wrong with the <i>Comet</i>!’”
.bn 045.png
.pn +1
.pm chap VI "THE STOLEN BIPLANE"
The alarming words spoken by Hiram were
sufficient to at once bring Elmer out of bed and
onto his feet. Speedy as Elmer was, however,
Hiram was outside, shoeless and hatless, almost
before his drowsy companion had drawn on his
sweater.

“What’s the trouble?” panted Elmer, trailing
after his companion a minute later.

His eyes grew big with wonder and suspense
as he noticed Dave and the hangar man running
around to the rear of the portable biplane shelter.
In front he saw Hiram posed like a statue and
staring hard.

“The <i>Comet</i> is gone!” announced Hiram.
“Look there—gone!”

He spoke in a tone of voice as if the whole
world was slipping away from them. Elmer,
gaining his side, saw that the hangar was empty.

“Oh, say!” he gasped, “you don’t mean to
say——”
.bn 046.png
.pn +1

“Stolen? Yes! That is sure,” came in Dave’s
tones, and the young aviator hurried around to
the spot.

“You see, whoever took it drew the steel
frames and canvas out of the whole back,” the
hangar man was explaining. “The wheel marks
yonder run about twenty feet. Whoever did it
knew his business. There was no wasted fooling
around—up and away was the programme.”

Dave stood silent, thinking hard. Elmer came
up to him, worried and anxious. By this time
Hiram had got full steam of excitement on.

“See here, Dave,” he cried, “what is this—a
trick, or something serious?”

“It’s pretty serious,” answered the young airman.
“Whoever ran away with the <i>Comet</i> had
a bad motive in view—I feel certain of that.”

“You mean, to keep us from making the start
in the race?” inquired Elmer, anxiously.

“Just that,” assented Dave, positively. “No
ordinary thief would steal the biplane, for he
couldn’t sell it. Professionals do not meddle with
other people’s machines. I’ve got a lot of suspicions
about this mysterious piece of business,
but there’s no time to lose in theorizing.”

“No, we must get on the track of the <i>Comet</i>
right away,” declared Hiram, adding, “but
how?”
.bn 047.png
.pn +1

Dave gave a few rapid, undertoned directions
to the hangar man. Then he hurried back to the
living tent, followed by his friends, and all completed
dressing. Then, Dave piloting the way,
they made a brisk run for the office building of
the club in control of the meet.

The young airman was lucky in running across
the manager, a man who knew his business
thoroughly. Inside of an hour, with his perfect
knowledge of details, he had telegraphed every
aviator and practice station in the East to be on
the watch for the stolen machine. Dave was
leaving the office building when they met Mr.
Brackett.

“Oh, father!” exclaimed his son, in distress,
“the <i>Comet</i> has been stolen!”

The aeroplane manufacturer was stunned by
the announcement. Dave motioned him instantly
to one side. Hiram’s heart took hope as he noted
the business-like look on Dave’s face.

“He’s got some plan worked out already,” announced
Hiram to Elmer. “Dave isn’t telling
us all he has guessed out.”

Whatever information the young airman was
imparting to Mr. Brackett, the latter seemed
greatly interested, and his troubled face cleared
somewhat as Dave proceeded. Soon the manufacturer
hurried away. Dave consulted his watch
and came briskly up to his young fellow aviators.

“There’s just time to get our breakfast,” he
announced.
.bn 048.png
.pn +1

The boys had about completed the meal, when
an automobile drove up in front of the
restaurant and the aeroplane manufacturer got
out. Dave hurried to his side. There was a
brief consultation, and our hero beckoned to his
friends.

“You had better come with me, Hiram,” said
the young aviator; “I shall need you. If you
will keep track of things around the hangar,
Elmer, it will help out.”

Dave waved his hand to the manufacturer and
his son, and told Hiram to jump into the seat
beside him. They made a quick spin for the office
of the manager. The young airman came out
with several telegrams in his hand. He read
these over carefully while his companion was
cranking the machine. Then he thrust them into
his pocket and took charge of the wheel.

“Say,” began Hiram, as they left the aero
grounds and started down a lonely country
road; “tell me are you going on a hunt for the
<i>Comet</i>?”

“Yes,” replied the young airman. “I don’t
know that there is much chance of running down
the people who stole the biplane, but they can’t
sail far without being reported.”

“What is their object in stealing it, anyhow?”
asked Hiram.
.bn 049.png
.pn +1

“If you want my honest opinion, I think they
are trying to keep us out of the race,” replied
Dave.

“Oh!” exclaimed his companion, “then you
think it’s professionals who are at the bottom of
this mischief?”

“It was certainly an expert airman who piloted
the <i>Comet</i> away so snugly,” declared Dave. “I
believe, though, that he was hired by others.”

“Why, Dave, what do you mean?” inquired
the puzzled Hiram.

“I can’t explain everything to you just now,”
replied Dave. “I am not trying to throw any air
of mystery about this strange disappearance of
the <i>Comet</i>, but you remember telling me about
seeing that schemer, Vernon, come out of the
Hampton Flats in the city?”

“Why, yes,” assented Hiram, with a start of
enlightenment.

“Well, I have reason to believe that he is
mixed up with this affair.”

“You don’t say so! Bound to bother the
Bracketts to the last limit, is he?”

“No, I believe his motives lead in an entirely
different direction this time,” replied Dave, but
he would say no more on the topic just then.
He resumed: “Of course, we must find the
<i>Comet</i> by this time to-morrow, or start in the
race with another machine.”
.bn 050.png
.pn +1

“Oh, then we’ll go anyway?” asked Hiram,
brightening up. “Say, that’s great!” and he
uttered an immense sigh of relief.

“Mr. Brackett has telegraphed for the
<i>Zephyr</i>, which is at Baltimore,” explained Dave.
“It will be on the grounds before night.”

“Have you any clue as to what has become of
the <i>Comet</i>?” asked Hiram.

“I have a very strong theory,” replied the
young aviator. “Whoever made away with the
<i>Comet</i> did not venture to fly north—too many
machines were on their way to the meet, and they
would be seen. The manager wired in every direction.
An unknown airship was sighted twice,
early this morning, both times about fifty miles
from Washington, going southwest and making
for the mountain districts.”

“What do you guess from that, Dave?” inquired
Hiram, eagerly.

“I think they are trying to hide or lose the
<i>Comet</i> until it is too late to start in the race. Of
course, hopeless as it may seem, we must try and
recover the machine.”

“Yes, the <i>Zephyr</i> cannot begin to compare
with our special machine,” said Hiram.

“Besides that,” added Dave, “I hope to find
out who ran away with the biplane. If Vernon
is indeed back of it, that discovery would throw
a good deal of light on a certain subject in which
I am greatly interested at the present time.”
.bn 051.png
.pn +1

Hiram was prudently silent. He wondered to
himself, however, if the subject at which his companion
hinted had anything to do with the young
lady in the automobile and Dave’s visit to the
Hampton Flats.

It was about eleven o’clock when the young airman
stopped at a town named Wayne. He made
a second stop at a little settlement ten miles beyond.
The automobile had now gotten well in
among the hills, and the scenery had grown wilder
and wilder.

“Some airship passed over here just before
daylight this morning,” Dave finally reported to
Hiram.

“Do you know the direction it went in?” asked
the latter.

“Yes. We will keep on and make Tarryford.
If we get no information there, I guess we will
have to give up the hunt.”

It was shortly after noon when they passed an
old farmhouse. As they whizzed by, Hiram remarked
some sheds in ruins, and smoking yet as
if recently consumed by fire. He called the attention
of his comrade to the fact. They sped on.
Less than half a mile accomplished, they saw
ahead a steep, high hill. By the side of the road,
seated on a level rock, was a man holding a rifle
between his knees.
.bn 052.png
.pn +1

Something about the grim, watchful manner of
the farmer attracted the curious attention of both
of the boys. Dave brought the machine to a halt
at the side of the road.

“Say, my man,” he called out, pleasantly,
“have you seen or heard of an airship anywhere
around here this morning?”

It was quite startling the way the farmer came
to his feet. His eyes flashed and he handled his
weapon in a menacing way.

“Have I?” he cried, fiercely. “I reckon so,
and I’m ready to riddle the troublesome old contraption
the minute she shows herself again!”
.bn 053.png
.pn +1
.pm chap VII "FOUND"
“We’re going to find out something sure,” declared
Hiram. “Say, Dave, that man knows
something about our machine.”

The young airman leaped from the auto and
approached the farmer. The latter stood viewing
the newcomers in a surly, suspicious way.

“You say you have seen an airship,” observed
Dave. “Where? when?”

The farmer eyed our hero and his companion
shrewdly.

“What do you want to know for?” he questioned.

“Well,” answered Dave, bluntly, “someone
stole a biplane from the aero field, near Washington,
last night, and we are looking for it.”

“Oh, you are?” muttered the man. “Belongs
to you, maybe?”

“To a company which we represent.”

“Responsible for damages?” insinuated the
farmer, with a shrewd glint in his calculating eyes.
.bn 054.png
.pn +1

“Is there some damage to account for?” inquired
Dave.

“I reckon,” pronounced the man seriously.
“Did you happen to notice the last farm down
the road?”

“We saw it, mister,” nodded Hiram, impatient
to hurry up the man with his disclosures.

“I suppose you saw them smoking ruins.
Them was a shed, a pigsty and a stack of hay.
I don’t reckon fifty dollars would replace them.”

“What has an airship to do with them?” inquired
Hiram.

“Everything. See here, just at daylight this
morning I came to the back door. I heard a
whir and a ping overhead, and I saw an airship
going licketty-switch. Just as it passed over the
house, some one in it must have thrown a lighted
cigar overboard. I didn’t see it fall, but after I
had gone into the house and finished dressing and
came out again, I saw the airship dropping into
the basin on top of Pike Hill up yonder. Then
I smelled smoke. I ran around towards the
sheds. The stack was blazing. I know it was a
cigar that started it, for I found one on the
ground where the fire started, and we smoke
nothing but corncob pipes around these diggings.”

“And you say the airship landed on top of
Pike Hill, as you call it?” inquired Dave.
“How do you know that?”
.bn 055.png
.pn +1

“Say, get up on this rock with me. That’s it.
Now then, take a squint past the spur of rock
way up near the crest of the hill. See it?”

“Hello!” instantly exclaimed Hiram, in a
state of great excitement.

“Why, sure as you live it’s the end of a wing,”
declared Dave. “Have you seen anything of the
persons running it, mister?”

“No, I haven’t. The way I figure it out is
that they ran out of steam. Mebbe they thought
no one saw them when they flew over the farm.
Mebbe they’re hiding. Mebbe, when they saw
me start on guard down here with my rifle, after
we’d tried to put the fire out, they were afraid to
budge.”

“It is very likely they alighted on account of
the lack of gasoline,” Dave said to Hiram. “We
didn’t leave much in the tanks last night.”

“That’s so,” assented Hiram. “What are you
going to do?”

The young aviator reflected for a moment.
Then he turned to the man again.

“See here, mister,” he said, “I must find out
the condition of that biplane up there. It may
not be ours. If it is, I promise you one thing.”

“And what’s that?” demanded the farmer.

“Your bill will be paid, and as much more on
top of it for directing us to the machine. Is the
ascent of the hill hard?”
.bn 056.png
.pn +1

“A stranger might find it so,” replied the man.
“Very few ever go there, and there’s no regular
path to the top. If you’ll wait till some neighbors
I’ve sent for to help rout out those fellows
up there come, we’ll make an attack on them.”

“I don’t think you will find anybody up there,”
said Dave. “No, I don’t,” he reiterated, as
Hiram regarded him inquiringly. “I reason it
out just as I said at the first, that whoever stole
the <i>Comet</i> planned to hide it where we couldn’t
find it. That is a capital place up there to fit into
their scheme. I’ll tell you, mister, you stay down
here if you want to, and we will go up and see
what we can find out.”

“I don’t know about that,” demurred the
farmer, suspiciously.

“Why not?” inquired Dave.

“How do I know but what you belong to the
crowd and have been telling me a fool story all
along? Easiest thing in the world for you to
start up in the airship and leave me to whistle
for my damages.”

“What, with the automobile here for
security?” asked Dave, with a laugh.

“That’s so,” remarked the farmer, thoughtfully.
“All right, go ahead. You’ll find it no
easy job, though. I can tell you another thing—if
I see that airship rising, I’ll plug it.”
.bn 057.png
.pn +1

“We will report to you before we go away,”
promised the young aviator. “Come on,
Hiram.”

The farmer had not misstated the ascent of
Pike Hill. Country bred as he was, Hiram
grumbled heartily at the brambles, and Dave got
tangled several times in a network of hampering
vines.

“Whew! the last climb,” announced Hiram,
finally, as they gained a topmost ridge of rocks.

“No one here,” cried the young airman.
“See, Hiram, they have let the <i>Comet</i> sink down
into this natural basin here, thinking it was a safe
hiding place.”

“It would have been a famous one if that old
farmer hadn’t caught sight of the machine,” said
Hiram. “No one would ever think of looking
for an airship in this out of the way place.”

The <i>Comet</i> lay slightly tipped to one side, unharmed.
Dave examined the machine casually.

“Everything is all right,” he reported to his
companion. “I was correct about the gasoline.
There isn’t enough juice left to run the machine
a mile.”

“But where are the people who stole it?”
asked Hiram.

“Went down the other side of the hill, I suppose.
They had accomplished what they were
hired to do. Now then, Hiram, this is a great
piece of good luck.”
.bn 058.png
.pn +1

“I should say so,” enthused Hiram.

“You go back down the hill—it will be easier
than climbing up.”

“I should hope so,” grimaced Hiram, rubbing
his bruised knees.

“Tell the man down there about the situation,
and that I am going to fly the machine over onto
his farm and fix things up with him.”

Dave waited till his handy assistant had
reached the bottom of the hill. In a few
moments, on the watch for some signal from below,
he noticed Hiram conversing with the
farmer. There were apparent explanations and
discussions. Then Hiram waved his hand as had
been agreed on with the young aviator, and Dave
knew that the coast was clear for a run with the
biplane.
.bn 059.png
.pn +1
.pm chap VIII "SOMETHING OF A MYSTERY"
Our hero found the gasoline tanks pretty well
emptied of oil. He realized that the “juice” on
hand would not admit of a long flight. Satisfied,
however, that there was sufficient fuel to fly the
<i>Comet</i> out of its resting place and down to level
ground, Dave got to the pilot post and operated
the self-starter.

The biplane arose promptly to the occasion.
A little deft guiding cleared the hill. The machine
and its occupant came safely and gently to
a new landing place in a field nearby. Hiram
and the farmer hastened to the spot as Dave
alighted.

“I call that purty cute,” announced the farmer,
a good deal interested. “Now then, stranger,
what about them damages?”

“Just what I said,” replied Dave. “You have
done us a great service and we appreciate it.
There is your money.”
.bn 060.png
.pn +1

“Say, you’re square and white,” declared the
farmer, overjoyed at the possession of so much
cash.

“We try to be,” answered Dave, pleasantly.
“Just sign that receipt, will you? The aeroplane
company will pay for this, and I want my voucher
all straight and regular.”

Dave wrote out a receipt on the back of a card
and the man signed it. Then the young aviator
proceeded to the automobile.

“Can’t I help you some?” inquired the farmer,
accommodatingly.

“If you will loan us a tin pail for a bit it will be
of service to us,” replied Dave. “There is plenty
of spare gasoline in the auto tank, Hiram,” he explained.

It did not take the boys long to transfer enough
of the gasoline to last the <i>Comet</i> for a home
flight. Dave arranged to fly the machine and directed
Hiram to take charge of the automobile.

It was about two o’clock in the afternoon when
the adventurers reported on the aero grounds.
Mr. Brackett was delighted at their success and
Elmer was fairly overjoyed. No damage whatever
had been done to the biplane, it was found,
after a careful inspection of the machine.

“I say, Dave,” spoke Hiram, as he and his
chief sat eating a fine dinner sent by Mr. Brackett
from the restaurant; “there’s a good deal about
this business that puzzles me.”
.bn 061.png
.pn +1

“I suppose that is true,” responded the young
aviator, with a slight smile. “What principally
is troubling you, Hiram?”

“Why, the whole proceeding. If somebody
wanted to put us out of business, why didn’t they
sink the airship somewhere or burn it up?”

“I think they counted on the <i>Comet</i> remaining
undiscovered until long after the other entries
had started,” said Dave.

“Spite, then?” suggested Hiram.

“No, I don’t think that.”

“Then if that Vernon had anything to do with
it——”

“I am satisfied that he did,” declared Dave.
“His object was not to keep Elmer from getting
out of the country, though.”

“Why, what else could it be?” questioned
Hiram in wonderment.

“I shall tell you later, Hiram,” replied Dave
in quite a serious way. “The fact is, there are
some things about stealing the airship that I do
not entirely understand myself. When I have
posted myself on those details, I fancy I shall
have a decidedly interesting story to tell you and
Elmer.”

“Say, can I ask you one question?” propounded
Hiram, and then, as Dave nodded in
assent, he added: “Has that girl, and your visit
to the city and the appearance of Vernon at the
Hampton Flats got anything to do with it?”
.bn 062.png
.pn +1

“Everything, in my opinion,” answered the
young airman, gravely.

“Humph!” commented Hiram. “A romance
and a mystery, eh?”

“Hardly, Hiram,” responded Dave gravely.
“It is business, pure and simple. I will say this
much to you at the present time: whatever dealings
I am having with Mr. Deane, the father of
the girl you saw, may involve all the skill and
nerve the crew of the <i>Comet</i> have at their command.”

The young airman had given his interested assistant
a good deal to think over. Hiram, however,
and in fact everybody about the place, were
soon immersed in things strictly professional. At
noon the following day the race around the world
was to start. There were not a large number of
entries, but every individual contestant had his
own pet machine and his coterie of friends and
admirers.

The field was a lively scene all day. The various
machines made trial flights. Then there was
the packing of supplies, which necessarily had to
be of limited volume. All of the contestants in
turn visited the office of the Aero Association to
receive definite route instructions. There was a
good deal of red tape to go through, credentials
to secure, and arrangements made for reporting
progress to headquarters from set points along
the route.
.bn 063.png
.pn +1

The young aviator and his assistants spent
nearly an hour over a blue print map which had
been furnished each of the contestants by the
management of the event. Hiram got out a
geography and studied out the situation in a more
detailed way. Elmer, at the suggestions of Dave,
made two copies of the list of points from which
the <i>Comet</i> was to report progress.

The boys were interrupted in this congenial
work by the appearance of one of the hangar
men at the door of the living tent. He beckoned
to Dave, who at once went outside, received some
message, and called back to his friends:

“I’ve got to go to the city, fellows. Won’t
be over two hours. Keep a close watch on everything
until I get back.”

“Wonder what’s up now?” remarked Hiram,
speculatively. Then he went to the door and
looked out. “H’m,” he observed, “Dave has a
good deal of mysterious business on hand, it
seems to me.”

“Where has he gone?” asked Elmer only
casually, for he was deeply absorbed in his work.

“To the city he said, and say, in that same
automobile that brought the young lady here day
before yesterday.”
.bn 064.png
.pn +1

“Well, it must be something important to take
Dave away from here at just this time,” commented
Elmer.

The young aviator reappeared about two hours
later. The chauffeur who had come for him
brought him back. Dave came into the living
tent all briskness and cheery as usual. The watchful
Hiram, however, whispered cautiously to
Elmer that “he acted as if he had something
heavy on his mind.”

The boys made frequent visits to the <i>Comet</i>
during the evening. Hiram noticed that Dave
seemed very solicitous that a double watch should
be kept over the machine during the night. He
hired two extra men to spell the regular watchmen,
and gave them close directions as to their
care of the biplane.

A band of music woke up the three young airmen
early in the morning. It announced a reception
to some French experts who had arrived
to take part in the international flights. Dave
was out of bed first, as usual, and bolted out of
the place, anxious to see if all was well with the
<i>Comet</i>.

Hiram and Elmer began to dress. They felt
buoyant and eager for the work of the day. In
sport, as Elmer finished dressing first, he made a
grab for the pillow on the cot Dave had occupied
and sent it hurtling at the head of his companion.
.bn 065.png
.pn +1

“That’s the last pillow you’ll see for a long
time to come,” he announced. “Hello! Why,
Hiram, look here!”

The speaker stood stock still, gazing spellbound
at the head of the cot whence he had taken
the pillow. Hiram, joining him, looked down
like himself in sheer, startled wonder.
.bn 066.png
.pn +1
.pm chap IX "THE PATH OF THE EAGLE"
“Well, I declare!” almost shouted Hiram
Dobbs.

“I should say so,” vociferated Elmer. “You
see, Dave in his hurry forgot that package under
his pillow. There’s a photograph——”

“Of the girl who came in the automobile!
What is it Dave calls her? Oh, yes—Edna
Deane.”

“And that pile of bank bills, Hiram!” cried
the astounded Elmer, as he gingerly flicked over
the edge of a heap of bills surrounded by an
elastic band. “Big bills! See, look! Why,
there must be hundreds there!”

“Hundreds?” repeated Hiram, equally dumbfounded,
like his comrade. “See the printed
figures on that paper band—‘$5,000.’ Don’t
touch them, cover them up. It’s Dave’s business,
and we have no right to spy into his affairs. All
the same—thunder!”

Elmer replaced the pillow. Then both boys
sat down on stools and stared at the cot and
then at each other.
.bn 067.png
.pn +1

“It’s a mystery,” broke out Elmer, after a
tantalizing spell of silence. “What’s Dave doing
with all that money? It puzzles me.”

“No, it’s what is he going to do with it,” corrected
Hiram. “You can make up your mind, it’s
business. The girl’s picture I can’t exactly figure
out. Dave will explain it all when the right minute
comes. Here he is now.”

Somewhat flushed, the young aviator came
hurrying into the tent. Hiram pretended to be
arranging his necktie and Elmer was lacing a
shoe. Dave proceeded to the bed and threw
aside the pillow. He stored the package he found
there in an inside pocket.

“You want to hurry, fellows,” he said.
“There’s a lot to do this morning, you know.”

There was so much to do, that after a hurried
breakfast the crew of the <i>Comet</i> found every minute
occupied for the ensuing two hours. The
<i>Comet</i> was in perfect trim for the start. There
were a hundred little things to think of in the way
of supplies and duplicate parts of machinery.
Mr. Brackett appeared on the scene early, and
went over the biplane he understood so well with
the care and anxiety of an automobile owner entering
his pet car for a race.

All the time bands were playing, banners flying,
and a vast concourse of people had gathered.
There was a speech from the president of the National
Aero Association, with the contestants to
.bn 068.png
.pn +1
the fore. The young airman and his friends went
down the line, looking over the various machines
that were to take part in the event. Each one
bore a numeral, and had some distinctive mark
that gave it a clear identity.

“We are number three,” said Hiram. “That
was always my lucky number. I went to school
three years, got licked three times before I left
and worked three years on the farm. This is the
third big event I’ve had anything to do with, there
are three of us——”

“Three cheers for number three!” cried
Elmer. “There’s father beckoning to me. No,
he wants us all, fellows.”

Our hero and the aero manufacturer had talked
over all business details earlier in the morning.
The kind-hearted Mr. Brackett, however, could
not see his proteges start out on a long and
perilous flight without a few words of fatherly
counsel. He gave them some sensible advice, and
Dave fancied he looked with considerable pride
at Elmer. It was with satisfaction that the indulgent
father compared the present courageous
ambitions of his son with the useless life the
prodigal had once led.

A bell was rung at the grandstand. This was
the half-hour preparation signal. The airmen
now proceeded to their machines. The scene became
one of lively activity and gay colors. The
.bn 069.png
.pn +1
<i>Comet</i>, neat, compact and perfect, showed up for
the beautiful piece of mechanism it was in the
clear, dazzling sunlight. Its crew, nattily attired,
seemed to fit into a pleasing natural picture.

There was no expectation of a general uniform
start when the second bell rang. With the long
perilous journey before them, it was a matter of
small consequence starting on the moment. Some
of the aeroplanes, in fact, would not be in line
for some hours to come. Ever ready at the business
call, however; always on time as a matter of
principle, the young pilot of the <i>Comet</i> wasted no
time. Number three was the first to leave the
field, and got all the first overflow of cheers and
enthusiasm. Until a course due northwest was
attained, Elmer and Hiram sat waving to the
little group outside of their abandoned hangar.
Mr. Brackett kept them in sight until the <i>Comet</i>
was a fading blur, a mere speck in the far distance.
The splendid machine struck its best gait
staunchly, steadily, leaving a gasoline trail behind.

The boys had talked so much over the trip—they
understood the <i>Comet</i> so well, that everything
went like clockwork. Elmer had charge of
the maps and charts. Hiram insisted on being
purser extraordinary. All hands were prepared
for any emergency that might arise.
.bn 070.png
.pn +1

The Aero Association had mapped out the
general route the contestants were to pursue.
None was tied to rigid rules, however, outside
of reporting at certain stations. All this had
been arranged by letter and cable. The first reporting
stop was to be made at Chicago, the next
at Winnipeg. Between all reporting points, the
contestants could follow their own route. They
could land when they chose. Each one, however,
must report at the stations designated and secure
the credentials necessary to prove that he was
still in the race.

The route chart showed towns and cities where
an aero club or interested airman could be located.
These would also answer as repair and supply
stations. Even in foreign countries, so far as
could be arranged, the contestants would be able
to locate friends and receive succor or assistance
as needed.

“We are going to blaze a great international
trail,” observed Hiram, proudly.

“That is, if we get through all right,” remarked
Elmer.

“Oh, we’ve got to do that,” proclaimed his
light and airy comrade. “The <i>Comet</i> was made
to do it. I wonder how many of the others will
even reach Canada?”
.bn 071.png
.pn +1

“There were twelve entries,” spoke their
pilot. “I will say, a finer lot of machines never
started a flight. Of course they won’t all get
through.”

“It will be kind of lonesome when we get
pretty well scattered, and trailing over some
desert or water waste, way out of range of
civilization; eh, fellows?” suggested Elmer.

The <i>Comet</i> made a non-stop run of nearly two
hundred miles. It was mid-afternoon when they
descended half-way across a high mountain range.
Dave went all over the machine and Elmer oiled
and cleaned up the bearings. Hiram gathered
some scraps for a little fire, and they had hot
coffee, as well as ham broiled on long forks, and
the rest of a really good meal.

Then there was a pleasant chat, some exercise,
and they were all aboard again and driving
through a brief mountain rainstorm, coming into
clear weather beyond.

Before dusk Hiram reported four competitors
visible through his field glass. Two of them came
pretty near to the <i>Comet</i>, and one signalled them.
Then their routes deviated, and after a second
landing the boys got ready for a six-hour steady
night run.

About two o’clock in the morning they landed
in a convenient field. The register showed four
hundred and ninety-two miles accomplished in a
little less than fourteen hours, almost straight
flying.
.bn 072.png
.pn +1

It was late in the afternoon of the day following
that the <i>Comet</i> came to a stop on the aero
grounds just outside of Chicago. From having
been there before and from their description
chart, Dave was able to locate the place readily.

No meet was on at the time, but enthusiastic
brother airmen were on hand expecting an arrival.
Amid cheers and warm hand clasps, the
tired crew of the <i>Comet</i> were greeted royally.

There was a blackboard outside the office building
of the course. As they neared it Hiram
uttered a triumphant chuckle. Its surface was unmarked
until a man approached it, and chalked on
its line the first arrival from starting point.

“<i>No. Three—the Comet.</i>”
.bn 073.png
.pn +1
.pm chap X "A MIDNIGHT ALARM"
“Why, hello, Hiram Dobbs!”

The young sub-pilot of the <i>Comet</i> turned
quickly at the hail. It was half an hour after the
arrival at the Chicago aero grounds. Hiram
felt pretty important over the royal reception his
comrades and himself had received from the
aviation officials. Never too proud to greet a
friend of humbler pretensions, however, he
turned with his usual broad smile of good nature.
Then he shot out his hand heartily.

A pale, thin lad, somewhat poorly dressed, had
accosted him. Pleased and eager, he clasped the
hand Hiram extended.

“Well,” exclaimed the latter, “if it isn’t Will
Mason! How in the world do you come to be
here?”

“You,” answered the lad promptly—“you’re
to blame for my getting a splendid outdoor job,
fine pay and jolly good people to work for,” and
the speaker’s eyes twinkled.

“Let’s see,” said Hiram, ruminating. “It was
at Columbus I met you; wasn’t it?”
.bn 074.png
.pn +1

“Yes, too sick to keep drudging my life away
in the poison air of the zinc works,” nodded Will.
“The doctor said I’d last a month longer, maybe.
But there was mother, and I had to stick
at my post till you kindly interested yourself in
me.”

“And Dave Dashaway did the rest by getting
you placed with the Chicago crowd; eh?” added
Hiram. “It worked out? Good!”

“It worked out because you started the machinery,”
declared the grateful Will. “Oh, it’s
fine, Mr. Dobbs.”

“Hey! what? Wow! O-oh, my!” and, forgetting
all dignity, Hiram fell against a hangar
rope and almost roared. “‘Mister!’” he
gasped. “First time in my life I was called that.
It will be ‘Professor’ next. Oh, but I’m getting
on in the world. I suppose it may come to ‘Sir
Hiram Dobbs,’ unless we fall down somewhere
along the line. Then it will be back to plain
Hiram, or just ‘Hi.’ I’m Hiram to my friends,
though, always; so call me that and I’ll think you
are really a friend.”

Will Mason was bubbling over with delight at
his vastly improved condition and heartfelt gratitude
towards the true friends who had helped him
attain it. He was full of the subject and Hiram
had to listen to the details.
.bn 075.png
.pn +1

Will told how he had a position clear up to the
end of the year and a dozen prospects for the
next season.

“It’s only helping around the hangars for the
present,” he explained; “but Mr. King sent word
that as soon as he gets well he will give me a
regular place among his assistants. I’ve been
able to send quite a bit of money to mother. This
week there are some amateur airmen here who
want special care for their machines, and I’m
making a heap of extras.”

“Grand!” commended Hiram. “You’ll make
it. You’re the kind that will.”

“And I feel so much better in health,” added
Will. “I’ve gained ten pounds, and I feel just
like a bird let out of its cage. That’s your machine
over yonder; isn’t it?” asked Will, indicating
the <i>Comet</i>, which was surrounded by interested
investigating airmen.

“That’s the winner of the international race
around the world, yes,” proclaimed Hiram
grandly.

“She looks it,” enthused Will. “I wanted to
ask you about the biplane. You’re going to stay
here till morning, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I guess that is the programme,” replied
Hiram.

“Then you want to house the machine. I
heard that some one stole the <i>Comet</i>. It was
talked around here that some wanted to put the
<i>Comet</i> out of the race because of her good
chances.”
.bn 076.png
.pn +1

“Oh, is that so?” remarked Hiram.

“So, if you want the machine well taken care
of,” proceeded Will, “give me the pleasure of
doing it. You see that hangar over yonder—the
one built of light cement blocks? It’s a remodeled
storehouse. Belongs to Mr. Givins, a
rich amateur. I take care of his machine when
it’s here. He took a run up to Milwaukee this
morning, and won’t be back until to-morrow, he
said. There isn’t a safer, cleaner, more roomy
place on the grounds. You see the windows are
barred and there is a great big lock on the doors.”

“Why, say, that’s just famous,” said Hiram.
“Dave will be glad to know of such good accommodations
as you offer, Will.”

“Besides,” continued the hangar lad, “I’ll
sleep in the place all night. Nobody will run
away with the <i>Comet</i> while I am on watch.”

“I believe you,” cried Hiram buoyantly.
“Come on, I want you to meet Dave. He will
be mighty glad to see you.”

Number eight of the contestant group came in
at dusk. Number eleven, a high power machine,
reported an hour later. A wire had come from
Pittsburgh announcing the smash—up of number
five, nobody hurt, but machine totally disabled
and permanently out of commission.
.bn 077.png
.pn +1

The young pilot of the <i>Comet</i> had some very
pleasant words for Will Mason. The offer of
the hangar lad to take charge of the <i>Comet</i> for
the night was entirely satisfactory. The local
airmen vied in showing attention to their guests,
and the eight hours stop was an enlivening break
in the long expedition before them.

“What’s that you’ve got in that box, Hiram?”
asked our hero, as they left the association building.

“Some of those fine dainties they set before us
at that reception lunch,” reported Hiram. “I
tipped the waiter to put it up for me. For Will
Mason, you see.”

“That’s good,” commended Dave, “Will is a
fine-going fellow.”

“Yes, and proud as can be to think you’ll trust
him to keep any stragglers away from the
<i>Comet</i>.”

The boys decided to look in on the machine before
returning. A knock at the door of the
hangar brought a sharp mandatory challenge
from the vigilant guardian inside.

“Who is there?” demanded Will, approaching
the portal.

“Midnight lunch for the watchman!” cried
Hiram, in a jolly tone.

“Enter midnight lunch,” ordered Will, unlocking
and swinging open the door.
.bn 078.png
.pn +1

“You are pretty fine and cozy here,” remarked
Dave.

A lantern burned on a shelf. Will had made
a comfortable bed on a tilted board. He
smacked his lips as Hiram disclosed the contents
of the box.

“Why, it is a regular banquet,” declared the
pleased lad. “What with that and my reading
there’s no danger of my going to sleep.”

Hiram picked up a book lying on the shelf
and read its title.

“H’m,” he remarked, “‘Advanced Aeronautics—1850.’
Say, this must seem queer along
with the flying machines of to-day.”

“It’s almost funny in places,” explained Will.
“I wonder what those old fellows with their
big awkward gas bags would think of the nifty
machine here, and a trip around the world in it,
easy as a Pullman sleeper.”

“We don’t know that yet,” observed Dave.
“There are probably some very unusual experiences
ahead of us.”

“Oh, well, we’ll take it as it comes, a section at
a time,” said Hiram. “With Dave Dashaway at
the helm, we simply can’t fail.”

They were a sanguine, light-hearted group.
The crew of the <i>Comet</i> chatted in a friendly
way with Will for a few minutes. Then the trio
repaired to a little hotel just outside the grounds.
.bn 079.png
.pn +1
The association had made arrangements for them
there. The young airman left word to be called
at daylight and the comrades were shown to a
doubled-bedded room.

“This is pretty fine,” observed Hiram, bunking
in with Elmer and stretching himself luxuriously.
“There won’t be a lot more of it for some
time to come, so let’s see who can sleep soundest.”

Our hero was certainly the expert aviator of
the group. He did not carry off the laurels in the
slumber field, however. His comrades wrapped
in profound sleep, Dave awoke and with a shock.

It must have been about three o’clock. It
seemed to the young airman as though a cannon
had gone off near by. His ears still rang with
the echoes. Dave found the window frames of
the room were still rattling.

“Wonder what that was?” he mused. He
glanced towards the windows, but there was no
glare of fire. Perfect stillness reigned outside.
About to leave the solution of the question until
daybreak, our hero listened intently as he heard
someone in the next room spring from bed, cross
the room hurriedly and apparently pick up a
telephone receiver.

“Hello. This the hotel office?” fell upon
Dave’s hearing. “All right. Say, what was that
just went off? Wait a minute? All right.”
.bn 080.png
.pn +1

There was a brief lapse of silence. Then the
bell in the next apartment rang out sharply. A
message seemed to come over the wire, the young
airman could catch its crackling echoes.

“What’s that!” exclaimed the man at the
’phone. “Explosion at the aero grounds? Is
that so? Hangar and machine blown to pieces!
What was it? Oh, dynamite! Well! well!”

With a start and a thrill the young aviator
sprang out of bed.
.bn 081.png
.pn +1
.pm chap XI "IN PERIL"
“Wake up, Hiram,” shouted our hero, seizing
the arm of his sleeping assistant, who, rolling
against Elmer, jogged him into wakefulness also.

“Ah, what did you say?” droned Hiram. “I
was just dreaming that we were on the last home
stretch with the <i>Comet</i> and——”

“Hurry up and dress, fellows,” ordered the
young airman, rapidly.

“Why, it isn’t daylight yet,” remonstrated
Elmer, with a drowsy stare.

“No,” answered Dave, seriously. “But there
is some trouble over on the aero grounds, and we
may be interested.”

“Say,” cried Hiram, fully aroused at the announcement,
“you don’t mean trouble for the
<i>Comet</i>?”

“I don’t know,” replied Dave. “There was
an explosion. The man in the next room heard
it, too. He called up the hotel clerk, and he
told him that a hangar and its machine had been
.bn 082.png
.pn +1
blown to pieces. Take everything with you, fellows,”
advised the young airman. “We won’t
come back here, even if this affair doesn’t affect
us.”

“Do you think it does?” inquired Elmer anxiously.
“How could there be an explosion of an
airship? Yes, I’m ready.”

The boys hurried down the stairs. Dave, in the
lead, found two men who had machines on the
aero grounds. They, too, had been aroused and
were questioning the clerk.

“All I got over the ’phone from the office on
the grounds was what I told you,” the clerk was
saying—“building and machine blown to pieces.”

“Let’s hurry,” said Hiram anxiously, as they
reached the street. The two men from the hotel
ran along with them. They overtook others,
aroused by the explosion, and discussing it and
trying to figure out what it might mean.

The guard at the gate of the grounds knew no
more than what the boys had already learned.
He said, however, that several from the office
building had gone to the scene of the trouble.
Half way across the field, a hangar man running
to the office building with information, met them.

“What’s the trouble?” inquired one of the
hurrying group.

“One of the hangars blown up—dynamite, I
guess,” was the reply.

“Accident?”
.bn 083.png
.pn +1

“No, looks more like malicious spitework.
The superintendent and his men are trying to
find out.”

Our hero and his comrades could see lanterns
moving about over at the row of hangars where
the <i>Comet</i> was housed. Another man from the
scene was halted by them, and Dave asked
quickly:

“Which one of the hangars was blown up?”

“The concrete one—the one the <i>Comet</i> was
in.”

Hiram uttered a groan. Dave grew pale with
anxiety and distress. Elmer grasped hold of his
arm as if the blow had made him reel.

“Dave,” spoke Hiram, in a trembling tone,
“they stole our machine back at Washington.
They’ve destroyed it, now!”

The young airman did not reply. His lips
tightly compressed to hide his emotion, he hurried
on. Then they all came to a stop. In dismay
they stood staring at a mass of ruins—what was
left of the wrecked hangar.

Pieces of concrete blocks littered the ground in
all directions. Parts of an airship mechanism
showed in the glare of the lanterns. The young
aviator felt sick all over. He had known all
along what there was to fear. His mind was
quickly decided as to the motive and source of
the vandal act.
.bn 084.png
.pn +1

“Dave,” suddenly whispered Hiram, in a shaking
tone, “the <i>Comet</i> is gone! That may not
matter, for we might get another machine, but—what
about Will Mason?”

Dave thrilled at the question. He steadied
himself as he best could, and touched the superintendent
of the grounds, who was standing nearby,
on the arm.

“There was somebody in the hangar,” he said.

“We suppose so,” replied the official, gravely.
“Young Mason slept there nights and——”

“I’m all right,” interrupted an excited but clear
voice, and the person under discussion came into
view pulling on his sweater. “Just woke up,
and they told me about this.”

“Will! Will!” spoke Dave, grasping the
hand of the hangar lad fervently. Elmer was
crying for joy. Hiram threw an arm about the
young fellow and fairly hugged him.

“Oh, nothing matters so long as you wasn’t
blown to pieces along with the machine,” almost
sobbed the loyal Hiram. “How was it—how
did you get out?”

“I wasn’t in,” replied Will. “When I moved
the <i>Comet</i> out——”

“When you what?” shouted Hiram, in a
frenzy of suspense.

“Why, I guess you’re thinking your machine
was blown up,” said Will.
.bn 085.png
.pn +1

“Of course we do,” answered Elmer.

“Well, the <i>Comet</i> is all snug and safe in that
fourth hangar down the row. The man who
owns the wrecked hangar came in with his machine
shortly after midnight. He routed me up,
and I got the <i>Comet</i> out and his biplane in. I
promised you I would keep an all-night watch
over your biplane, and stayed with it.”

“Oh, Dave, I’m so glad!” cried Hiram, in a
tone of immense relief.

The young pilot of the <i>Comet</i> left the group
and drew the superintendent to one side.

“This is a pretty mysterious happening,” that
official had just remarked.

“I may be able to throw some light upon it,”
said Dave, in a very serious way. “I feel certain
that the explosion was intended to destroy the
<i>Comet</i>.”

“Is that so!” exclaimed the superintendent.
“Then it was done by design?”

“Yes,” affirmed Dave, positively. “I think
the Association people should know about it.
Perhaps some search can be made for the persons
who did the work. You know, the <i>Comet</i> was
stolen from the grounds near Washington.”

“It seems to me I did hear something about
that,” replied the official.

“We did not say much about it at the time,”
went on Dave; “but I had my suspicions.”
.bn 086.png
.pn +1

“What were they?”

“Someone was very much interested in keeping
us out of the race,” explained the young airman.

“You mean professional rivals?”

“I won’t say that positively,” responded Dave,
“although expert airmen certainly shared in the
Washington end of the plot. I cannot doubt that
instructions were sent to confederates here at
Chicago to catch the <i>Comet</i> and finish the work.”

“You can’t name any one in this outrage; can
you, Dashaway?” inquired the superintendent,
roused up to a high pitch of excitement and
indignation.

“I have a suspicion as to the person at the bottom
of the scheme,” answered Dave. “I have a
further idea as to the men who are carrying out instructions,
but I have no positive proof as to their
guilt. Neither of them is probably here. No,
they must have wired accomplices at this point.
All I can say is, that hired emissaries in a big
plot to keep us out of this race are probably
posted and instructed all along the line, determined
to carry out their plan to prevent our making
the world-circling flight.”

“I must report this to the officers of the association
at once, Dashaway,” said the superintendent.
.bn 087.png
.pn +1

Hiram had sidled up to Dave. He seized the
arm of the latter in a detaining grip as he was
about to move nearer to the ruins of the hangar.

“See here, Dave Dashaway,” he said,
earnestly, “there’s a lot you are keeping to yourself,
and I’ve a right to know what it is.”

“I think so, too,” replied the young airman at
once. “I saw no good accomplished by worrying
you with that I only guessed, until this explosion
occurred. Now I feel it a duty to share
my knowledge with you and Elmer, just as you
are sharing the risk and danger of this journey.
As soon as we get started again, I will have an
interesting story to tell you.”

“All right, Dave,” agreed Hiram, “only I’m
terribly anxious and curious. Can I ask you just
one question?”

“Yes, if you choose,” replied Dave.

“Is the man behind all this trouble the fellow
I have all along guessed—that fellow, Vernon?”

“You needn’t guess it,” answered Dave. “You
have hit it just right. It is Vernon.”
.bn 088.png
.pn +1
.pm chap XII "THE SECRET TOLD"
“Now then, Dave, we are all ready to hear
that promised story of yours,” said Hiram Dobbs.

“Yes,” added Elmer Brackett, “there’s no
danger of any spies or eavesdroppers in this
lonely place.”

It was a lonely place, indeed. Half a week in
time and over a thousand miles in distance removed
from the Chicago aero grounds, the three
young airmen were taking a rest in the midst of
a far-spreading Canadian forest.

Right at the spot where they were camping
was a knob, or hill. At its bottom, a level stretch
of some extent, there spread about a vast, wild
swamp. This afforded a good anchor spot for
the biplane. The <i>Comet</i> rested on its base somewhat
travel-stained, but staunch and reliable as
at the start. The crew of the machine looked as
if they had never felt better in their lives. Wind,
rain and sun had begun to brown them up like
gipsies. Energy showed in their clear, vigilant
eyes, and confidence and ambition in every movement
they made. They had just dispatched what
.bn 089.png
.pn +1
Elmer had described as “a royal feast,” which
sharp appetites had fully enjoyed. Then, each
of the trio outstretched on the grass, they luxuriated
in a restful position that a rigid posture in
the <i>Comet</i> during a day of hard traveling had not
allowed.

“All right, fellows,” said the young airman,
“I guess the time has come when it is safe for
you to know what you have called a great secret.”

“Yes, out with it, Dave,” urged Hiram,
“I’ve been dying with curiosity ever since I got
a hint that some big mystery was afoot.”

“It is less of a mystery than an important piece
of professional work,” explained our hero. “I
didn’t tell you about it at Washington, because
I was in doubt myself. When we escaped that explosion
at Chicago, I was afraid it would unnerve
and worry you to have a dread and uncertainty
on your mind. I really thought something was
going to happen to us at Winnipeg. It didn’t.
We’re ahead or out of range of the enemy now,
I feel pretty certain. To sum it all up, I hardly
think we will be interfered with again—at least
this side of the first Coast station, Sitka.”

“No, it doesn’t look as if anybody would try
to chase us through three thousand miles of wilderness,”
remarked Elmer.

“Anyway, there has been no sign of it so far,”
said Dave.
.bn 090.png
.pn +1

“Provided that tramp monoplane we noticed
at Winnipeg isn’t sneaking around somewhere,”
put in Hiram, quite seriously.

Dave smiled, and Elmer laughed outright, with
the words:

“That was all fancy.”

“Was it?” protested Hiram, getting excited.
“I tell you, that black-looking machine was after
something. You two didn’t see it as many times
as I did. There wasn’t an airman I questioned
who recognized the machine. It was a tramp, a
pirate, and you won’t convince me that it wasn’t
hanging around purposely to make somebody
trouble.”

“Well, we missed it, if it was the <i>Comet</i> they
were after,” said Dave. “Now then, fellows.”

With a business like air Dave took from his
pocket a box-like envelope. He proceeded to
undo its flap. Then he drew out its contents.
Just as his peering comrades expected, the young
aviator revealed a heap of bank notes and a
photograph.

“Hold on, Dave,” interrupted Hiram, as his
friend was about to speak; “we don’t want to
hide anything from you. We have seen that
money and picture before.”

“Oh, is that so?” asked Dave, in some surprise.

“Yes,” and Hiram related when and where.
.bn 091.png
.pn +1

“No harm done,” said Dave lightly. “You
are good, true chums, I see that. About this
packet: Its story leads back to the day that a
young lady in an automobile came up to our
hangar near Washington. Her name is Edna
Deane, and her father is General Deane, a man
of some means. His son, Morris Deane, was a
noted traveler and explorer. For over two years
he has been missing. It was not until quite recently
that his devoted father and sister learned
that he was either dead or a prisoner.”

“A prisoner?” exclaimed the interested
Hiram. “A prisoner? Tell me how and where,
Dave?”

“In the heart of Thibet, thousands and thousands
of miles away from here. It is a strange
story, fellows, and a serious one. It seems that
young Deane in his travels ventured to enter the
great sacred city of Lhassa. It meant death or
permanent imprisonment, but he risked it. There
he disappeared. His anxious father and sister
know this, but nothing further. They tried to
hire detectives and daring adventurers outside of
that profession to penetrate to his place of
captivity. Knowing the peril, none would go. It
appears that it is almost impossible to reach
Lhassa by land or water. Every road is guarded
to keep out intruders. General Deane knew
Mr. King. The thought came to him that an airship
might accomplish what ordinary vehicles of
travel could not.”
.bn 092.png
.pn +1

“I see,” said Hiram. “That might be all
right, if it was simply a dive and a quick rescue.”

“Which it will not be,” replied Dave, “for
the information General Deane has gathered up
as to the exact fate or whereabouts of his son is
very vague. Well, as I said, the General went to
Mr. King. Our old friend is laid up, as you
know. He directed the general to us, knowing
about the intended trip around the world. That
little business lady, Miss Deane, came to see me.
Then I went to her father.”

“And he gave you all that money to undertake
the search for his missing son?” guessed Elmer.

“Not at all,” replied Dave. “He told me a
story that not only interested me, but excited my
sympathy greatly. A year ago an uncle of Morris
Deane died, leaving an enormous estate. The
relative left the estate to a man who had been his
nurse and private secretary for years. His name
is Arnold Wise. It seems he is a perfect villain,
and that is not putting it one bit too strong, I
think.”

“What about him?” pressed the curious
Elmer.

“According to the terms of the will, Wise was
to inherit the estate, unless within two years
Morris Deane appeared and claimed it. At the
time he made his will, the uncle had about made
up his mind that his nephew was dead.”
.bn 093.png
.pn +1

“Suppose he turns up or is found?” inquired
Hiram.

“Then Wise is to deliver the estate over to
him minus one hundred thousand dollars, which
will be his rightful share. The uncle left a note
urging Wise to seek for his missing nephew.”

“Did he do it?” asked Elmer.

“Yes, he did, and found out something, the
general and his daughter believe, although he reported
to them that young Deane was surely dead
long since. They finally got to believing that
Wise was wicked enough to think of having the
rival heir put out of the way. Later events proved
that he is a cruel, soulless man. This brings
us to our old-time enemy, Vernon.”

“Aha! he’s mixed up with it, too?” cried
Hiram.

“You remember that you discovered Vernon
lurking around the hangars that night near Washington?”

“Yes, and later coming out of the house where
the Deane family lived,” added Hiram.

“Well, I am now satisfied that Vernon overheard
my entire first conversation with Miss
Edna Deane. Also that later he sneaked into
Hampton Flats, and probably overheard enough
more to suggest a new scheme to that crafty
.bn 094.png
.pn +1
mind of his. At all events, there was a faithful
old servant of the dead uncle who had been retained
by Wise. She came to the Deanes and told
them that a man named Vernon had come to Wise
and told him that the general was sending an airship
expedition to find his missing son.”

“I begin to see the light,” remarked Hiram.

“From what happened later,” proceeded the
young airman, “I am satisfied that some bargain
was made between Wise and Vernon. I believe
that Wise hired our old-time enemy to outwit
us. I feel sure it was Vernon who got somebody
to run away with the <i>Comet</i>. Failing to stop
us he wired accomplices in Chicago to blow up
the machine. We have gone so fast that he
probably was not able to reach us at Winnipeg.
He is undoubtedly supplied with plenty of money.
I should not be surprised if he kept up his game
of trying to block us all along the route. That,
fellows, is the story. The money you see here is
the sum of five thousand dollars, supplied by General
Deane to use if necessary to secure the
release of his son.”

“And the photograph, Dave?” inquired
Hiram. “Keepsake, eh?”

“Not at all,” replied the young aviator.
“That, shown to young Deane, if we once find
him, is a token that will convince him that we are
sent by friends. Fellows, I know you are like
.bn 095.png
.pn +1
me—willing to do all you can for a fellow being
in trouble. It would be a grand, humane act if
we succeeded. The general places no limit to the
reward, but I wouldn’t listen to that kind of
talk.”

“Good for you,” applauded Elmer. “Say, I
only hope we can find Morris Deane.”

“We are going to try to,” announced our hero,
quietly, but in a determined way. “Get out the
chart, Hiram, and I’ll show you how I believe we
can take in Thibet without seriously losing time
in the race.”

Hiram arose to his feet to obey this direction,
when Elmer got up and began sniffing.

“I say, Dave,” he observed, “do you smell it?
Smoke! There’s fire somewhere!”
.bn 096.png
.pn +1
.pm chap XIII "AN EXCITING MOMENT"
“Yes, there is smoke—and fire behind it!”
cried Hiram. “And see—the wind is changing—whew!”

The biplane boys had been so engrossed in their
own affairs that they had not noticed until now
that a dense, high-up vapor had gradually clouded
the sun. All of a sudden, however, some new current
of wind drove the smoke downwards. As
it struck the hill it wound around it like a veil.
It came so thick and fast that it began to choke
and blind them. Filmy cinders and a growing
heat in the air were to be observed.

“See here, Dave,” spoke Hiram, “hadn’t we
better get aloft?”

“Look at that now,” chimed in Elmer, pointing
across the broad surface of the hill.

The three young aviators stood quite spellbound
for a moment, witnessing a new and novel
spectacle. The top of the knob was covered with
a great growth of dried-up weeds, fine and
fibrous. From time to time, as the branches
dropped away from the parent stem, they had
rolled or were blown part way down the hill.
.bn 097.png
.pn +1

Great masses in the aggregate had lodged on
shelves and crevices among the rocks. Now the
sweep of the strong breeze had suddenly arisen
and the suction of the hot, swirling air moved
these accumulations. They blew over each other
and together. Gaining a momentum, here and
there rounded masses began to wad up and grow
as they progressed in their mad course.

“I have heard of those,” said the young airman.
“They are called tumbleweeds.”

“Snowballs!” shouted the excitable Hiram.
“Look at that now!”

A blast of hot air sent a perfect shower of
sparks and smoking filaments over the brow of
the hill. These ignited the rolling spheres, some
of which had become gigantic globes. At one
time over a hundred of the strange, rolling balls
were set aflare.

“Fireworks!” added Elmer. “It’s a pretty
sight, but—whoof!”

A great sphere, all ablaze, landed against the
speaker, burst like fluffy thistle down, and
scorched him slightly.

“All aboard!” ordered Dave, sharply.
“Don’t waste a second, fellows!”

“Yes, high time, I’m thinking,” declared
Hiram, making a run for some cooking utensils
he had been using in preparing their lunch.
.bn 098.png
.pn +1

The <i>Comet</i> as usual was in perfect shape for a
speedy flight. Dave, at the pilot post, his assistants
in their accustomed places, a touch of the
self-starter sent them off on a sharp tangent away
from the hill and across the tinder-like fields of
weeds.

“Just in time,” spoke Hiram, as they arose to
a higher level, above the crest of the hill.
“There’s a grand sight for a fellow, if there ever
was one.”

Each of the aviators was enwrapt in the vivid
panorama beneath them. Far as they could look—south,
north, and west—acres and miles of
flame-swept surface greeted their vision. By this
time the sparks had ignited the swamp. A solid
wall of flame seized upon the dry stalks with a
roar. The hill was now the center of a glowing
caldron of fire.

“That was pretty quick,” remarked Dave.
“We were lucky to get warning in time.”

In places where little thickets beneath them
were burning, entire sight of the ground was shut
out for the heat or smoke. They were now too
high for the heat or smoke to reach them. The
fire, however, was of considerable extent, and even
on the distant horizon there seemed no end or beginning
to the great conflagration.
.bn 099.png
.pn +1

They passed over a long lake. It was shallow,
but at that spot the body of water had presented
a barrier to the immediate forward progress of
the flames.

“See,” spoke Hiram, “the fire is eating around
the edges of the lake to the other side. Dave,”
he suddenly shouted, “there’s a house!”

“Yes, and it’s on fire, too,” echoed Elmer.

The lake was about half a mile wide. Its beach
was lined with clumps of flags and reeds. These
had fed the flames around the body of water in
two directions. At the south end of the opposite
shore of the lake, the fire had entirely surrounded
a small, cultivated patch with a rude log cabin
in its center. This structure was blazing fiercely.
To the west and the far north the fire was sweeping
in giant strides, licking up everything that
came in its path.

There was just one space between the onrushing
and the backing up section of the conflagration.
This was a little stretch of beach.
As they approached it, the young aviator made a
veer with the biplane that told his companions of
a sudden change of purpose.

“What is it, Dave?” asked Elmer, quickly.

“Don’t you see?” replied Dave. “There are
a woman and child down there.”

“Gracious!” shouted Hiram—“why, so there
are! She’s running for her life! No, she’s
stopped. Now she’s stepped into the water.
She’s wading in. Dave, Dave, do something!”
.bn 100.png
.pn +1

It was truly an exciting situation. All three of
the boys now saw in plain view the forlorn fugitives
of the fire. A woman, terrified and
frantic, was visible. She carried a young child
in her arms. Apparently she had just come from
the burning cabin.

Behind her a rushing wall of fire pursued.
West and north a half-circle of solid flame told
her of impending doom. She ran out into the
lake, but there she faltered, not ten feet from
shore. It seemed that she realized that she could
not get far enough beyond the fringe of flags to
escape the fire, and she stood rooted to the spot
in helpless despair.

“We have a bare five minutes before the flames
reach her,” said Dave, his tone a trifle strained
and unsteady, but determined. “Fellows, we
must take her aboard.”

“Can we land all right?” questioned Elmer.

“We’ve got to, even at a risk,” replied Dave.

“It means a big added weight,” suggested
Hiram. “Something has got to go out.”

“Lighten up the best you know how,” directed
Dave rapidly.

It was no careless trick to land. Dave strained
every sense and nerve to carry out the projected
rescue safely. Hiram and Elmer knew the part
expected of them. The former reached back in
the pocket, or compartment, containing their
equipment and supplies.
.bn 101.png
.pn +1

“Help me, Elmer,” he said hastily. “Toss it
out,” and he dragged a can of water within reach,
and his companion sent it whirling over the edge
of the machine.

Two out of four heavy rods, duplicates of a
part of the steering outfit, followed, then a large
bag of sugar. Hiram selected from the food
supply articles that could be readily replaced at
the first town they might reach.

“That will do,” he announced, just as the
<i>Comet</i> sailed downward, struck the ground, and
glided to a stop.
.bn 102.png
.pn +1
.pm chap XIV "THE TRAMP MONOPLANE"
Instantly Hiram leaped from the machine,
Elmer following him. The woman had waded to
a rocky reef coming up out of the water. There
she had sunk, throwing her apron over her head
and clasping her babe close to her breast.

She had not seen the airship. In fact, it was
all the boys could do to keep their eyes clear from
smoke and cinders. Hiram ran straight out into
the water.

“Get up, lady, quick,” he cried, touching her
arm. “We have come to get you out of here.”

The woman shrieked in alarm, but dropped the
covering from her face. Her brain was reeling,
it seemed, and her senses were benumbed by all
the strange happenings about her.

“Help me, Elmer,” directed Hiram, and together
they drew her out of the water and led her
up to the biplane. She stared at it blankly.

“I—I don’t understand,” she said, and swayed
in a lost manner, as if she was about to swoon.
.bn 103.png
.pn +1

“Get her in, quick!” ordered Dave, with a
glance ahead of them as a rain of sparks flew over
and past the machine.

The woman was now almost passive in the
hands of her helpers. They got her into the seat
Elmer usually occupied, while he climbed over
into the space to its rear. Hiram got aboard.
Then the <i>Comet</i> shot up into the air.

The woman turned pale and shrank back. She
clung to her little child and stared wildly about
her.

“Don’t be afraid, lady,” spoke Hiram, soothingly.
“It’s all right. There is no one else
around here; is there?”

“Not a soul,” gasped the woman, faintly. “I
was alone—all alone,” she continued in a dreary
tone. “Oh, it was awful, awful! I feared I
would never see my husband again.”

“May I ask where he is?” pressed Hiram.

“He went to Doubleday to get some winter
supplies,” explained the woman. “It takes three
days. I hope he got there safely.”

The pilot of the <i>Comet</i> and Elmer were able
to hear all that was said as their comrade patiently
drew out her story. The burned cabin was the
only habitation in the wilderness district.

“How far away is this Doubleday?” inquired
Hiram.
.bn 104.png
.pn +1

“It is about a hundred miles,” she explained;
“nearly south of here. There’s a sort of trail to
follow through the valleys, but I guess it’s all
burned over.”

“Of course we will take the lady to Doubleday,
Dave?” suggested Hiram.

“Yes, we must do that,” replied the young airman.

Twenty miles covered, the <i>Comet</i> passed the extreme
southern limit of the fire. There was a full
moon, and as darkness came on Dave was able
to still keep track of the landscape.

It was not quite nine o’clock in the evening
when some scattering land lights showed in the
distance.

“That must be Doubleday,” spoke Hiram.

“I think it is,” said the woman. “I have been
there only once or twice with my husband. That
little cluster of lights, I think, is the town
tavern.”

It was in the center of a vacant square back of
this rambling old frontier building, that Dave
brought the <i>Comet</i> to a halt. He left Hiram and
Elmer with the machine. The woman took leave
of them with grateful tears in her eyes.

“I hope my husband has not started back for
home,” she said, anxiously—“I hope he wasn’t
caught in the fire.”

When they got around to the front of the inn,
Dave inquired for her of the landlord as to her
husband. Abel Lyme, she said, his name was.
.bn 105.png
.pn +1
The tavern keeper said he was stopping there, but
was probably just then at the general store. His
wife was so anxious, she could not wait for his
return. The young airman wished to secure some
supplies to make up for what they had been
obliged to throw out of the <i>Comet</i>. Both went
over to the store.

It took Dave half an hour to get through with
his business, ordering the goods he bought sent at
once up to the tavern. It took him half an hour
longer to get rid of the husband of the woman
they had rescued. The grateful fellow, poor as
he was, paid hardly any attention to the loss of
his home. He was so thankful that the lives of
his wife and child were saved, so overcome with
admiration of the daring exploit of Dave and his
comrades, that he overwhelmed the young aviator
with offers of reward clear down to his last dollar.
On his return to the inn Dave found his faithful
assistants guarding the biplane and waiting for
orders.

“What’s the programme?” inquired Hiram
briskly, but stretching himself as if a good nap
would not be unwelcome.

“It’s a fine night for traveling,” remarked the
pilot of the <i>Comet</i>; “but it has been rather a hard
day for us. Every hour counts, of course, but I
think we may do all the better work for a little
rest. Three or four hours sleep will make us
fresh for a non-stop moonlight run about midnight.”
.bn 106.png
.pn +1

“That haymow over there strikes my fancy,”
announced Elmer.

“All right,” replied our hero. “Take your
turn. You, too, Hiram. I’ll stay on guard duty
till you spell me. I expect some supplies from the
general store here.”

“I reckon they’re coming now,” said Hiram.
“I’ll stay and help you get them aboard.”

A man with a loaded pushcart came into view
from the front of the tavern. He was noticed
by the landlord, who talked with him and then
kept up with him until they neared the two young
aviators.

“Why,” exclaimed the tavern keeper, with a
stare at the <i>Comet</i>, “came back, did you?”

“Eh?” spoke Hiram—“came back from
where?”

“S-st!” warned Dave, in an instant making a
broad guess, at least canvassing a quick suspicion
that came into his mind. Then he addressed the
landlord with the words: “We need some store
supplies, and we’ll be very much obliged if you
will allow us to anchor here for a few hours.”

“Sure, sure,” answered the man readily.
“This is an airship, really and true; isn’t it
now?” and the speaker walked clear around the
machine, inspecting it in open-mouthed wonder.
.bn 107.png
.pn +1
“Well, well, what a contrivance. I’ve seen pictures
of these affairs. That’s how I knew what it
was when you flew over the town just after dusk.”

“H’m!” whispered Hiram, nudging his companion
secretly. “I see.”

Dave “saw,” too. An airship had sailed over
a few hours previous! As the young aviator well
knew, it was not the <i>Comet</i>. Naturally, it might
be some one of the other contestants in the great
race around the world. Thinking of his enemies,
however, Dave was wise enough to remain wary
until he was sure of the identity of the machine
referred to by the inn-keeper.

“Where’s the man that came here about an
hour ago?” questioned the landlord, looking over
the young airmen and beyond them.

Dave gave his hand a vague swing westward
and skywards.

“Yes,” nodded the man, “I saw you go that
way. Landed on Lookout Hill, didn’t you?
The man who came here to have his bottle filled
said so. He asked me if I had seen any other
airships around here. There’s a good many of
you for such a light little machine as that of
yours.”

The young airman let the landlord do most of
the talking, replying evasively. Some others, attracted
by curiosity, approached the spot. It was
getting late, however, and nobody stayed long.
.bn 108.png
.pn +1

“Let’s see, where is Lookout Hill from here?”
Dave asked carelessly of the man with the pushcart,
after the inn-keeper had gone away.

“That’s it,” said the man, pointing. “Where
some one’s got a campfire, it looks. See, right
through the trees yonder, beyond the creek.”

“Oh, yes,” replied Dave. “Here’s a dollar
for getting here so promptly with those goods,
and helping us.”

“Now then, Hiram,” said our hero, as the supplies
were placed in the biplane and they found
themselves alone, “it is you and I for a council of
war.”

“I understand,” nodded his lively assistant—“you
mean about the other airship?”

“Just that. One arrived here to-night, as you
know.”

“The landlord mistook our machine for the
one he saw.”

“Yes, and spoke of a man who came here later
from the machine that passed over the town,”
added Dave. “That light the other fellow
showed us is probably the campfire at the landing
place of the airship. I am going to find out who
is in charge of it, friend or foe.”

“Supposing it’s the pirate tramp we saw at
Winnipeg?” propounded Hiram.
.bn 109.png
.pn +1

“Then we know our danger. They evidently
are not aware that we are here. You stay on
guard here. It can’t be more than two miles to
that campfire. I will be back soon.”

“Going to spy on them?” suggested Hiram.

“Yes. I will be back and report just as soon
as I find out who these airmen are,” responded
Dave.

He gave his comrade definite orders to arouse
Elmer if anything suspicious occurred, and to give
an alarm at the tavern if help was necessary.
Then Dave started out on his lonely expedition.

Our hero knew nothing of the traversed route
leading to Lookout Hill. Fortunately the fire
glow in the distance continued.

Dave followed a regular road. A lateral path
led in the direction of the hill. Arrived at its
base, he made his way up one side.

“There is the campfire,” mused the young airman,
as he passed through a thicket on a level with
the glow ahead of him. “Ah, just in time.”

Dave caught hold of a bush and took a downward
swing. He saved himself a good hard fall,
however, by clinging to the bush. The whole face
of the plateau he found was full of treacherous
pits. He proceeded slowly and cautiously now.

A fringe of bushes surrounded the spot where
the campfire was. Dave crept to their edge. One
glance with the radius of the dying glow of the
fire showed him an interesting picture.
.bn 110.png
.pn +1

At one side stood a monoplane. Its dark color
and a peculiar arrangement of the planes enabled
our hero to recognize it at once.

“It is Hiram’s pirate tramp machine, sure
enough,” reflected Dave, “and the men.”

One of these was walking up and down in something
of a rage, it seemed. Propped up against
a tree trunk was a second man, clasping a bottle.
This latter person was swaying as he sat. His
eyes blinked. There was a vacant expression to
his face.

“It’s all right,” he was saying, in a maudlin
state. “Want to sleep.”

“It’s all wrong, you mean!” raved the other
man. “I want to tell you one thing! I shan’t
lose a chance of a thousand dollars to humor a
worthless, irresponsible reprobate like you. I
simply won’t stand it.”

“Then—he! he! sit down,” chuckled the other—“like
I do.”

“I’m through with you,” cried his companion,
in tones of positive fury, and shaking his fist at
the other. “I’ll get the <i>Comet</i> alone. Sleep,
you loafer, and when you wake up find your way
back to Winnipeg on foot as best you can.”

The speaker seized the half-filled bottle and
dashed it to pieces on the nearest rock.

“All right,” mumbled the sitter. “Get some
more.”
.bn 111.png
.pn +1

“Bah, you wretch!” shouted his comrade, and
he gave the swaying, helpless man a kick that sent
him onto his side with a groan.

“I’ll make it alone,” Dave heard the man mutter.

The young aviator knew his bearings now.
There was not the least doubt in the world that
these two men were new emissaries of Wise
through the villain, Vernon. They had been
hired to locate and destroy the <i>Comet</i>.
.bn 112.png
.pn +1
.pm chap XV "STRICTLY BUSINESS"
Our hero had accomplished his mission. He
had learned all that he had come to Lookout
Hill to find out. The two men and their mysterious
machine had been located. Their connection
as accomplices of Dave’s enemies was positive.

“Here is something to think over before we
make a definite move,” reflected the young aviator.
“These fellows will, of course, hear about
us if they go back to the town, which they probably
will do. Then it will be a new, closer chase.”

The professional curiosity of the pilot of the
<i>Comet</i> held him to the spot momentarily. He
made a detour of the campfire. His object was
to inspect the monoplane.

A score of ideas crowded Dave’s thoughts. He
might tell his story to an officer of the town, possibly
have the tramp airship and its crew arrested,
or at least detained. Again, he might quietly
start up the <i>Comet</i>, strike a new route, and count
on outdistancing all pursuers.

Dave glided along in the shelter of the underbrush
until he came up directly to the monoplane.
A near glance told him that it was a superb machine.
Whoever the airmen hired by the wily
Vernon were, they thoroughly understood their
business, that seemed sure.
.bn 113.png
.pn +1

The young aviator was so engrossed in his
inspection of the machine, thinking so fast as to
what was best to do, that he was taken all unawares
as some one nearly ran upon him. It was
the man he had just seen at the campfire.

“Hello, who are you?” shot out the man, and
he paused not five feet from the young airman and
looked him over from head to foot.

“I heard of your machine and came to take a
look at it,” replied Dave, on his guard and watching
his challenger closely, for he had a bad face.

“Oh, you did?” said the fellow, moving a step
nearer. “That’s a strange jacket you wear.
Why, you’re an airman yourself and—you’re
Dashaway!”

The man was too quick for Dave. As he
spoke he made a deft spring. It showed that he
was a natural acrobat. His grip on Dave’s arm
was like iron.

“Let me go. Suppose I am?” demanded
our hero, struggling.

“Well, then I have a little business with you,”
coolly answered his captor. “Oh, you’re Dashaway.
I saw you twice in Winnipeg. Come
on. Tom! Tom!” he called out loudly, to his
.bn 114.png
.pn +1
companion, as he found himself unable to budge
his prisoner, although he weighed nearly double
what Dave did.

The man near the campfire neither responded
nor stirred. He was past helping his comrade.
There was a reason why the young airman was
able to make so sturdy a resistance. His free
hand clutched a sapling right at hand. His foot
he had twisted in among the network of strong
roots.

The combatants stood directly at the edge of
one of the pits that honeycombed the plateau.
Its edge crumbled as the man gave Dave a jerk.

“Look out!” cried our hero, “if you don’t
want both of us to get a tumble.”

“You come on,” ordered his captor, savagely.
“I’ll stand no fooling. Come—on!”

He gave Dave a terrific jerk. It was so forceful
that our hero’s grasp of the tree tore loose,
and he toppled over. In doing so his assailant
lost his balance. He stumbled over Dave’s entangled
foot. In some astonishment the young
aviator found the fellow had completely disappeared
as he got to his feet.

“He’s done for himself, sure enough,” said
Dave, and he peered down into the pit. It was
about twenty feet deep. He heard a groan.
Then he traced a rustling about. His eyes becoming
accustomed to the darkness, Dave was finally
enabled to make out his enemy trying to climb
up the steep sides of the pit.
.bn 115.png
.pn +1

The roots he clutched at gave way in his grasp
and a shower of dirt and gravel drove him back.
The young aviator discerned that the man was not
seriously hurt. He realized also that sooner or
later his enemy would manage to get out of the
pit. If not at once, at least when his now helpless
comrade came to himself, the man would be
rescued.

“He is just where I want him,” thought the
young aviator. “It won’t do to leave him the
machine.”

Dave walked up again to the flying machine.
He soon estimated its condition and capacity. He
found it to be a capable piece of mechanism.

“Hi, stop—Oh, thunder!”

This was shouted out after the runaway as the
machine lifted into the air, Dave at the helm.
Its rightful pilot spoke, but, his call barely completed
as he grasped at the edge of the pit, down
he slid again to its bottom.

Fifteen minutes later the machine dropped to
earth in the field behind the inn at Doubleday,
not a hundred feet from the <i>Comet</i>. Hiram came
running towards it.

“You, Dave?” he called out cautiously.

“With company,” answered Dave promptly.
.bn 116.png
.pn +1

“Gracious! It’s the pirate tramp, isn’t it?”
cried the astonished Hiram. “Why, what does
it mean? How did you manage it?”

“Don’t ask any questions just now,” responded
the young airman. “Wake up Elmer.”

“We’re going to get out of here?”

“Quick as we can. There’s a reason.”

Hiram bolted for the haymow. Elmer very
shortly came up to the spot where Dave stood.

“For mercy’s sake, two of them!” he exclaimed,
rubbing his eyes and staring in surprise
at the captured airship.

“Yes, this is the pirate,” explained the young
pilot. “The fellows who ran it tried to follow
us from Winnipeg. Turn about is fair play, fellows.
Some of the same gang stole our machine
near Washington for a bad purpose. We will
retaliate by borrowing theirs now for a good purpose.”

“Yes,” put in Hiram, with animation, “get
them and the machine safely out of harm’s way.”

“I intend to,” said Dave. “You’ll have to fly
the craft, Hiram.”

“I reckon I can do it,” asserted Hiram
promptly. “What’s your idea, Dave?”

“A two hours’ flight, due west. Then we will
hold a new council of war. We had best not
delay. I don’t know how soon the fellow who
runs that craft may be on our trail.”
.bn 117.png
.pn +1

No one appeared to observe or hinder the airship
boys as they made their preparations to resume
their journey. The pilot of the <i>Comet</i> gave
his trusty assistant explicit orders as to what was
required of him.

The biplane started first from the ground. In
the clear moonlight its course was not difficult to
follow. Soon the leader and its consort were
started on a steady course, due west. Hiram
was in gay humor. Dave had explained the details
of his encounter with the enemy, and the new
pilot of the pirate airship chuckled as he drove
it forward.

The incident had fully awakened Elmer, and
Dave found him good lively company. There
was a rare spice of adventure in the incident of
the night.

“You handled things just grand,” voted Dave’s
enthusiastic admirer. “I wonder how those fellows
are feeling just about this time?”

It was after midnight when the young aviator
directed his companion to take the distance
record.

“Ninety-seven miles,” reported Elmer.

“I guess that will do,” said our hero. “We
are going to land.”

A pleasant stretch of forest glade looked inviting.
The <i>Comet</i> came to anchor. In about
ten minutes the other machine made an easy descent
almost at the side of the <i>Comet</i>.
.bn 118.png
.pn +1

“Well done, Hiram,” commended his friend,
warmly. “Your lessons under old John Grimshaw
are bringing famous results.”

“Glad you think so,” answered Hiram, with
affected indifference, but he looked both pleased
and proud.

“It’s about midnight,” said Dave. “We will
turn in soon as we can, fellows. I will take the
first watch.”

“Going to stay here until daylight?” inquired
Hiram.

“Yes, and for a good breakfast,” replied the
young airman. “We need the rest, and there is
little likelihood of our enemies catching up with us
now.”

“I should say not,” echoed Hiram with a
chuckle.

“No, you have spiked their guns for keeps,
Dave,” added Elmer.

It was a little later than sunrise when Hiram,
on the last watch, woke up his comrades. He
had a fire of twigs going.

“Coffee on the boil, fellows,” he announced
cheerily; “ham done to a turn, and the bread being
a little dry I thought we would have some
buttered toast.”

“Hurrah!” shouted the hungry and jubilant
Elmer. “I feel as if I could eat a
horse.”
.bn 119.png
.pn +1

“Yes, this brisk Canadian air certainly gives
a fellow a great appetite,” declared Dave.

“Next town we stop at,” spoke Hiram, “I
want to get some pancake flour. I’ve been just
hankering for some old fashioned flapjacks. I’ve
got a griddle among the traps, and I know I can
turn out some elegant pancakes.”

“This is good enough for anybody,” insisted
Elmer, his teeth deep in a piece of luscious ham
cooked to a turn.

“Say,” spoke Hiram a few minutes later, “I
strolled around the end of that grove of trees
yonder before I woke you up. There’s a road
just beyond them, and there’s a town not half a
mile away.”

“Is that so?” questioned the young aviator.
“That suits my plans precisely.”

“How is that?” asked Elmer.

“I will show you after breakfast,” replied
Dave.

He got a pad of writing paper from the supply
aboard the biplane. Dave was busy writing for
some time. Then he got the repair outfit of the
<i>Comet</i>.

“Come on, you can help me,” he said to Hiram
and Elmer.

The young airman partially upset the captured
airship. His comrades very soon understood
what this manœuvre meant. Dave removed a
.bn 120.png
.pn +1
dozen or more screws and bolts. Then he unhinged
alternate struts and set to work on the engine.
The parts removed were stored aboard
of the <i>Comet</i>.

“I guess that will cripple the craft enough to
serve our purpose,” said Dave. “I don’t want
to be a vandal and wholly destroy as pretty a
machine as this is.”

“Can’t afford to take any risks with the bad
crowd trying to break us up though,” reminded
Hiram.

“I don’t intend to,” answered Dave. “It will
take a long trip clear back to Winnipeg to replace
those parts. If those fellows we left back at
Doubleday come on after the machine, it will be
fully a week before they can think of taking up
the chase again.”

“By that time we will have reached Alaska;
won’t we, Dave?” queried Elmer.

“And far beyond, if we fill the schedule blocked
out,” replied the young pilot of the <i>Comet</i>. “I’ll
be back soon, fellows.”

Dave lined the grove of trees and was soon lost
beyond it to the present sight of his friends. In
about half an hour he reappeared, walking briskly.

“It’s all right,” he reported. “Get the <i>Comet</i>
in trim.”

“Going to start up, eh?” remarked Elmer.
.bn 121.png
.pn +1

“We had better, I think, to avoid complications,”
said Dave. “The town beyond here has
a telephone service probably, running to Doubleday.
The note I wrote told of the dismantled
machine here. It also explained enough to warrant
a ’phone call, explaining about it, sent to
Doubleday. Those Winnipeg fellows can get their
machine by coming for it.”

“You mean what is left of it,” corrected Hiram.

“I hired a boy I met to take my note to the
postmaster of the town near here,” explained the
young aviator. “I think I have been as fair all
around as we can afford to be under the circumstances.”

“That’s right,” assented Hiram, with vigor,
and Elmer echoed the sentiment.

“The coast is clear—as far as Sitka, anyhow,”
proceeded the young airman. “And now, fellows,”
he added briskly—“business, strictly business.”
.bn 122.png
.pn +1
.pm chap XVI "A SIBERIAN ADVENTURE"
“Brrr-rr!” chattered Hiram Dobbs, with a
shiver. “I say, Dave, have we got to stand this
much longer?”

“I sincerely hope not,” replied the young pilot
of the <i>Comet</i>, in a really concerned tone. “I
hoped to outride the storm. But it appears to
me the snow is coming down thicker and faster
every minute.”

“I’m just about drifted in,” piped up Elmer.

The scene was a vast void, a chaos. The three
young airmen were much in the situation of a ship
driven before a blinding gale in unknown, fog-covered
waters. All bearings were lost. The
angle glide was obscured with snow; Dave resembled
a great white statue. The biplane was the
rushing center of large driving flakes whirling in
eddies all about them.

They had run thus for nearly an hour, but now
the machine, staunch and reliable as it was, threatened
to depart from its usual good conduct record.
The planes were crusted and over-weighted. The
.bn 123.png
.pn +1
bulk of snow Hiram and Elmer tried to dislodge
from other parts of the machine was duplicated
before they could go the entire rounds.

There had been several ominous creaks. Once
the <i>Comet</i> struck an air pocket. Through some
deft but dangerous skidding the pilot evaded this
peril. A sudden change in the wind almost precipitated
a new catastrophe.

“I don’t know what we are going to strike,”
said our hero; “but we’ve got to make a landing.
No machine could stand much more of this.”

“Good,” cried Hiram heartily, as the <i>Comet</i>
made a rapid dive that was nearly a somersault.
“It’s solid land all right. I was afraid it might
be water, and a ducking just now—brrr—rr!”

When Dave had told his friends way back in
Canada that their motto must be “business,
strictly business,” he and they had set themselves
zealously to work to carry out the sentiment.
Dave was an expert airman. The <i>Comet</i> was a
noble machine of its type. They had met with
“good luck,” too, Hiram had insisted. The biplane
crossed the vast stretch of Canadian wilderness
without a mishap.

At Sitka no new trap nor harmful attempt on
the part of their enemies had confronted them.
A government official had been deputized by telegraph
from Washington to receive and identify
the contestants as they arrived. The crew of the
<i>Comet</i> were proud and happy to learn that they
were the first on the scene.
.bn 124.png
.pn +1

They rested a day at Sitka. Dave realized
that the hardest part of the route lay before them.
It was no easy task to pilot a course past Cape
Prince of Wales, across Bering Strait and make
sure of reaching Stamavoie, a point in Kamchatka
where arrangements had been made for
gasoline and other supplies.

Elmer had started keeping what he called a
“log.” During the ensuing six days he had some
odd and spirited incidents to record. They had
left the mild fall weather behind them and encountered
genuine wintry blasts. The expert
young pilot took no unnecessary risks. Their
stops were frequent, and for the most part fortunately
they managed to land near settlements or
habitations. Dave had to accommodate the machine
to new wind conditions. He and his friends
suffered a good deal with the cold. It was now
late afternoon, and according to calculations and
the charts they were traversing Siberian territory.

The storm had not abated one whit as all three
of the boys left the biplane. They found themselves
ankle deep in a soft clinging snow.

“We can’t stay here,” said the young aviator.

“Hardly,” replied Hiram, “unless we want
to see the machine and all hands covered up in a
snowdrift within an hour.”
.bn 125.png
.pn +1

“We have lost our exact reckoning,” added
Dave, “and no landmarks to go by. We are
somewhere between Zashiversh and Virkni.
Probably we have landed on what is known as the
Nijni steppe. It is something of a barren waste,
if I remember right, but dotted here and there
with stations and a few little farms.”

“Wish we could find one of them,” grumbled
Hiram, good naturedly.

“No chance of supper if we don’t,” observed
Elmer.

“See here, fellows, we’ll push the machine
along, anyway, and see what we come to,” remarked
Dave. “Any shelter is better than this
all out of doors position. Even a stretch of timber
or the side of a hill would seem homelike
just now.”

“It’s better to keep moving, anyhow,” declared
Hiram, stamping his feet vigorously. “This will
be a big thing to tell about if we ever get home
again, fellows.”

“Steady,” ordered Dave, and he slowed up
the biplane, the wheels of which ran along pretty
lightly, deep as the snow was. “The ground
is changing. Stop the machine. I’ll prospect a
bit ahead.”

In addition to the enveloping gloom of the
storm, it had begun to get dusk. Dave proceeded
alone. He discovered that the ground was rough
.bn 126.png
.pn +1
and rising. Then he ran against a tree, and clearing
his sight of the obstructing snowflakes he
made out that they had come upon a little stretch
of timber.

“Come on, but cautiously,” he called back to
his comrades.

The <i>Comet</i> was pushed along and halted between
two heavily needled trees, affording it considerable
shelter. Hiram gave a shout of delight
as he discovered a spot where the ground was almost
bare. A double row of immense fir trees
formed a protecting canopy for several yards.

“Come in out of the wet, Dave!” shouted Elmer,
in a jolly tone, joining Hiram, and all hands
shook the snow from their garments.

“Shelter, plenty of fuel and a chance for a
warm meal,” observed Hiram with satisfaction.
“Here’s some good bits of wood,” and he began
gathering up pieces of dead branches with which
the spot was littered.

“I’ll get a lantern,” said Dave, moving over
towards the biplane.

“This is not half bad,” declared Elmer, assisting
his comrade in gathering up the loose fuel.

“Say, what’s that?”

Hiram spoke in a startled tone. He dropped
his armful of wood and stood stock still. Elmer
edged nearer to him.
.bn 127.png
.pn +1

An ominous sound had greeted their hearing.
It was a howl near at hand, sharp and resonant.
Then it was repeated. Staring in the direction
from which the sounds came, Hiram jumped back,
shouting out sharply:

“It’s wolves! Dave, look out! Elmer, grab
a club! Quick! Here they come!”

Scurrying forms came flying into the tree-formed
arcade. The outlines were dim, but none
the less threatening and terrifying. Hiram had
grabbed up a heavy piece of wood. Elmer was
no coward, and did not lose his nerve. He armed
himself speedily as his comrade had done, and
ranged himself by his side.

“It’s wolves,” declared Hiram—“two, three,
half a dozen of them. Stand steady”—whack!

Fiery-eyed, red-tongued, seeming to skim the
ground, the foremost animal of an alarming pack
came flying towards the boys. Hiram had struck
out. The blow was aimed with all his strength
and skill. It sounded like a hammer landing hard
on a thick metal ball.

The animal fell back to all fours and limply
turned to one side. Two others leaped boldly
over its slinking body.

“Strike your hardest,” puffed and panted
Hiram. Whack! whack! One of the new combatants
of the boys limped off with a shattered
paw. The other, infuriated with pain from a
terrific clip across the jaws, made direct for
.bn 128.png
.pn +1
Elmer. Its claws clutched its prey by the
shoulders. Its distended mouth sought the lad’s
throat.

Once, twice, thrice the billet of wood in the
grasp of Hiram arose and descended. The wolf
dropped away, dripping with blood, but Elmer
was saved from its murderous fangs.

“They’re coming,” he cried “A half dozen of
them! Oh, good! It’s all right now.”

Over the imperilled lads and beyond them, and
squarely into the faces of the howling pack, a
great glare suddenly shot out. Dave had caught
the situation at Hiram’s first outcry. He could
not in a hurry reach the armament of weapons
carried by the <i>Comet</i>. The big reflector lantern,
however, was kept always in a handy spot, especially
at nightfall. Dave had secured this.
Lighting it as he ran, he flared its broad beams,
focused to a dazzling brilliancy. The wolves,
blinded and affrighted, drew off with sullen, menacing
growlings.

“Light the fire. It will be an added safeguard,”
ordered the young airman rapidly, and he
moved in a circle, swinging the lantern glow continuously.

Hiram hurriedly got leaves, chips and branches
together in a heap. He flared a match and ignited
it.
.bn 129.png
.pn +1

“Those animals have given us up as hard cases,
I guess,” observed Elmer, with a laugh, half
nervous, but quite triumphant.

“We must draw the machine closer to us,” suggested
Dave. “Help me, Elmer.”

The campfire began to blaze, Dave, with the
lantern, ventured as far as the spot where the
<i>Comet</i> was. With the aid of his companion the
biplane was wheeled a few yards along the arcade,
where it seemed they must make a camp, at least
until the storm abated.

Hiram was getting ready to secure some food
and cooking utensils from the machine, when he
paused, bent his ear, and his face expressed a
new alarm.

“Hark!” he cried out sharply. “What was
that?”
.bn 130.png
.pn +1
.pm chap XVII "A GRATEFUL FRIEND"
The oncoming night in the dreary solitude with
which the young airmen were environed seemed
filled with alarms. All three listened intently.

At a further distance away than at the first,
the renewed howling of the wolves broke forth.
The pack seemed to have chanced upon some new
trail of prey.

“Why,” Hiram was the first to break the thrilling
silence, “do you hear that, fellows?”

“Sleigh bells!” cried Elmer, instantly.

“Yes, and I hear the neighing of horses,”
added our hero. “More than one. Listen!”

Muffled yet unmistakable, the sound of sleigh
bells jangling sharply broke upon the air. There
followed loud echoing neighs. Then there rose a
sudden scream.

“Oh, Dave!” gasped Hiram, “it was a human
voice! A man’s scream, I’ll wager! There
it is again!”

“One of you keep with me,” shouted Dave,
in an urgent tone. “This way!”
.bn 131.png
.pn +1

Seizing the reflector lantern, the young aviator
dashed along the arcade. It was Hiram who first
heeded his order. He had grabbed up the heaviest
club at hand. At the end of the arcade Dave
halted for a moment, confused by the blinding
snow eddies and the dim obscurity.

“That way, straight ahead,” panted the
wrought up Hiram, as another wild scream rang
out.

It was mingled with the echoes of the sleigh
bells in quite another direction. It was mixed
with the baying and howls of the wolves nearer
at hand.

The pilot of the <i>Comet</i> dashed on. The snow
was deep and clogging. Hiram labored at his
heels. The eye of light showed nothing until
they had gone nearly fifty feet. Then its rays
illumined a startling picture.

Upon the snow, lying upon heavy fur robes,
was a man. Supporting himself upon one elbow,
he was slashing about him with a short, horn-handled,
thick-bladed knife. Around him more
than a dozen wolves were seeking to spring upon
and disable him. The minute the light dazzled
the ravenous pack, they drew away, baffled.

The rescued man was clad in heavy furs. His
cap, the gloves he wore, his whole equipment indicated
comfort and wealth. He seemed to take
in the situation at a glance. As he struggled to
his feet, a motion of his hand showed deep gratitude.
.bn 132.png
.pn +1

He shuddered as he bent his ear to catch the
retreating bayings of the wolves. Just a faint
echo of the sleigh bells was now audible. A look
of satisfaction came into the man’s face as he
discovered this. He spoke some words in a
language the young airmen could not understand.
Dave pointed to the campfire, and the man
bowed. Then Hiram helped him pick up the
scattered sleigh robes. Dave leading the way, all
hands started for the arcade.

“Who is he?” whispered the curious Elmer
to Hiram, as the trio came within the radius of
the cheery blaze he had built up with great armfuls
of wood.

“Russian, I guess,” replied Hiram. “He
can’t tell us, though, for we don’t understand
him.”

“Did the wolves attack him?”

“It looks that way. I think the horses got
frightened and ran away. They seemed to have
tipped him and the sleigh robes over into the
snow. I tell you, we reached him just in time, or
those hungry brutes would have had him.”

The rescued man came up to the fire, removing
his gloves and extending his chilled hands towards
the grateful blaze. One coat sleeve had
been ripped from end to end in his encounter
.bn 133.png
.pn +1
with the wolves, his face bore a deep scratch.
Otherwise he seemed uninjured from his recent
thrilling experience.

He glanced strangely and then with interest at
the three boys in turn. He stared hard as his
eye fell upon the biplane. His glance lingered
upon it in a puzzled, studious way. Finally he
turned to its pilot, and extended his hands upwards,
as if imitating a bird flying. Dave
nodded.

Then the man spoke. From the deep
gutterals, mingled long drawn out words and
“skis.” Dave decided that he was speaking in
the Russian tongue, and shook his head. More
mellow and natural sounding, some words followed
which Dave took to be French. He
smiled, but showed that he did not yet understand.

“It is English, then?” spoke the man, with
very fair pronunciation.

“Yes, English—American,” replied Dave,
pleased to be understood. “We stopped our
airship here on account of the storm.”

“It is so?” answered the man. “A few
versts further, and you would have reached the
station. That is Mokiva. I am the superintendent.
You shall come there to share the best
I have. You have saved my poor life.”
.bn 134.png
.pn +1

And then quite solemnly the man went the
rounds. He shook each of his young friends
by the hand, looking them steadily in the
eyes.

Hiram hurried up the meal, got some hot
coffee ready, and passed it around. It warmed
up, and acted as an excellent accompaniment to
some canned pork and beans, some toasted cheese,
and plenty of crackers.

The glow of the fire was penetrating and comforting.
They were seated on the thick, heavy
robes. Hiram was quite jolly over their pleasant
situation.

The rescued man had to talk slowly and pick
his words to make them understand him. He
told them that his name was Adrianoffski. He
was a trader, and lived at Mokiva, about twelve
miles distant. He had been at another station
across country, and had started to return home,
not dreaming that he could not reach it before
dark. The unexpected snowstorm had overtaken
him, and the wolves had gotten after the sleigh.
The tragic climax had been averted by the prompt
action of Dave Dashaway.

It more than compensated the boys for their
trouble as they got better acquainted with the
man. It seemed that he had agents, friends, and
trading stations, all through Russia and in several
Asiatic countries. With some of these he
only exchanged goods, while others he owned.
.bn 135.png
.pn +1
At the end of two hours the interested young
airmen had learned more of real geography right
on the spot than they had ever picked up at
school.

The storm let up finally. An adverse wind,
however, had set in.

“I hardly think we had better risk the hard
work and danger of a run to-night,” our hero
advised his helpers. “We are fairly comfortable
here.”

“That’s right,” assented Elmer, who had been
enjoying it immensely, writing up his “log.”
“We’ll have great fun when we get home in
some snug and cozy corner, telling our friends
of what a real snowstorm is.”

“There’s something!” exclaimed Dave, suddenly,
starting up from his resting place on the
robes.

“Why, it’s another sleigh!” cried Hiram.
“If they see our fire, whoever is coming, we will
have some more company.”

“Ah, it is well,” broke in Adrianoffski, his
eyes brightening. “I much thought they would
seek me.”

The speaker reached inside his heavy coat and
drew out a whistle, and proceeded to blow on this.
It was so small that the boys were fairly amazed
at the shrill, clear, far-reaching sound it made.
The Russian sent out a dozen or more calls.
They seemed timed to some rhythmic signal, for
as the boys listened there was a response.
.bn 136.png
.pn +1

Going to the end of the arcade, they noticed
lights approaching. These outlined three horses
attached to a sleigh bearing lamps. The vehicle
came directly up to them and halted. Two men
leaped from the sleigh and approached their employer
with pleased words.

“My horses ran home, as I thought they
would,” Adrianoffski explained to the boys, after
conversing with his servants in their native
dialect. “My people at once started out to find
me. Ah, this is excellent. You shall partake of
the best at Mokiva this night.”

“We would be glad to go with you,” said
Dave, “but we dare not leave our machine unguarded.”

“Unguarded?” repeated the Russian with
forcefulness. “My friends, you know not the
fidelity of these, my people. They shall remain
here all night, and your airship shall be guarded
as though it were pure gold. Fear nothing, these
men are trusty and tried.”

A thought of all Adrianoffski might tell them
of practical details of their route ahead, induced
the young airman to agree to his wishes. He
made sure that the Russian instructed his
servants as to due watchfulness in their vigil. It
was understood that they should be brought back
.bn 137.png
.pn +1
to the camp very early in the morning. Then
the boys, muffled up in cold-defying fur robes,
took a real bracing Russian sleigh ride.

They found that the station comprised two
large warehouses. In one of these Adrianoffski
had his living quarters. They were comfortable,
even luxurious. Nothing would do but that another
meal should be served. Then the host of
the airship boys took them to his office and library
combined.

Our hero had explained at the camp on the
steppe about their proposed race around the world.
Adrianoffski was deeply interested. He had a
large globe showing the world, and he made
Dave indicate the route they had come, and the
proposed one ahead. In turn, with considerable
pride he showed red crosses he had made in red
ink all over European and Asiatic Russia, Persia,
Turkey and Northern Africa.

“I have learned something of many languages
and peoples,” he said. “As you see, I have posts
or stations all over this part of the world. You
saved my life. Let me direct you to good
friends, who will surely cherish you for that
kindly act.”

Dave passed his finger over that part of the
globe marked Thibet. For a long time he questioned
the trader.
.bn 138.png
.pn +1

“There is a wonderful city there, called
Lhassa,” observed the young airman. “You
know of it?”

“I know of it,” assented Adrianoffski—“ah,
well, indeed. It is here, a few versts only from
Lhassa, that my trusted partner, Ben Mahanond
Adasse, has his great depot. He trades solely
in Thibet. You would go there?”

“To Lhassa, yes,” answered Dave.

“Impossible!” exclaimed the Russian, with
almost startling force. “My son, you know not
what you say. Lhassa—it is the city of mystery,
the sacred metropolis of the tried and chosen.
For an outsider to appear at its gates is capture—life
imprisonment. For a foreigner to penetrate
to its secret recesses, is sure death.”

“But your partner, this Ben Mahanond
Adasse?” questioned the young aviator, “I
could visit him without risk?”

“With certain welcome,” promptly responded
Adrianoffski. “He is powerful, he is favored.
He could protect you. But go no further than
his home, lest you go to your doom. As to my
partner—see, I give you a talisman, a token.”

The Russian removed from his finger a large
seal ring, and pressed it into the hand of Dave
Dashaway.
.bn 139.png
.pn +1
.pm chap XVIII "IN STRANGE LANDS"
Dave and his boy friends had no cause to regret
their meeting with Adrianoffski. Their stay
at the trading station, brief as it was, had given
new impetus and encouragement to the expedition.
The Russian gave them points as to their route
that enabled them to save time and distance. Besides
that, he named places where they might stop
and be assured of friendly and helpful service
from his agents.

“I tell you, meeting Mr. Adrianoffski was fine
luck,” said Hiram, enthusiastically, one morning,
as they started up for the day’s flight. “We are
pretty sure to reach Lhassa without much
trouble; aren’t we, Dave?”

“To reach its vicinity, you mean,” corrected
the young airman. “I am greatly depending on
this Ben Mahanond Adasse to whom our Russian
friend has directed us.”

They had left the severe wintry blasts behind
them two days flight out of Mokiva. While the
weather was not at all summery, the milder
.bn 140.png
.pn +1
climate as they proceeded southward was in
pleasing contrast to what they had endured in
the bleak and barren solitude of Siberia.

So far everything had gone pretty close to
the schedule the pilot of the <i>Comet</i> had laid out
when they left Washington. They reached
stations as planned. There was no trouble in
securing gasoline and other supply stores. Then,
too, there were pleasant breaks in their arduous
flights. The ring Adrianoffski had given Dave
acted magically when shown at depots along the
route to which he had directed him.

It was at Kolyvan that a full day’s stop had
to be made. There were some machine repairs
necessary. Through telegrams and newspapers
the airship boys were able to glean some information
as to their competitors in the race.
Out of the twelve that had started only four had
reached Sitka. The closest rival was machine
number seven, reported at that point six hours
after the <i>Comet</i> had left.

The machine crossed Thibetan territory about
noon time. Dave was able to determine this
from charts, points given by Adrianoffski, and
the contour of the district. It was an interesting
panorama they viewed all the rest of that day.
They passed over great camel trains traversing
the barren plains. They had a chance to see the
native yaks, trained to perform all the duties of
.bn 141.png
.pn +1
horses. The extensive lamaseries, or monasteries,
some of them built on the very apex of well-nigh
inaccessible cliffs, amazed them.

The <i>Comet</i> was viewed by gaping groups
whenever they passed over a settlement. Dave
had a town called Zirva for his evening destination.
It was near here that Ben Mahanond
Adasse had his trading station. The young air
pilot calculated upon arriving after dark. It
might interfere with his plans to have the <i>Comet</i>
publicly seen so near to the sacred city of mystery.

“Judging from the landmarks described by
Mr. Adrianoffski,” said Dave, towards the middle
of the afternoon, “I think we are quite near to
Zirva.”

“That is the trading post of his partner?”
spoke Hiram.

“Yes,” nodded the young aviator. “Those
glittering spires and domes in the distance must
be Lhassa. We must look for a secure and
secluded landing place.”

This they found soon afterwards. It was at
the edge of a rugged hill. Beyond it were some
straggling settlements, but the <i>Comet</i> was
screened from these as it approached the hill
from the east.

“I don’t care about attracting the attention of
the natives,” explained our hero. “They are
quite fanatical, and have probably never seen an
.bn 142.png
.pn +1
airship before. They might think it some demon
of the air, or an infernal machine come to destroy
their gods and temples.”

“Yes, I think myself we had better keep in the
background as much as we can,” agreed Hiram.
“It would be a pity to have a mishap now, with
the hardest part of the route covered.”

“But how are you going to locate this
Adasse?” inquired Elmer.

“According to what Mr. Adrianoffski told
us,” replied Dave, “his station cannot be more
than a few miles from here.”

“What’s your plan about finding him, Dave?”
asked Hiram.

“Why, as soon as it gets dusk I will venture
down into the valley there. You two will stay
here on guard. Keep ready for a quick flight,
if any of the natives discover the machine.”

The trio enjoyed the luxury of a grateful rest
on the ground while they conversed. Hiram,
speedy to recuperate and always active, strolled
away from his comrades. He looked out over
the country. Then he became interested in watching
a man just below the point where the <i>Comet</i>
had landed.

“Say fellows,” he observed briskly, coming
back to his friends; “if you want to see something
queer just take a peep over the edge of
that rock yonder.”
.bn 143.png
.pn +1

“What is it, Hiram?” inquired Elmer.

“You have to come with me to find out,” was
the reply. “I can’t imagine what a funny old
fellow down below there is up to.”

“All right, we’ll take a look,” said Dave.

“There he is,” pronounced Hiram, after the
others had followed him a little distance, and he
pointed past a shelving rock.

On the level of the valley below a native was
squatted before a flat boulder. He held in his
hand a comical metal object with an ivory handle.
He seemed turning the handle. The boys, even
at the distance they were, could hear a click-clack
sound, apparently proceeding from the device.

“Say, whatever is that contraption?” asked
the puzzled Hiram.

“Looks like a cross between a nutmeg grater
and a music box,” suggested Elmer.

Dave ventured no opinion. Like the others
he continued to watch the curious pantomime of
the native. The lips of the man moved incessantly,
making a dull monotonous drone.
Finally he placed the device on the stove before
him and closed his eyes.

His body swayed and he flung his arms aloft.
Then he bent his forehead clear to the ground.
All the time he kept up a steady monotone.
.bn 144.png
.pn +1

Finally he arose to his feet and picked up a
knapsack and a long, sharp-pointed spear. He
was about to resume his way. Just then a huge
bird resembling an eagle, only snowy white,
sailed down from a tree on the hillside. It
swooped over the boulder and made a peck at
its surface. The next moment it soared aloft,
the trinket in its bill.

The native uttered a wild, frantic shriek. Of
a sudden he was transposed into a being denuded
of reason. As the bird flew up over the
crest of the hill, the man cast himself prostrate
on the ground; writhing there in agony. Beating
his head with his hands, his face distorted, he
acted like some person in a fit.

“Well, that’s something odd to see,” began
Hiram—“what is it, Dave?”

The young airman had watched the course of
the thieving bird, eagle, macaw, crow, or whatever
it was. He saw the bird sail along until its
glance fell upon the biplane. Then it dropped
to one of the wings. The bauble retained in
its bill, it walked over to one of the seats, dropped
its prize, and began pecking at the seat cushions.

Our hero was on his feet in an instant of time.
He ran towards the machine, intent on scaring
away the predatory intruder. Dave had picked
up a stick. This he hurled at the bird. It gave a
sullen croak and took to wing, disappearing on
the other side of the hill.
.bn 145.png
.pn +1

The young airman was curious and interested
enough to lean over into the body of the machine
and secure the object dropped by the bird.
He was viewing it critically and with some comprehension
of its use, when his comrades joined
him.

“What is it, Dave?” queried Hiram eagerly.
“That old fellow below yonder is tearing up the
ground and rolling all about in a fearful fashion.”

“I know what it is,” pronounced Dave, “and
I think we had better get it back to its owner
and save some mischief for him. This is what
is called a prayer mill. See, this handle turns
a silken scroll on a reel all covered with
queer-looking characters. These represent the
prayers the Thibetans make to their great idol,
Da-Fan-Jan. The priests supply them to the
worshippers. They are highly prized. I have
read about them, and have seen pictures of these
queer prayer mills, as they call them.”

“You’re not going down there to give it back
to the native; are you?” asked Hiram; in some
surprise, as Dave looked about him to discover
the easiest way of descending the hillside.

“Yes, I think I had better,” was the reply.
“You don’t know how these superstitious people
value such charms. This prayer mill may have
been cherished in that man’s family for centuries.
It is regarded an heirloom, and the person losing
it probably thinks he is condemned if he does not
recover it.”
.bn 146.png
.pn +1

Our hero hurried his steps. Descending the
hillside alone he chanced to glance at the native.
The man had now arisen to his feet. All his violent
manner had disappeared. His face wore a
look of sullen despair.

He had taken his spear and fastened its end
stoutly under an edge of the boulder in a slanting
position. Its keen point showed breast high.
The man had retreated some twenty feet. There
he stood posed for a run. Dave recalled something
he had read of the hari-kari of the rude
Asiatic tribes. Suicide, swift and terrible, was
the rule where some great loss, disgrace, or
bereavement unsettled the mind.

“He means to impale himself with all his force
on that spear point and end his life,” decided the
young aviator. “Hoi-hoi!”

Just in time did Dave distract the native from
his tragic purpose. He fairly tumbled down the
hill as the man, running at full speed, had almost
reached the waiting instrument of death. Dave’s
shout made him waver. As he dangled the
prayer mill towards the wretched man, the latter
came to a pause like a statue.

The eyes of the native were glued to the
amulet as if he was fascinated. To his overheated
fancy Dave possibly suggested some
“white god” sent from the clouds to restore the
precious prayer mill.
.bn 147.png
.pn +1

The young airman came directly up to the
native and extended the trinket. The dark, bony
hand of the devotee reached out and clasped it.
He burst into tears, kissed it, caressed it. He
thrust it into his bosom, and raising his arms in
wild gyrations began a shrill, joyful chant.

When it was concluded he cast himself on the
ground. Crawling abjectly he embraced Dave’s
knees. He lifted his eyes in gratitude.

A stout steel chain bearing at one end a serviceable
watch and at its other the ring
Adrianoffski had given Dave, met the glance of
the grateful suppliant.

“Oi-e! oi-e!” he suddenly shouted. His
fingers touched the ring. His eyes, showing an
intelligence he could not express, rested on the
face of the young aviator.
.bn 148.png
.pn +1
.pm chap XIX "STRANGE COMPANIONS"
Our hero was not slow in discovering that the
native saw something in the ring he wore which
centered his attention and interest. As Dave
smiled and looked upon him in a friendly way,
the man showed less strangeness and timidity.

He touched the ring now and arose to his feet.
He again touched the ring and then two of his
fingers. Dave fancied that he understood his
companion. He believed that the man wished to
inform him that there was another ring—two
rings, both alike.

Then the native again inspected his restored
prayer mill. He gazed at it fondly, with a great
smile of joy. He pointed at the spear and
shuddered and shrank away from it. Then he
fairly beamed on the young airman. He
dropped to the ground and placed Dave’s foot
on his neck. He acted as if he wanted his new
friend to know that he was his slave for life.

.bn 149.png
.pn +1
After the man had gone through all these
manœuvers Dave held up the ring. The native
made a motion to describe a long flowing beard.
Adrianoffski wore such and doubtless his
partner did also. Now our hero felt certain that
not only was the ring familiar to the native, but
likewise that he was telling that its duplicate belonged
to Ben Mahanond Adasse, and that he
knew the merchant.

“Where?” spoke Dave, and exhausted his
pantomimic skill in trying to express the word in
signs. He pointed first in one direction and then
in the other. His companion followed every
gesture he made intently, seeming anxious to understand
what he meant.

The man pointed to the southwest, and moved
his finger along the horizon. He tried to express
distance. The young aviator by signs conveyed
the idea that he wished to see the owner
of the other ring, the man with long flowing
beard.

The native nodded a dozen times with intelligence
and satisfaction. He promptly took
up his knapsack and spear and faced about, posed
to assume the part of a guide.

The pilot of the <i>Comet</i> did not wish to leave
his friends without apprising them of his intentions.
He motioned to the native to remain
where he was. He then went up the hillside
about half way. He knew that his comrades
could now hear him.
.bn 150.png
.pn +1

Dave in a sing-song voice, so as not to make
the native suspect that he was speaking to anybody,
managed to tell Hiram and Elmer as to
his plans. When he came back to the valley the
man started away and Dave followed him.

It was not more than three miles from the
hill that they began to near a high enclosure. It
was formed of high, thick stakes driven close
together, and was a kind of palisade. The native
halted at its rear. He selected one knotted
stake and ran up it with the agility of a monkey.
He disappeared on the other side. Then there
was the sound of a metal latch moving, and a
section of the palisade opened. Dave’s guide
pulled him inside a yard. He led the way to a
flat, broad building that filled all the front of the
place. They entered a room dimly lighted, piled
high with furs, pelts and wicker boxes of
merchandise. It was a great warehouse, the
young airman surmised, stored with rich silks
from Persia, teas from China, ivory and oils
from India, and miner’s supplies for the secret,
guarded gold mines of Thibet.

When they came to a door with a sash in its
upper part, Dave glanced curiously through this
window. The front of the building was open.
Upon platforms there were displayed in great
confusion all kinds of goods. A noisy throng was
bartering and bustling about, as if it was some
.bn 151.png
.pn +1
street fair. Beyond them were rude wooden
wheeled vehicles, and yaks, camels, and even
bison, used as beasts of burden.

Rude and uncultured as the native was, his
loyalty to Dave seemed to arouse some instinct
of caution. He motioned his companion to remain
where he was, and passed out into the
emporium. In a very few minutes he returned
with a long-bearded man. Dave noted his
resemblance in feature and dress to Adrianoffski.

“It is Mr. Adasse?” spoke Dave.

The merchant bowed assentingly, but stared
wonderingly at his visitor. It appeared that few
persons foreign to the country ventured thus far
into Thibet.

“I came from Mr. Adrianoffski,” explained
Dave. “He gave me this ring,” and our hero
exhibited the object in question.

“Ah, then, you must be a very good friend,”
exclaimed the Russian, his face brightening into
a warm welcome at once. “My poor roof, as
was his, is yours.”

Adasse led Dave to a far end of the house,
where there was a comfortable room. Its owner
spoke English quite as well as his partner. He
told his guest that he would get through his
trading as quickly as possible, and return to entertain
him.
.bn 152.png
.pn +1

This did not occur for nearly an hour. It was
dusk by then, lamps were lit, curtains drawn, and
two native servants brought in an appetizing
meal.

All this time the native to whom Dave had
restored the prayer mill lay down upon a mat
in the room. Adasse explained to his guest that
the man was named Faiow. He was a trusted
agent, sometimes employed by Adasse in making
sales to persons in Lhassa.

The young airman found Adasse to be quite as
kindly disposed towards him as Adrianoffski had
been. Dave inquired closely as to Lhassa and
its mysteries. Finally he made up his mind to
implicitly trust his host.

>From an inner pocket Dave drew a photograph.
It was the one furnished to him at Washington
by Miss Edna Deane. The picture of her
missing brother.

“I have come a long distance to find this man,”
said Dave. “He is an explorer, detained in
Lhassa.”

“You expect to find him!” exclaimed Adasse,
in a startled tone. “Ah, my friend, you seek
death in even speaking of it, should one of the
faithful hear you. Many rash explorers and adventurers
have ventured to pass the gates of
Lhassa. They have never returned.”

The speaker as well as the young airman
started as a voice behind them uttered a sharp
intelligent sound. It proceeded from Faiow,
who, unheeded by them, had been moving about
the room. Looking up, Dave saw the man with
his eyes fixed upon the photograph.
.bn 153.png
.pn +1

“Speak to him,” said Dave, quickly. “I believe
that picture suggests something to him.”

Adasse directed some questions in the native
tongue to Faiow, and there was quite a colloquy
between them. Then the Russian turned to his
guest with the words:

“He knows the man. He has seen him.”

“Where? when?” inquired Dave, eagerly.

“He does not tell. He says he will take you
where you, too, may see him.”

“Take me into Lhassa?” asked Dave, wonderingly.

“Yes. His gratitude towards you is almost
fanatical. Let me question further.”

It was at the end of a second conversation with
the native that Adasse imparted some new information
to the young aviator.

“Faiow has the right of entry to Lhassa as a
trader,” he explained. “Once a week he carries
dates boiled in wild honey to the great temple of
Oi-Fou-Jan. It is there that he has seen a man,
a stranger, the face in that picture. He says
there are several of these intruders in the city.
They have been imprisoned in strong dungeons,
or given menial work to do for the priests. The
grand Llama will not permit them to be executed,
for the blood of such is believed to profane the
sacred city.”
.bn 154.png
.pn +1

“But how will it be possible for me to visit
the city?” inquired our hero.

“Faiow will arrange all that, he says,” replied
Adasse. “You wish to know where your
friend is?”

“Yes,” nodded Dave.

“He promises to show you. No outsider is
allowed to enter the city gates unveiled. He says
it is better to go now. He will provide you with
a garb like his own. Weekly he carries two bags
of dates boiled in honey to the city priest. You
will help him, appearing as his servant. You
will probably pass muster. But, if you are suspected,
it will mean sure death.”

“I am ready to take the risk,” pronounced
the young airman, resolutely.

It was half an hour later when Dave started
for the sacred city with the native. Each carried
a bag, each wore the native costume, and
each was veiled.

The pilot of the <i>Comet</i> knew that his fellow
aviators would take good care of the biplane.
He was anxious primarily to find out where
young Deane was imprisoned. He did not understand
the Thibetan tongue, and therefore could
not converse with his guide. He felt sure, however,
that he could rely on the fidelity and intelligence
of Faiow.
.bn 155.png
.pn +1

They reached the gates of the city in about
two hours. Faiow and his companion were admitted
without challenge. Dave was filled with
interest at all the strange sights he viewed. Immense
temples and queerly constructed stores
and houses were on every hand. A busy populace
filled the lighted streets. Faiow finally
reached a temple, in front of which was a great
squat idol, its feet alone ten feet across. Its
hideous head reached up nearly to the roof of a
high, broad, stone pillar-shaped structure.

In front of it Faiow halted. He touched the
arm of his companion to attract his attention,
and pointed to the roof of the building. This
was guarded with a sort of railing. At intervals
along this lamps were burning.

Ever and anon a bird resembling a stork would
light on the railing. A man approached them,
bearing on the end of a golden rod a fragment
of food. He would feed this to a bird, and then
go to another of his feathery visitors.

The young airman thrilled, as in the full flare
of the many lights he closely studied the face of
this strange hermit aloft. Even at that distance
he was able to observe that the lone roof sentinel
was not a native.

“It is my man,” spoke the young pilot of the
<i>Comet</i> to himself. “I have found the missing
Morris Deane!”
.bn 156.png
.pn +1
.pm chap XX "RESCUED"
The native uttered a low, warning sound, and
touched the arm of the young aviator. Dave
was absorbed in studying the singular being on
the roof of the structure, but at a glance he saw
a street guard approaching. He knew that the
movements of his companion urged him not to
arouse any suspicion. He followed him as he
turned away.

Our hero took a final view of the pillar-like
building and its surroundings. He tried to fill his
mind with landmarks so he could locate it again.
Not, however, by the land route. Dave Dashaway
realized that the biplane must play a part in
his plans if he hoped to succeed in the rescue of
young Deane.

“What does it mean—the strange situation of
my friend?” was Dave’s first question, after
he and his guide had returned to the trading post.

Adasse spoke for a long time in his native
tongue to Dave’s guide. Then he explained:

“Your friend is a perpetual prisoner on the
roof where you saw him.”
.bn 157.png
.pn +1

“But for what purpose?” inquired our hero.

“A true devotee must not touch an evil bird;
it is contagious, they think, nor a sacred bird
either,” continued the Russian; “it is sacrilege.
The duty of your friend is to keep the unclean
birds away from the sacred pillar in the daytime.
At night he feeds the sacred birds with honeyed
dates. They know the food is awaiting them and
come nightly.”

“He is there alone, then?” asked Dave.

“He lives always on duty on that roof,” replied
Adasse. “There, I suppose, he has a
shelter of some kind, probably a tent. There is
a grating in the roof. Through this his food is
probably passed to him. Beyond it and around
the pillar are constantly armed guards.”

“You have done a great deal for me,” said
Dave gratefully. “I must leave you now.”

“I shall forget all you have told me,” observed
the Russian, significantly; “except that it
has been pleasant to entertain a friend of my
partner. There is nothing I may do for you?”

“There is this,” replied the young aviator—“Mr.
Adrianoffski has given me the address of
an agent fifty miles west of here. I wish you
would explicitly direct me to him.”

After receiving and memorizing his information,
Dave proceeded at once to rejoin his
friends. The native insisted on going with him
.bn 158.png
.pn +1
as far as the hill. When they parted he handed
Dave a basket bag. Then through signs and
grimaces he tried to indicate the gratitude he
felt towards the restorer of his precious prayer
mill.

It must have been after midnight when Dave
reached the summit of the hill. He found
Hiram seated near the <i>Comet</i>, armed with one
of the rifles the machine carried. Elmer lay
asleep on the ground.

“All safe and sound, eh?” commended the
young airman, in a pleased tone.

“Yes, we haven’t been discovered or visited,”
reported his loyal assistant. “We began to
wonder what kept you away so long, though.”

“Wake up, Elmer, and I’ll tell you both all
about it,” announced Dave.

His two friends listened with the intensest interest
to his narrative. Hiram glanced curiously
at the basket bag as Dave spoke of it.

“Wonder what’s in it?” questioned Elmer.

“I’ll find out,” suggested Hiram.

It proved to contain over a dozen packages.
These were wicker covered porcelain jars. Removing
their covers, Hiram smacked his lips
with satisfaction as he sampled their contents.

“Say,” he gloated, “just sample these dainties!
Why, it beats homemade molasses candy all hollow!”
.bn 159.png
.pn +1

All hands did some “sampling.” They found
preserved ginger, honeyed dates, some melon rind
finely flavored—in fact a series of native confections
as toothsome as they were rich and
novel.

“What’s the programme now, Dave?” inquired
Hiram, the spell of feasting concluded.

“Morris Deane, of course,” responded the
young airman, promptly.

“To-night; right away?” asked Elmer.

“We must lose no time getting on our route,”
replied our hero. “It seems to me that we have
been most fortunate in meeting the people who
have assisted us so grandly in locating the man
we are after. I feel positive I can find the
structure where I saw Deane. Its roof is large
enough for a safe descent. Get ready, fellows.”

“Say, it will be a great feather in your cap if
you get this Mr. Deane safely away from there;
won’t it, Dave?” spoke Hiram.

“I hope to do just that,” replied the pilot of
the <i>Comet</i>, confidently. “You can imagine what
joy his friends will feel to have him restored to
them.”

“Especially that pretty little miss who drove
up to the hangar near Washington in that automobile,
Dave,” suggested Elmer, mischievously.

The <i>Comet</i> was in starting trim, and the young
aviators took their places. The air and the
breeze showed ideal conditions for an easy
flight.
.bn 160.png
.pn +1

There was clear moonlight, but Dave counted
on the city being asleep. As he neared it, however,
the bright lamps on the top of towers and
temples caused him to take to a high area to avoid
being discovered.

Circle after circle he described in a narrowing
course, at last making sure that he had located
the structure he had visited with the native. He
indicated this to his comrades. All of them were
infused with suspense and expectation.

The expert young aviator hovered over the
structure. He estimated time, distance and risks.
The <i>Comet</i> made a superb dip. It skimmed the
parapet of the pillar and landed silently on the
roof. In doing so, however, one of its wings
tipped over one of the many ornate lamps lining
the sides of the enclosure.

Dave sprang from the machine, his eye fixed
on a small skin tent at one corner of the roof.
Glancing within it, he saw lying upon a mat the
man the native had pointed out to him six hours
previous. Our hero seized his arm and shook
him.

“Quick Mr. Deane!” he called out. “We are
friends—friends from your people.”

Startled and confused at the suddenness of the
waking up, the pillar sentinel sprang to his feet.
He seemed about to rush towards the grating in
the roof to sound an alarm.
.bn 161.png
.pn +1

“Look, look,” continued Dave, rapidly, producing
the picture of Edna Deane. “It is your
sister! She sent this as a token! Quick, now!”

“Dave, make haste!” called out Hiram,
sharply. “There’s something wrong!”

The young airman almost dragged the bewildered
captive across the roof. He acted in a
great hurry, for something had emphasized
Hiram’s warning cry. A series of yells rang
through the grating in the roof. Beyond it a
man was dancing up and down in frantic state of
excitement.

The pilot of the <i>Comet</i> at once decided that
this must be some watchman or sentinel. He had
discovered the arrival of the airship. Now he
was shouting out the news of his discovery,
probably to others within the structure.

Another cause of alarm was an incipient blaze
directly on the roof. The lamp that the wing of
the biplane had overturned had spilled its contents.
The oil had ignited, some rugs had
taken fire, and the blaze had caught a canopy
near by. The <i>Comet</i> itself was menaced by the
rising blaze. Dave reached the machine and gave
rapid orders to his assistants.
.bn 162.png
.pn +1

“Get in, quick!” he directed his companion,
but the rescued captive was too overcome to act
for himself. Hiram helped pull him over into
his own seat, vacating this and getting into the
storage space behind it.

Dave got to the pilot post at once, and glanced
back. Elmer was flapping back the encroaching
flames with a robe. Just then the grating in the
roof was unlocked. Up through it came a dozen
native guards.

But for the fact that these men were so
startled at the unusual scene presented to them,
the <i>Comet</i> and its passengers might never have
left the mystic city of Lhassa. Thrown off their
mental balance by a sight of the unfamiliar machine,
the guards stood staring helplessly about
and then rushed forward to extinguish the fire
on the roof.

“That was a tight squeeze,” gasped Hiram
Dobbs.

“We’re safe—grand!” cried the relieved
Elmer.

The man they had rescued shrank back as the
<i>Comet</i> arose like some great bird. Just then the
loud brazen notes of an alarm bell sounded out.
Then some shouts followed the speeding biplane.
Leaving a vast turmoil behind them, the airship
boys glided off into space, over the city, past its
outer walls, making straight west for the haven
of safety Dave had in view.
.bn 163.png
.pn +1

The young airmen did not attempt to converse
with the rescued Deane. The latter, thin, pale
and weak, was overcome with the excitement of
the past few minutes. He sat like one in a daze,
staring in marvelling wonder at the receding
landscape. He made no move when Elmer
belted him into the seat. He could not yet
realize his removal from the wretched post of
servitude which he had lately filled.

It was a lucky thing for our hero that Ben
Mahanond Adasse had given him explicit directions
as to the trading post fifty miles away
from Lhassa, where Adrianoffski had another
partner. It saved time and enabled a direct
route, and two hours later the <i>Comet</i> descended
to the ground in an open space behind a warehouse
on the edge of a native settlement.

“Look after our friend and keep a sharp lookout,”
Dave directed his assistants, and left the
machine and walked around to the front of the
building nearby.

There were no lights or signs of habitation
about the place. The young aviator seized a
weighted cord suspended from a hook near the
entrance to the building. He swung this time
and again against the door.

A gleam of light soon showed, and the door
was unbarred. A man wearing a fez appeared, a
suspicious blink in his sleepy eyes. He stared
challengingly at the disturber.
.bn 164.png
.pn +1

“You are Talzk Prevola?” inquired our hero,
at once.

“An English!” exclaimed the man. “I am he
whom you bespeak. But what of you?”

Dave produced the signet ring. As before
along the journey its magical effect was immediate.

“It is from Adrianoffski,” said the trader.
“You are welcome. Enter, my son. The place
is yours.”

Dave was sure that the man was Prevola, and
he was just as certain that he could be trusted implicitly.
He briefly spoke of his acquaintance
with Mr. Adrianoffski and the claim he held
upon his confidence and gratitude.

“I have a friend,” explained our hero, “who
must be conveyed quickly and safely to the nearest
railroad point in Russia. He must be taken
out of Thibet speedily and secretly.”

“The order of my friend’s friend is law with
me,” declared Prevola, gravely. “You but
speak, I obey.”

“I will shortly return,” said Dave, and he
went out to the biplane and approached it.

“I wish to have a talk with you,” he said to
Morris Deane. “Help him out, Elmer.”

The rescued young man was assisted from the
machine. Our hero linked his arm in Deane’s in
a friendly, reassuring way. He led him to where
a pile of wood lay and made him sit down beside
him.
.bn 165.png
.pn +1

“Mr. Deane,” he said, gently, “you understand
that we are friends sent to rescue, to save
you?”

“I am just trying to comprehend it all,” was
the reply, in a wavering tone of voice. “It
seems incredible, astounding,” and the speaker
passed his hand over his face in a vague manner.

“Try and realize it all,” urged the young airman,
“for time is precious.” And then our hero
told all that there was to tell.

Each succeeding moment Morris Deane
seemed to take in more clearly the extraordinary
disclosures the young pilot had to make.

“I never dared dream of escape, of a rescue,”
spoke Deane. “And you and your friends have
done this noble act! Can I ever show my gratitude?
Think of it, that hopeless life at Lhassa,
and now freedom—freedom!”

The speaker threw up his hands in an ecstatic
way. He looked at his rescuer with tears in his
eyes.

“Yes,” replied the young airman, “it is freedom—your
anxious father—your devoted sister—a
fortune awaiting you and—home!”
.bn 166.png
.pn +1
.pm chap XXI "WAR"
“What was that, Dave?” asked Hiram
Dobbs.

“War,” replied the young pilot of the <i>Comet</i>,
and he used the word very seriously, “we have
taken the wrong course, but there’s no going back
now.”

The champion biplane was sailing over a broad,
deep valley two hours after dusk. Everything
was in brisk going trim. The days that had
elapsed since the rescued captive, Morris Deane,
had been cared for by the young airmen had
passed pleasantly. They had crossed Russia, had
reported at Teheran, had seen some of the
wonders of Arabia, and now were traversing
Turkish territory.

The affairs of young Deane had been adjusted
with supreme satisfaction for our hero. It
warmed his loyal heart to think that through the
unselfish efforts of the crew of the <i>Comet</i>, the
brother of Edna Deane was now speeding safely
and comfortably on his way to those who had
mourned him.
.bn 167.png
.pn +1

The trader friend of Adrianoffski had done
everything in his power to make sure the homeward
journey of the fugitive. The young airman
had insisted on paying him liberally for his cooperation.
He had arranged so that Morris
Deane could be provided with money current in
the different countries through which he must
pass. The trader was to convey Deane out of
Thibet concealed in a cart carrying merchandise.
He was to be provided with a disguise. Until he
passed the Russian frontier and was placed upon
a train bound for St. Petersburg, two trusty
agents were to accompany and protect him.

The boys felt happy over all this. They had
lost little time and gained some experience in doing
a humane act. Then the regular schedule of
progress was resumed. Now, as noted, Hiram
had put a startling question. The pilot of the
<i>Comet</i> had responded with an ominous assertion.

When Hiram had asked: “What was that?”
a sudden glare in the distance followed by a
harsh, detonating crash had caused his sudden
query.

Our hero had explained that it was “War.”
He intimated further that this was a possible
menace to their expedition, in that they might not
retrace the route they had come.

“I hoped to keep out of the Turkish trouble,”
proceeded the young airman; “but we must take
the edge of it, I fear. You know we passed over
a great military camp just before dusk.”
.bn 168.png
.pn +1

“Yes, and they sent a brisk volley after us,”
reminded Hiram.

“Without calculating the way the <i>Comet</i> can
fly,” added Elmer, with a chuckle.

“We had better keep at a pretty high level just
the same,” observed Dave. “I will be glad when
we get out of these intricate mountain ranges.
Then we can see what is ahead of us and get our
bearings.”

Just then another explosion sounded. It was
mingled with a series of minor reports, echoing
from past the ridge of hills to the East.

“That sounded like a powder mill blowing up,
followed by a lot of musket shots,” suggested
Hiram.

“I have no doubt that it was a bomb,” replied
Dave. “Fighting is going on somewhere beyond
us.”

For some time echoes of near explosions
reached the airship boys. Then there was a lapse
into silence. The contour of the country changed
and the hills lessened, and at length a level expanse
spread out before them.

They could make out lights scattered all over
the area. Here was a settlement, beyond it a
town. Then in the distance they noticed what
the young aviator decided to be a camp. Still
farther beyond, flashes and booms apprised him
that some kind of a combat was going on.
.bn 169.png
.pn +1

“We had better get out of this,” remarked
the young pilot.

“O-oh!” fairly shouted Hiram, in spellbound
wonder.

Of a sudden, from the direction of the camp,
there shot up a broad, dazzling beam of radiance.
It moved steadily, broadened and began to sweep
the western horizon. Slowly traversing the sky,
the sharp rays focused upon an object speeding
through the air. A further sweep, and a duplicate
for just an instant was framed by the piercing
glow.

“A searchlight!” cried the startled Elmer.

“And two airships,” added Hiram. “Dave,
what are we going to do?”

The young airman’s active brain was busy.
He fancied he took in the situation. They were
passing over a camp. Ahead of them was a
walled town, now being attacked. The two airships
to the west were probably bomb-carrying
machines, stealing over the enemy to drop death-dealing
projectiles into the midst of their camp.

“Dave,” whispered Elmer, almost too excited
to speak, “we have been seen!”

This was true. A lateral sweep of the searchlight
brought the <i>Comet</i> into clear view. The
operator of the great eye of radiance focused
.bn 170.png
.pn +1
the piercing rays directly upon the <i>Comet</i>.
Then, sweeping along, for an instant only they
showed an airship almost directly over the craft
of the young aviators.

“Another one,” cried Hiram sharply—“ugh!”

He shivered. All hands felt a jar, an impact.
They heard a distinct whiz.

“Something was dropped!” pronounced
Elmer, hoarsely. “There!”

Directly beneath them some descending object
reached the ground. There were a thousand
darting sparks of fire, then a tremendous boom.

“An airship from that camp,” said Dave,
rapidly. “They took us for one of the enemy!
We must get out of range! Hold steady, fellows!”

The pilot of the <i>Comet</i> knew that the moment
had arrived for prompt, expert tactics. There
might be as swift machines as his own among the
war craft in action, but he doubted if any of
them was constructed to take the higher level the
<i>Comet</i> could attain. The machine made a
superb shoot on a sharp tangent. Its progress
was so rapid that it almost took away the breath
of the excited crew. Again the groping searchlight
sought to reveal the situation aloft.

“Hurrah—safe! beat! They’re not even in
the race,” crowed the jubilant Elmer.
.bn 171.png
.pn +1

The sweeping glow showed the machine that
had dropped a bomb towards a supposed rival
fully a thousand feet below the <i>Comet</i>. Now its
pilot put on full speed. Out of range of camp,
town and the firing limit the splendid biplane
sailed.

Two days later, none the worse for their
unique experience, the airship boys arrived at
Cairo. The <i>Comet</i> seemed to be no particular
novelty to the crowd which greeted its arrival in
the center of a great public square. They
greeted the machine and its crew, however, with
cheers. Dave left the machine in charge of his
assistants, who were kept busy answering questions
from the curious bystanders.

It was nearly an hour before Dave returned.
He arrived seated on a wagon containing new
fuel and food supplies for the <i>Comet</i>.

“Going to make any kind of a stop here,
Dave?” inquired Hiram.

“Not a minute longer than it is necessary,”
was the speedy reply. “We are third in the race,
fellows, and that means no delay.”

“Yes,” nodded Elmer excitedly, “a man in
the crowd speaking English said he knew we
were one of the machines in the international
race, and that two others had reported here at
Cairo and had left again.”
.bn 172.png
.pn +1

“That is true,” answered the young airman.
“Number seven is three days ahead of us, number
eleven, six hours. Help get things in order,
fellows. We can’t afford to lose any time now.”

When the <i>Comet</i> started up again the cheers
and good wishes of the crowd were renewed.
Dave made a fifty-mile run, came down in a
lonely spot, and at once brought out the route
charts.

“Look here, fellows,” he said, his finger
tracing a course across the map; “there are
three routes to choose from. From Morocco,
the Azores, or Senegal; the Cape Verde Islands,
St. Paul Island, and Cayenne. Those are the
routes most talked about at the start. They are
favored because they are the farthest north and
the most direct. I have a better, a least safer,
idea.”

“I’ll warrant you have, Dave, if it’s to be
found,” declared Hiram.

“What is it?” inquired Elmer.

“The objection to those routes,” explained
the young airman, “is that the water stretches
are of wide extent. What I dread most is the
fear of being caught away from land.”

“Is there a shorter route than those you
speak of?” asked Hiram.

“Yes, there is,” asserted Dave.

“What is it?”
.bn 173.png
.pn +1

“Egypt, the Sahara Desert, the French
Congo, Ascension Island, St. Helena, Trinidad,
Rio Janeiro, and we are on American soil.”

“Capital!” cried Hiram.

“I wouldn’t lose an hour, Dave,” advised
Elmer, with real anxiety. “Ever since we found
out that there are two of the crowd ahead of us,
it seems as if I’d be willing to sleep in the seat
in the machine all the way to get ahead of
them.”

It was a warm, clear day when the <i>Comet</i>
came to a rest at the city of Mayamlia, in French
Congo. Looking back over the ten days consumed
in making the run across Egypt, through
Fezzan, the width of the great desert, over darkest
Africa, and into the Soudan, the airship boys
had viewed a country never before thus inspected
by an aerial explorer.

“Baked, boiled, and soaked,” was the way
Hiram put it, good-naturedly, but very grimly.

“And sandstorms and deluges,” added Elmer,
with a grimace.

The flight had certainly been a hardy but instructive
one. More than once the adventurous
young aviators had a thrilling experience amidst
unfamiliar air conditions. Twice they had been
discovered in temporary camps by natives. The
watchfulness and skill of their pilot had baffled
efforts at capture.
.bn 174.png
.pn +1

“Just to think,” said Hiram, gazing longingly
at the ocean—“just a bit of water to cover, and
we are on home territory.”

“Yes,” smiled our hero, “it looks nice and
easy on the map. Remember one thing, though,
fellows: here at Mayamlia we take in full supplies.
The food and fuel will be easy as far as
Helena or Trinidad. Between those points and
the final flight to Rio, though, the gasoline supply
is what we must look out for.”

“We’re going to make it—I feel it in my
bones!” crowed the optimistic Hiram Dobbs.
.bn 175.png
.pn +1
.pm chap XXII "LOST IN THE AIR"
“This is serious, fellows,” spoke Dave.
“Get ready for the worst.”

“What is the worst?” inquired Elmer
Brackett.

“A sudden drop. You had better have the
breeches buoys ready.”

“Oh, Dave!” cried Hiram Dobbs, in actual
distress. “You don’t mean to say that the brave
old <i>Comet</i> is going back on us just as it looks
as though the home stretch is right ahead of
us?”

“It’s the fog, fellows,” explained Dave.
“We have beaten around in it for twelve hours,
until I feel certain we are all out of our course.
In a word, we are lost.”

“Lost in the air!” exclaimed Hiram—“who’d
ever have thought of it!”

“Yes, just like a ship in strange waters,” said
Dave. “If we were not so far from the mainland
we left last week, there might be some hope.
According to my calculation, we have missed St.
Helena. If that is true, we can count on no
land this side of Trinidad.”
.bn 176.png
.pn +1

“That must be hundreds of miles away,” remarked
Hiram.

“Worse than that,” declared Elmer, who was
pretty well posted on chart and “log” details.
“If the fog would only lift!”

“That is our only hope,” declared Dave. “I
do not wish to alarm you, fellows; but we must
face the music like men. I don’t believe the
<i>Comet</i> will last out six hours.”

“As bad as that?” said Hiram, in a subdued
tone.

“Yes,” asserted the young airman. “If we
could sight some ship I would not hesitate to
descend upon its deck. This fog, of course, shuts
out any chance to depend on that. The trouble
is with our wires. That strain we had in last
night’s wind seems to have played havoc with
the entire steering gear.”

“Can’t it be fixed?” inquired Elmer, anxiously.

“Not while we’re flying,” replied Dave.
“You know, the post is really a lever and the
wheel a handle. The cloche, or bell-like attachment
that runs to the warping wires, has got out
of kilter. You know, the steering post is made
of one-inch, twenty-gauge steel tubing. At the
lower end of this is a fork made of pieces of
.bn 177.png
.pn +1
smaller tubing, bent and brazed into place. The
fork forms part of the universal joint on which
the post is mounted. From this run the warping
wires through pulleys to the elevators.”

Hiram nodded intelligently at this technical
explanation. Elmer, too, understood what their
pilot wished to convey to them.

“Some of the tubing is loose,” continued the
young airman. “I have felt it vibrate for the
past hour. If any part gives way, and a puff of
wind should come up, we will lose all control of
the steering gear.”

“The mischief!” ejaculated Hiram, who always
got excited readily. “We’re in a bad fix;
aren’t we?”

“Bad enough to keep on a low level, for fear
we may turn turtle at any moment,” declared
Dave.

The young aviator had not misstated conditions.
The situation was a critical one, and he
had known it for some time. Even now, as they
made a straight volplane, there was an ominous
creak in the tubing joints, and the machine wabbled.

“Fellows, she’s going!” declared our hero.
“We’ve got to drop or take a risk of a sudden
plunge that may end everything.”
.bn 178.png
.pn +1

The <i>Comet</i> had no float attachment. Hiram
got the breeches buoys and the life preservers
ready. The fog was so heavy they could not
see the sky above nor the sea beneath them.
Dave allowed the machine to drift on a long, inclined
dip. Something snapped. The <i>Comet</i>
wavered from side to side but did not upset.
There was a second sudden jar.

“Get ready. It’s a sure drop, any way we
manage it,” shouted Dave.

All hands were ready to leap from the machine
when it struck. Suddenly Dave shut off
the power at a contact. The machine grated,
ran on its wheels, and came to an astonishing but
substantial standstill.

“Dave, Dave,” cried the delighted Hiram,
springing out. “Land, solid land!”

“It can’t be! Must be a rock!” gasped
Elmer, unbelievingly.

“Whoop! hurrah!” yelled Hiram. “Oh,
glory!”

Dave’s young assistant acted mad as a March
hare. He could not help it. He sang and
danced. Then he reached down and grabbed up
handfuls of the light sand at his feet, and
flung it joyously up in the air as if it were grains
of precious gold.

“Sure as you live,” exclaimed the bewildered
Elmer. “It’s solid land—oh, what luck!”
.bn 179.png
.pn +1

The young aviator was filled with surprise and
satisfaction. Such rare good fortune seemed incredible.
He stood still, not caring if it was a
sand bank or a desert island. They had escaped
a fearful peril—and the <i>Comet</i> was
safe.

“Who cares for the fog. Why, if it’s only a
ten foot mud bank we’re so glad nothing else matters
much just now,” declared the overwrought
Hiram.

“It’s something better than that,” responded
our hero brightly, all buoyed up now after the
recent heavy strain on nerve and mind. “We
must have landed on some island not down on the
chart.”

“Let us explore,” suggested the impetuous
Hiram.

“Let us eat first,” added the hungry Elmer.
“It’s brought back my appetite, after that big
scare.”

Dave went all over the machine, more with
the sense of touch than actual eyesight inspection
in that enveloping fog. He came back to his
comrades not a whit discouraged.

“How is it, Dave?” asked Hiram.

“I can’t tell exactly,” was the reply. “Some
of the tubing is loose and the gear is out of
center. With what tools we have and duplicate
parts, we may be able to fix things up good enough
to carry on to the South American coast.”
.bn 180.png
.pn +1

“Let’s do it, then,” suggested the eager Elmer.
“Those other fellows may get the biggest kind
of a lead on us while we are delaying here.”

“They are probably having troubles of their
own,” remarked Dave. “It would be impossible
to do anything in this fog. Besides, it will take
us at least a day to repair the <i>Comet</i>. We
might just as well take a resting spell and a bite
to eat.”

The food supply aboard the biplane was
abundant, but no attempt was made to cook a
meal. The airship boys indulged in a lunch composed
of crackers, cheese and some lemonade, in
the manufacture of which beverage Hiram had
become something of an expert.

“I say,” he suddenly exclaimed, ten minutes
later, as he bolted a mouthful of cracker—“look
there!”

The speaker pointed, and all hands arose to
their feet. In the far distance a growing yellow
glow began to diffuse itself over the western sky.
As suddenly and completely as the dense fog had
come down upon them earlier in the day, a grand
clearing up transpired.

“Why, it’s just like the rolling up of a
curtain,” cried Elmer.

The airship boys stood viewing a swift panorama.
Vague shapes and outlines began to stand
out before their vision. The blue sky showed to
their left, the ocean at quite some distance. The
sinking sun sent up its radiant beams and they
made out that they were on an island.
.bn 181.png
.pn +1

Its rounding end was disclosed as they swept
the scene with interested glances. Little patches
of forest and grassy plain showed.

“Why, a famous camping spot,” spoke the
elated Hiram.

“How lucky we didn’t miss it,” added Elmer.

The young pilot could now inspect the <i>Comet</i>
more clearly. He reported his conclusions after
going over every part of the machine.

“I think time and patience will fix things up,”
he announced.

“How much time?” inquired Hiram.

“I hope not a great lot of patience,” said
Elmer, with a longing thought of the home mainland.

“There will be some brazing and hammering
to do,” explained Dave. “We will have to build
a fire. It will soon be dark and we must wait for
daylight. Now then, fellows, don’t waste any
nerve force worrying. What we lose to-day we’ll
try to make up for when we get started again.
We will find a good camping spot, have a pleasant
evening, and a full night’s sleep. That will put
us in fine trim for real business in the morning.”

“Begone dull care,” sang Hiram, in a jolly
tone. “We’ll forget that we’re circling the globe
for one ten hours, and be common, everyday boys
out on a picnic lark, and report for duty in the
morning.”
.bn 182.png
.pn +1

“There’s an inviting spot,” observed Dave,
pointing to a copse on a little rise in the near distance.

Before dusk the airship boys had gotten the
<i>Comet</i> safely placed, blankets out, a campfire
built, and were settled down comfortably for the
evening. There was nothing to indicate that the
island was inhabited with wild beasts. It seemed
to be a little emerald patch set down in the ocean,
a sort of lost Crusoe reef, too small to have a
name or a place on the marine charts.

One by one the boys drifted into slumberland.
It must have been nearly midnight when Hiram
and Elmer awakened to find Dave shaking them
vigorously.

“Get up, fellows,” directed the young airman.
“Something’s going on that we have got to investigate.”
.bn 183.png
.pn +1
.pm chap XXIII "THE BLAZING BEACON"
“What’s the trouble now, Dave?” speedily
inquired Hiram, getting to his feet and Elmer
after him.

“No trouble at all, I fancy,” was the reply;
“quite the contrary, in fact. Look there.”

The young pilot of the <i>Comet</i> pointed across
country towards the beach. Where a hill ran up
to a sharp promontory jutting out over the ocean,
a bright light showed.

“Why,” cried Hiram, “it’s a blazing heap of
some kind. Looks as if it was up off the
ground.”

“Yes, and it doesn’t burn like wood or oil.
Notice the smoke and the way the flames leap up
in the air? What do you suppose it is, Dave?”
inquired Elmer.

“I can’t imagine, unless it is some beacon,” replied
the young aviator.

“We can soon find out,” declared Elmer.
“Wait a minute.”
.bn 184.png
.pn +1

The speaker ran to the biplane. He soon returned,
his telescope in hand. This he leveled at
the distant glow.

“You’re right, Dave,” he announced excitedly.
“It’s a beacon, sure, and it’s pitch, sure. See for
yourself.”

“Yes,” assented the young aviator, levelling
the glass. “There is no doubt that it is a signal
of some kind. I can make out the skeleton legs
of some kind of a brazier.”

Hiram came in for a show at the spyglass.
His decision enforced that of his friends.

“What will we do—investigate?” he asked
of their leader.

“We must do that,” replied Dave. “It can’t
be very far away.”

“What will we do with the machine?” questioned
Hiram, who did not relish being left
behind.

“We can roll it to the beach and keep it with
us,” explained Dave. “Come on.”

“Maybe this is an inhabited island after all,”
suggested Elmer. “I’d like to know. We
don’t want to run into cannibals and have them
roast us.”

The airship boys got ready to leave their temporary
camp. They gained the beach, where progress
was level and clear for the <i>Comet</i>. The
blazing beacon was an excellent guide, and they
neared it rapidly. When they came to the foot
of the hill, they discovered a deep embrasure in
its surface.
.bn 185.png
.pn +1

“Run the machine in there,” directed our hero.
“Nobody is likely to disturb it before we return.”

It was with a good deal of curiosity and excitement
that the boys ascended the hill. That
gained, Dave took a broad survey of its top. No
habitation or person was in view. At the edge
of the highest point, commanding an open view
of the ocean, was a large brazier, such as is used
in light blacksmithing work. Its broad flanging
top held a barrel, evidently containing pitch or
some readily inflammable material. The fire sent
up dense clouds of thick, black smoke. At the
same time, however, the bright flames shone far
out over the waters with a brilliant glow.

“Queer,” observed Hiram, staring at the
brazier with no clue as to the hand that had
lighted it.

“Yes, some one started that fire, and quite
recently,” declared Dave.

“I wonder why? And who it could be?”
chimed in Elmer.

“We had better set about finding out,” suggested
Hiram.

The young airman took the lead in a search
for the mysterious owner of the brazier. Finally,
as they approached a slight dip in the surface of
the ground, he swung his arm back to command
a halt.
.bn 186.png
.pn +1

Where some trees showed, the reflection from
the fire outlined a ragged tent made out of a
sail. Near it were some boxes and barrels.
There was a small table and a stool, a little oil
stove, and some cooking utensils.

A hammock swung between two trees. Lying
in this, apparently asleep, the curious explorers
made out a human form. The young airman
waved his comrades back and cautiously approached
the unexpected layout before him.

A near glance showed our hero that the occupant
of the hammock was a white man garbed
in nautical costume. There seemed to be no
other person in the vicinity. Dave reached out
and gave the hammock a rough swing.

Its occupant must have been a light sleeper.
With wonderful suddenness and a sharp yell he
bounded from his bed. He was a thin, short
man, not weighing more than ninety pounds—so
undersized, in fact, as he stood gaping at Dave
in open-mouthed wonder, that the latter felt
inclined to laugh at the grotesque figure he
made.

“Why—where—when!” gasped out the man,
and, almost overcome, he could utter no further
coherent words.
.bn 187.png
.pn +1

“Do I happen to come here—and my friends?
That beacon directed us; who are you?” asked
our hero.

“Shipwrecked mariner,” was the reply, in a
mournful tone.

“You are a castaway, then?”

“That’s it—good ship <i>Flying Scud</i>, Nantucket.
Been here two months. What’s your craft?”

“The airship <i>Comet</i>,” replied our hero.

“W-what?” and the man looked astounded
and then grinned. He rubbed his eyes to convince
himself that he was not dreaming. Then he
gazed at Dave in a hurt way, as if he felt that
our hero was making fun of him.

“That’s true,” the young airman hastened to
say. “Myself and my friends arrived here by
accident only a few hours since. The power on
our machine gave out, and we landed in the fog,
not knowing where and we don’t know now.”

By this time Hiram and Elmer had advanced to
the spot. The man scanned them closely. He
rubbed his head in a worried, uncertain sort of a
way, as if figuring out something that puzzled
him. Then he said, after a long pause:

“I was in hopes my beacon had called a ship.
Seeing as it isn’t, I suppose there is no chance of
my getting away from here?”

“Why not?” challenged Dave, encouragingly.
“Did you ever ride in an airship, my friend?”
.bn 188.png
.pn +1

“No, never saw one. I’ve read about them
and have seen pictures of them. To a regular
tar, used to solid planks for nigh onto twenty
years, those flimsy things don’t appeal, somehow.”

“That’s because you don’t know what real
sailing is,” declared Hiram.

“Where is this new-fangled contrivance of
yours?” inquired the man, looking into the sky
and then all around the hill.

“Come with us and we’ll show it to you,”
promised Dave.

“All right. Then I’ll show you my ship.”

“Oh, you have one?” inquired Elmer in surprise.

“What is left of the good old <i>Flying Scud</i>,
yes,” answered the castaway, mournfully. “You
see, friends, she must have struck a reef and
sprung a leak. Anyhow, that dark, stormy night
when I found myself drifting on her alone, I had
to figure out that the captain had given her up
as doomed. They had abandoned her in the long
boat while I was asleep in the forecastle. Anyhow,
when I came on deck, I found the ship
deserted. Maybe the crew thought I had been
swept overboard. Perhaps they couldn’t find me—you
see, I’m so small,” concluded the speaker,
plaintively.

“Say, mister, how did you get out of it?”
asked the interested Hiram.
.bn 189.png
.pn +1

“The <i>Flying Scud</i> was rolling like a dancing
sailor. I thought it was the last of Jabez Hull,
yours truly. As she sided over, I strapped a life
belt on me and dropped into the sea. Well, to
make a long story short, I landed on this island.
The next morning I found the old ship a wreck
but her bow out of water, down on the beach
yonder. She’s been there since. Can’t be
budged, can’t be used, but I’ve been breaking her
up to build some kind of a craft to get away in.
Then, too, I’ve got food and furniture for my
camp here. I ain’t much of a ship carpenter and
got sort of discouraged, and for a week I’ve
got busy and burned up a barrel of tar as a
beacon.”

The boys pulled the <i>Comet</i> into view when
they reached the spot where they had stowed it.
The flare from the beacon enabled a full view
of the biplane. It seemed as though Jabez Hull
would never cease staring at it. He forgot all
about his own forlorn situation in asking half a
hundred wondering questions as to the machine
and what it could do.

When he led the airship boys down the beach
and showed them the wreck, it was their turn to
become interested. What pleased the young
aviators most of all was the discovery of a small
portable forge. This the castaway had removed
from the ship to assist in building his boat of
escape. This, scarcely begun, was lying on the
sand.
.bn 190.png
.pn +1

“Fellows,” said Dave, to his assistants, “this
is a great stroke of luck for us. We can repair
the machine in a good way, with a forge and
tools to help us.”

“Yes, and there’s a whole tank of gasoline
aboard the <i>Flying Scud</i>,” volunteered Hull.

The boys went back with the castaway to his
camp. No one thought of sleeping amid the excitement
of the occasion.

“We must get up early in the morning,” said
Dave. “We must lose no time in starting on
our way.”

“See here,” spoke up the castaway; “I suppose
there’s no chance of my thinking of having
a show to get away from here with you?”

“We shall certainly try to find a place for you,”
replied Dave, promptly.

“You will?” cried Hull, joyously. “Oh, but
that’s grand! See here, friend, you know what
I’ll do if you fellows get me safely to the American
coast?”

“What, now?” questioned Hiram, who liked
to hear the odd old mariner talk.

“I’ll give you twenty thousand dollars.”

Our hero said nothing, but Elmer stared hard
at the speaker and Hiram nudged him and
winked.
.bn 191.png
.pn +1

“Provided,” continued Jabez Hull—“provided
you take my treasure also along in your airship.”

“Your treasure, Mr. Hull?” repeated Dave.
“What does it consist of?”

“A keg—yes, friend, probably the most
valuable keg in the world. It weighs over fifty
pounds, and it’s precious as diamonds. Land me
anywhere near to a big city till I realize, and I’ll
hand you over twenty thousand dollars in good,
solid, hard cash.”
.bn 192.png
.pn +1
.pm chap XXIV "THE HOME STRETCH"
“Ready for a start,” ordered Dave.

It was under new and favorable circumstances
that the young pilot of the <i>Comet</i> spoke the
words. The lonely island in the South Atlantic
was now a mere fading memory, the many
leagues traversed by land and sea lost in the past.
The <i>Comet</i> and the airship boys were stationed
in a field near to a little hostelry on the outskirts
of Rio Janeiro.

It was rare good fortune, indeed, that the
young adventurers had happened across Jabez
Hull. Within twenty-four hours after discovering
the shipwrecked mariner the <i>Comet</i> was on
her way due west, with a new passenger.

The forge, tools and metal material once belonging
to the wrecked <i>Flying Scud</i> had come in
most usefully. Dave knew enough of popular
mechanics to utilize them practically. He declared
the biplane as solid and perfect, after a
careful overhauling and repairing, as when the
machine had left the original starting place of
the great international race around the world.
.bn 193.png
.pn +1

The “treasure” of the eccentric Jabez Hull
had been taken aboard. It represented a keg
sewn up in a coarse canvas jacket. Hiram was
alive with curiosity to know what possible
material the package could contain to equal in
value the vaunted twenty thousand dollars. On
that point, however, the castaway had insisted on
preserving utter silence.

“I’m a man of my word,” he said, “and that
is all there is about it. Land me anywhere
on American territory and I will divide my
riches.”

With this the airship boys were forced to be
content. Room was made for the precious keg
by leaving behind on the island the greater part
of the exigency equipment of the <i>Comet</i>. The
young pilot felt that now all they need fear was
the giving out of the gasoline supply. There
was plenty of this aboard the wrecked ship, and
they managed to find storage for quite an extra
supply of it.

It was a daring dash, this final one over leagues
of open sea in their frail aircraft. Once begun,
however, the airship boys were dauntless and tireless.
Fine weather and favorable winds assisted
them, and without a single notable mishap they
had reached the great Brazilian metropolis.

The young aviator was anxious to get to a telegraph
office at once. He left Hiram and Elmer
in charge of the <i>Comet</i>. Jabez Hull insisted on
accompanying him to the city.
.bn 194.png
.pn +1

“I want to get action on that keg of treasure,”
he said. “I know several shipping houses in Rio.
I’ll be back here to the airship by noon.”

“Make it noon, sharp,” advised Dave, “for
we cannot afford to lose a single second in the race
now.”

“I’ll be here on time, don’t you fret,” declared
the castaway.

He and Dave parted when they reached the
heart of the city. The young airman was back
with his friends before noon. He had gotten in
touch with Washington. What he learned made
him more than anxious to resume the flight.

“We are third, fellows, so far as heard from,
I am sorry to say,” he announced to his anxious
comrades, and this put them in a great flutter.

“You don’t mean to say that any of the machines
has reached goal?” cried Hiram, his heart
sinking to his boots.

“No,” replied our hero; “but number seven
was reported at Para yesterday. This morning
number two was at Cayenne. They are hundreds
of miles nearer home than we are.”

“Then it’s a run day and night from this on,”
insisted Hiram, bustling about excitedly.

“It will have to be, if we expect to make good,”
said Dave. “Mr. Hull has not returned yet?”
.bn 195.png
.pn +1

“Not a sign of him,” reported Elmer.

They were all busy for the next hour, getting
things in shape for a speedy and sustained flight
on the home stretch. Dave glanced at his watch.

“It is after noon,” he observed. “I don’t see
how we can afford to wait any longer for Mr.
Hull.”

“Why, we simply mustn’t,” declared the impatient
Hiram.

“Get ready for a start, then. Here, Elmer,”
and Dave wrote a few lines on a card. “Take
that to the hotel keeper and tell him to give it
to Mr. Hull when he shows up.”

“What were you writing?” inquired Hiram,
as Elmer darted away on his mission.

“Directions as to how he can wire us and
where he can find us later,” replied our hero.

They waited ten minutes after the return of
Elmer, but there were no signs of the missing
passenger of the <i>Comet</i>. The machine went aloft
as if filled with the spirit that infused its crew.
They were soon whizzing on their way north.

“Wonder what our queer shipwreck friend will
say when he finds us gone?” inquired Hiram.

“He will understand the urgency of the situation,
for I explained it in my note,” said Dave.
“He has some money with him, I know, and will
doubtless make for Washington at once.”
.bn 196.png
.pn +1

“I say,” broke in Elmer; “what do you fellows
think about this boasted treasure of his?”

“I, for one, don’t think anything about it at
all,” responded Hiram, bluntly. “He’s either a
dreamer or a skeesicks. His not coming back to
us looks as if he had served his purpose in getting
to safe territory and has abandoned his old keg.”

“I’d like to know what it holds,” said Elmer.

“Well, it isn’t gold and it isn’t diamonds,” replied
Hiram, rather contemptuously. “I noticed
in shifting it this morning that its canvas jacket
was greasy at one place, just as if the keg was
full of oil.”

“Never mind,” spoke Dave. “It will do for
ballast till we reach home. Then, if Mr. Hull
does not appear, we will have to open the keg
and see what is in it.”

The <i>Comet</i> made five hundred miles in three
laps. Once only, at Caracas, did they have to
stop for gasoline. It was early one morning when
the <i>Comet</i> came to a stop near Belize.

Dave as usual hurried to the nearest telegraph
office, and soon had the wires busy. His anxious
assistants greeted his return all in a quiver over
expected news.

“What have you found out, Dave?” projected
Hiram.

“Yes, we’re all on edge to know if there is a
chance to get in first,” added Elmer.
.bn 197.png
.pn +1

“Number seven is two hundred miles ahead of
us—just sighted at Vera Cruz,” said the young
airman. “No word has been received about number
two since our last report.”

“Oh, Dave,” cried Hiram, in a wild fever of
longing and suspense, “we’ve just got to reach
goal first!”

“We shall make a very hard try, at all events,”
replied our hero, doughtily. “Get out the chart,
Elmer. We must save every needless crook and
turn from this on.”

The eager boys were soon inspecting the chart.
Vera Cruz was two hundred miles away. Number
seven had over six hours’ lead, estimating the
situation on a full speed basis. The young air
pilot did some intense calculating. Then he drew
his finger across the chart past New Orleans,
across Louisiana, and on a line as the crow flies
for Washington.

That day was one of the greatest stress for the
airship boys. There was no thought of sleep,
and they cared little for food. Hiram chattered
the greater part of the time. Elmer was so anxious
that he was restless and worried. Dave kept
at the wheel, grim, determined and persevering.

They ran steadily all the next night. At a little
town over the border of Georgia they had to stop
for gasoline. The storekeeper from whom they
obtained it gave them some information that
spurred them up afresh.
.bn 198.png
.pn +1

“You’re the second in the last three hours,”
he informed them.

“You mean the second airship?” inquired
Hiram, eagerly.

“Just that. One flew over about daylight.”

“How headed? What did it look like? Where
did it go?” In his hurry and eagerness Elmer
stumbled over his words recklessly.

The man could not describe the airship, but
enough was gathered from him in a general way
to give the boys some idea of the course taken
by their predecessor.

“It’s number seven, I have every reason to
believe,” said Dave, when they started up again.

“Then it will be a close finish,” declared
Hiram. “We’ve gained on her a good deal, you
see.”

It was superb running for several hours after
that. The landscape beneath them, now wild and
desolate, seemed to spin along like a rapid
panorama. They were traversing an uphill and
down dale course, when Hiram suddenly uttered
a positive yell.

“Dave, Elmer,” he shouted—“look there!”

“It’s number seven, sure as you live!” echoed
Elmer, excitedly.

“I think so, too,” agreed their pilot more
quietly, but all his senses were on the keenest
alert.
.bn 199.png
.pn +1

Over beyond a high ridge all hands saw distinctly
an airship. Its outline answered to the
description of number seven. The way it sailed
told that it was an expert racer and under the
control of a true professional.

It was lost to view behind a tree-capped ridge.
When the <i>Comet</i> in its course has got past this
obstruction, the airship had disappeared.

“It’s gone, but where?” called out Hiram.

“There it is,” suddenly cried Elmer.

About three miles ahead of them was a little
settlement. This side of it a fenced-in farm
showed. In the center of its barnyard the airship
boys saw the machine that had been sailing aloft
a short time previous.

Apparently it had descended on account of
some break or accident. There seemed to be no
valid reason why it should land at a remote farmhouse.

“Why, there’s trouble,” exclaimed Hiram.

.tb

“There surely is,” said the young pilot of the
<i>Comet</i>, and the trio viewed a somewhat startling
spectacle.

The owner of the other airship stood near his
biplane. Four men surrounded him. Three of
them were armed with guns, and they confronted
the airman in a menacing way.
.bn 200.png
.pn +1
.pm chap XXV "CONCLUSION"
The airship boys at once saw that their fellow
aviator was in trouble. Our hero made a direct
descent. The <i>Comet</i> came to a standstill beside
the other machine. Its pilot leaped out and approached
the group.

Dave at once recognized number seven, and
the young man, Pierce, who ran it. He hailed
him in a friendly fashion. Then he turned to
the four farmers. A frowsy, obstinate-looking
old fellow with a pitchfork was evidently the
father of the three stalwart youths armed with
shotguns. First he regarded the newcomers with
surprise, and then suspiciously and with dislike.

“Why, what is the trouble here?” inquired
the young airman.

“That’s the trouble,” growled the old man,
pointing to a row of upset bee hives and a break
in the field fence beyond. “Do you see that
horse over there making for the woods? Well,
that’s old Snorter, my primest animal. This
here young fellow comes down in his b’loon and
scares the hoss nigh into fits.”
.bn 201.png
.pn +1

“Ran out of gasoline and a bolt out of gear,”
explained the pilot of number seven.

“You have no right dropping into my yard!”
shouted the farmer, wrathfully. “It’s trespassing.”

“That’s right,” drawled the biggest of his
sons. “I’m a deputy of the sheriff in this county.
You have violated the law. I shall have to take
you to Millville to court to answer in an action of
wilful trespass.”

“Yes, and I shall insist that you be held in a
civil suit for damages,” declared another of the
sons.

Young Pierce cast a hopeless look at his machine
and anxiously at Dave. The latter took in
the situation at a glance.

“See here, mister,” he said to the old farmer;
“we are desperately sorry that this has happened.”

“Yah!” sneered the shrewd old schemer—“money
talks.”

“How much?” demanded our hero, without
hesitation.

“Well, them bees is a special brood. The
hives and the fence ain’t much, but there’s old
Snorter. He may wander away and get lost; he
may fall into some of those lime pits beyond the
timber and get hurt. Then again, he’s so frightened
he’ll probably run away at the least scare
after this. One hundred dollars, I told this young
man here.”
.bn 202.png
.pn +1

“But I haven’t got it,” cried Pierce. “I offered
to give you an order on Washington, and
you won’t take it.”

“Not I,” retorted the hard-fisted old fellow.
“Cash down on the nail head.”

“I ran short at Savannah,” explained Pierce
to Dave. “I fancied I could get through with
the twenty dollars I had left, being so near
home.”

Dave took out his pocket book. The old
farmer’s eyes glistened as our hero handed him
five crisp twenty-dollar banknotes.

“Now then, Pierce,” spoke the young airman,
“that’s settled. What’s the trouble with your
machine?”

It did not take the expert Dave long to find
out. Within half an hour he had the faulty gear
sound as ever. The <i>Comet</i> had a full supply of
gasoline. A transfer of some of it was made to
the tanks aboard number seven.

The farmer and his sons, fully satisfied now,
stood watching operations. Hiram and Elmer
hustled about, giving their leader and his fellow
aviator all the help they could.

“Everything is in trim,” announced our hero,
finally. “Good-bye and good luck.”
.bn 203.png
.pn +1

Pierce held the hand so generously extended
by Dave in a tremulous grasp. Tears of gratitude
and esteem had rushed to his eyes.

“Dashaway,” he said, in a choked, broken
voice; “you’re a man, every inch of you!”

Number seven went aloft. Dave called “all
aboard!” Hiram pulled his face at the mean-spirited
old trickster who had bled them. Elmer
shook his fist at the farmer crowd.

“That’s you!” exclaimed Hiram. “Just
fitted Pierce out to beat us, and delayed us, besides.”

“Wasn’t it the best kind of fair play?” challenged
Dave.

“So good,” declared Elmer; “that I’d almost
rather come in second with the big heart you’ve
got, than think I’d left a fellow airman in the
lurch.”

“Well, it’s a free for all now, I hope,” spoke
the anxious Hiram. “When a fellow is so near
the winning post as we are, it makes him selfish,
I guess. Yes, you did just right, Dave Dashaway;
only, if you see some stray tramp limping
along, don’t stop to give him a lift.”

Within an hour the advance pilot of the race,
number seven, was nowhere in view. Our hero
had made a study of this one close rival in the
field as well as repair the machine. He had found
out where it was weak and the <i>Comet</i> strong.
Barring accident, the young pilot of the <i>Comet</i>
felt sanguine that his machine would reach the
winning post first.
.bn 204.png
.pn +1

The airship boys did some splendid running.
They made no stops except for fuel and water.
They ate and slept on the wing. Hiram counted
the moments and Elmer the miles. At midnight,
thirty hours later, they were within two hundred
miles of Washington.

It was a momentous climax in their earnest
young lives. They had circled the globe. They
had overcome every obstacle in their path. They
had won, the proud pilot of the <i>Comet</i> and his
eager assistants hoped and believed.

With a cheer, husky with emotions, seeming to
swell up in his heart like a fountain of joy, Hiram
Dobbs arose in the machine as it settled down
almost at the very spot whence it had started—“oh,
almost years before!” Elmer declared.

Dave Dashaway stepped from the machine.
The cares, the hardship, the worry, the doubt of
long arduous weeks seemed to fall from him like
a garment. He gave one vast sigh of relief and
satisfaction. Every eye was at once directed towards
the club house. Some field men came running
from the distant hangars.

“Say,” spoke Hiram, with a queer anxious jerk
in his voice—“the bulletin board!”
.bn 205.png
.pn +1

His heart sank as he ran towards it. Elmer
followed close on his trail. There were notations
opposite the various numbers. Had someone
preceded them—had someone won the race?

And then, after a single glance, Hiram threw
his cap up in the air, his face beaming, and
Elmer grasped his hand, delirious with excitement.
Dave, coming up, found them dancing
about as if half mad with joy.

For the lines on the bulletin board bore only
such notations as these: “Number ten—abandoned
at Winnipeg.” “Number six—wrecked
at Cape Nome.” “Number five—abandoned,”
and others “out of commission.”

There were blanks after number seven and
number two. As the airship boys stood there, a
man came quickly out upon the veranda which
held the bulletin board. He cast an excited glance
at the travel-worn <i>Comet</i>. He waved his hand
gaily at the three young champions. Then with
a piece of chalk he wrote on the third blank line:

“<i>Number three, Comet; pilot, Dashaway—first.</i>”

A date, an hour, a minute, even down to odd
seconds followed. The world knew that the airship
boys had won the great international prize!

There were so many pleasant and rapidly occurring
events transpiring close on the heels of
the great race around the world, that for over
two weeks our hero and his loyal comrades had
a busy, interesting time of it.
.bn 206.png
.pn +1

Twelve hours after the arrival of the <i>Comet</i>,
number seven came into the goal. She was a bird
with a broken wing. A patched-up plane told of
a last dash under decided disadvantages.

“Don’t you crow over me, Mr. Dave Dashaway,”
said the energetic young Pierce, playfully.
“I win second prize, all alone by myself. You
three have to divide yours. But, better than the
international trophy, is the big thing you did for
me, and people are going to know about it, too,”
declared Pierce, and he kept his word.

Mr. Brackett was very proud of the son who
had “made good” in an exploit calling for more
than ordinary ability and grit. To our hero he
insisted all the credit was due, and the young airman
realized that he had made strong, lifetime
friends.

It seemed to the airship boys the very happiest
moment of their lives, the day a dainty little miss
drove up to the <i>Comet</i> hangar, and Miss Edna
Deane, with tears of joy and gratitude, and her
lovely face fairly glowing, told them what heroes
they were.

“My brother is resting with a relative in England,”
she narrated. “Father has gone to bring
him home. If you are a thousand miles away
from Washington when they return, you must
promise, all three of you, to come to the family
reunion, of which you are surely members, as
.bn 207.png
.pn +1
friends and brothers. Father and brother will
have something interesting to say to you. We
are very, very grateful—and, oh, so proud of
you!”

“It’s worth something to find a little sister like
that,” cried Hiram, as their visitor left them, all
sunny smiles and happiness.

“‘Something interesting’ means a right royal
reward, of course,” spoke Elmer. “Why, fellows,
if we keep on, we’ll soon have the capital to
start an aero meet all our own!”

It was just a week after that, early one morning,
that the airship boys, seated in the aero association
club room, were hailed joyously by an
unexpected visitor.

“Why, Mr. Hull!” exclaimed Dave, greeting
the newcomer warmly.

The shipwrecked mariner looked like a new
man. He wore a spick and span suit, and was
cleanly shaven. He seemed well fed and happy.

“Missed you at Rio,” he announced; “but
knew you’d do the square thing. Met a chum
who financed me, and came on to get my keg.”

“Which is safe and sound in the storage room
here,” announced our hero.

“Well, all we’ve got to do is to get it hauled
down to a chemical works in Washington to get
our money—half of it is yours,” observed the old
salt.
.bn 208.png
.pn +1

“Say, Mr. Hull,” broke in the irrepressible
Hiram; “what in the world is in that keg, anyway?”

“Can’t you guess?” asked the old salt.

“We haven’t the least idea, unless it’s grease.”

“Grease! Ha! ha!” laughed the sailor.
“Not much, my lad. Give another guess.”

“I don’t see what could be worth such a sum
of money as you claim,” returned Hiram, his
face showing how puzzled he was.

“You haven’t opened the keg?”

“No,” answered Dave, promptly.

“It ain’t leaked none either?”

“Not enough to count.”

“I am glad o’ that, lads. I wouldn’t want
that stuff to git away from me, after all the
trouble I had gittin’ it, an’ all the trouble you had
carryin’ it so far.”

“But we are wildly excited to know what it
is!” cried Hiram. “Please don’t keep us waiting
any longer.”

“Hiram has made all sorts of wild guesses,”
laughed Dave. “First he thought you had gold
dust—but gold dust isn’t greasy.”

“No, it ain’t gold dust.”

“Then what?” pleaded Hiram. “Come, out
with it, Mr. Hull.”
.bn 209.png
.pn +1

“Ambergris,” promptly replied Jabez Hull.
“Found it floating on the water off that island
where you met me. I suppose you know it’s
worth just double pure gold an ounce, and so
rare that the price never goes down.”

“Well, what next?” asked Hiram, some time
later.

“I don’t know,” answered Dave. But many
more adventures were in store for our hero, and
what some of them were will be related in the
next volume of this series, to be entitled: “Dave
Dashaway, Air Champion; Or, Wizard Work in
the Clouds.”

So we leave our young friends for the present,
happy, honored and still ambitious. They had
been leaders and heroes in the aviation field.
Their efforts had been practical and not reckless.
They had shown a new course around the world.
They had proven a new possibility in aerial science,
and fame and fortune had been the reward
of Dave Dashaway and his intrepid airship boys.
.sp 2
.ce
THE END
.pb
.bn 210.png
.pn +1
.sp 4
.nf c
<xl>THE DAVE DASHAWAY</xl>
<xl>SERIES</xl>
<l>By ROY ROCKWOOD</l>
.sp
<s>Author of the “Speedwell Boys Series” and the “Great Marvel Series.”</s>
12mo. Illustrated. Price per volume, 40 cents, postpaid.
.sp
Never was there a more clever young aviator than Dave
Dashaway. All up-to-date lads will surely wish to read
about him.
.nf-
.hr 80%
.sp
.pm illustnocap ad01 ad001.jpg 300
.sp
.ce 2
<l>DAVE DASHAWAY THE YOUNG AVIATOR</l>
<i><s>or In the Clouds for Fame and Fortune</s></i>
.sp
  This initial volume tells how the hero ran
away from his miserly guardian, fell in with
a successful airman, and became a young
aviator of note.
.sp
.ce 2
<l>DAVE DASHAWAY AND HIS HYDROPLANE</l>
<i><s>or Daring Adventures Over the Great Lakes</s></i>
.sp
Showing how Dave continued his career as a birdman and
had many adventures over the Great Lakes, and how he
foiled the plans of some Canadian smugglers.
.sp
.ce 2
<l>DAVE DASHAWAY AND HIS GIANT AIRSHIP</l>
<i><s>or A Marvellous Trip Across the Atlantic</s></i>
.sp
How the giant airship was constructed and how the daring
young aviator and his friends made the hazardous journey
through the clouds from the new world to the old, is told in a
way to hold the reader spellbound.
.sp
.ce 2
<l>DAVE DASHAWAY AROUND THE WORLD</l>
<i><s>or A Young Yankee Aviator Among Many Nations</s></i>
.sp
An absorbing tale of a great air flight around the world,
of adventures in Alaska, Siberia and elsewhere. A true to
life picture of what may be accomplished in the near future.
.sp
.ce 2
<l>DAVE DASHAWAY: AIR CHAMPION</l>
<i><s>or Wizard Work in the Clouds</s></i>
.sp
Dave makes several daring trips, and then enters a contest
for a big prize. An aviation tale thrilling in the extreme.
.hr 80%
.ce
CUPPLES & LEON CO., Publishers, NEW YORK
.pb
.bn 211.png
.pn +1
.sp 4
.nf c
<xl>THE WEBSTER SERIES</xl>
By FRANK V. WEBSTER
.nf-
.hr 80%
.pm illustnocap ad02 ad002.jpg 300
.sp
.nf c
Mr. WEBSTER’S style is very much like
that of the boys’ favorite author, the late
lamented Horatio Alger, Jr., but his tales
are thoroughly up-to-date.
.sp
Cloth. 12mo. Over 200 pages each. Illustrated.
Stamped in various colors.
.sp
Price per volume, 40 cents, postpaid.
.nf-
.sp
.nf b
Only A Farm Boy
  <i>or Dan Hardy’s Rise in Life</i>
.sp
The Boy From The Ranch
  <i>or Roy Bradner’s City Experiences</i>
.sp
The Young Treasure Hunter
  <i>or Fred Stanley’s Trip to Alaska</i>
.sp
The Boy Pilot of the Lakes
  <i>Nat Morton’s Perils</i>
.sp
Tom The Telephone Boy
  <i>or The Mystery of a Message</i>
.sp
Bob The Castaway
  <i>or The Wreck of the Eagle</i>
.sp
The Newsboy Partners
  <i>or Who Was Dick Box?</i>
.sp
Two Boy Gold Miners
  <i>or Lost in the Mountains</i>
.sp
The Young Firemen of Lakeville
  <i>or Herbert Dare’s Pluck</i>
.sp
The Boys of Bellwood School
  <i>or Frank Jordan’s Triumph</i>
.sp
Jack the Runaway
  <i>or On the Road with a Circus</i>
.sp
Bob Chester’s Grit
  <i>or From Ranch to Riches</i>
.sp
Airship Andy
  <i>or The Luck of a Brave Boy</i>
.sp
High School Rivals
  <i>or Fred Markham’s Struggles</i>
.sp
Darry The Life Saver
  <i>or The Heroes of the Coast</i>
.sp
Dick The Bank Boy
  <i>or A Missing Fortune</i>
.sp
Ben Hardy’s Flying Machine
  <i>or Making a Record for Himself</i>
.sp
Harry Watson’s High School Days
  <i>or The Rivals of Rivertown</i>
.sp
Comrades of the Saddle
  <i>or The Young Rough Riders of the Plains</i>
.sp
Tom Taylor at West Point
  <i>or The Old Army Officer’s Secret</i>
.sp
The Boy Scouts of Lennox
  <i>or Hiking Over Big Bear Mountain</i>
.sp
The Boys of the Wireless
  <i>or a Stirring Rescue from the Deep</i>
.sp
Cowboy Dave
  <i>or The Round-up at Rolling River</i>
.sp
Jack of the Pony Express
  <i>or The Young Rider of the Mountain Trail</i>
.sp
The Boys of the Battleship
  <i>or For the Honor of Uncle Sam</i>
.nf-
.sp
.hr 80%
.ce
CUPPLES & LEON CO., Publishers, NEW YORK
.pb
.bn 212.png
.pn +1
.sp 4
.nf c
<xl>THE SADDLE BOYS SERIES</xl>
<l>By CAPTAIN JAMES CARSON</l>
12mo. Illustrated. Price per volume, 40 cents, postpaid.
.sp
.nf-
All lads who love life in the open air and a good steed,
will want to peruse these books. Captain Carson knows his
subject thoroughly, and his stories are as pleasing as they are
healthful and instructive.
.hr 80%
.pm illustnocap ad03 ad003.jpg 300
.in +4
.ce 2
<l>THE SADDLE BOYS OF THE ROCKIES</l>
<i><s>or Lost on Thunder Mountain</s></i>
.sp
Telling how the lads started out to solve
the mystery of a great noise in the mountains—how
they got lost—and of the things
they discovered.
.sp
.ce 2
<l>THE SADDLE BOYS IN THE GRAND CANYON</l>
<i><s>or The Hermit of the Cave</s></i>
.sp
A weird and wonderful story of the Grand
Canyon of the Colorado, told in a most absorbing
manner The Saddle Boys are to the front in a
manner to please all young readers.
.sp
.ce 2
<l>THE SADDLE BOYS ON THE PLAINS</l>
<i><s>or After a Treasure of Gold</s></i>
.sp
In this story the scene is shifted to the great plains of the
southwest and then to the Mexican border. There is a stirring
struggle for gold, told as only Captain Carson can tell it.
.sp
.ce 2
<l>THE SADDLE BOYS AT CIRCLE RANCH</l>
<i><s>or In at the Grand Round-up</s></i>
.sp
Here we have lively times at the ranch, and likewise the
particulars of a grand round-up of cattle and encounters with
wild animals and also cattle thieves. A story that breathes
the very air of the plains.
.sp
.ce 2
<l>THE SADDLE BOYS ON MEXICAN TRAILS</l>
<i><s>or In the Hands of the Enemy</s></i>
.sp
The scene is shifted in this volume to Mexico. The boys
go on an important errand, and are caught between the lines
of the Mexican soldiers. They are captured and for a while
things look black for them; but all ends happily.
.in
.sp
.hr 80%
.ce
CUPPLES & LEON CO., Publishers, NEW YORK
.pb
.bn 213.png
.pn +1
.sp 4
.nf c
<xl>THE SPEEDWELL BOYS</xl>
<xl>SERIES</xl>
By ROY ROCKWOOD
Author of “The Dave Dashaway Series,” “Great Marvel Series,” etc.
12mo. Illustrated. Price per volume, 40 cents, postpaid.
.nf-
.hr 10%
All boys who love to be on the go will welcome the Speedwell
boys. They are clean cut and loyal lads.
.hr 80%
.pm illustnocap ad04 ad004.jpg 300
.sp
.ce 2
<l>THE SPEEDWELL BOYS ON MOTOR CYCLES</l>
<i><s>or The Mystery of a Great Conflagration</s></i>
.sp
The lads were poor, but they did a rich
man a great service and he presented them
with their motor cycles. What a great fire
led to is exceedingly well told.
.sp
.ce 2
<l>THE SPEEDWELL BOYS AND THEIR RACING AUTO</l>
<i><s>or A Run for the Golden Cup</s></i>
.sp
A tale of automobiling and of intense rivalry on the road.
There was an endurance run and the boys entered the contest.
On the run they rounded up some men who were wanted by
the law.
.sp
.ce 2
<l>THE SPEEDWELL BOYS AND THEIR POWER LAUNCH</l>
<i><s>or To the Rescue of the Castaways</s></i>
.sp
Here is an unusual story. There was a wreck, and the lads,
in their power launch, set out to the rescue. A vivid picture
of a great storm adds to the interest of the tale.
.sp
.ce 2
<l>THE SPEEDWELL BOYS IN A SUBMARINE</l>
<i><s>or The Lost Treasure of Rocky Cove</s></i>
.sp
An old sailor knows of a treasure lost under water because
of a cliff falling into the sea. The boys get a chance to go
out in a submarine and they make a hunt for the treasure.
.sp
.ce 2
<l>THE SPEEDWELL BOYS AND THEIR ICE RACER</l>
<i><s>or The Perils of a Great Blizzard</s></i>
.sp
The boys had an idea for a new sort of iceboat, to be run
by combined wind and motor power. How they built the craft,
and what fine times they had on board of it, is well related.
.sp
.hr 80%
.ce
CUPPLES & LEON CO., Publishers, NEW YORK
.pb
.bn 214.png
.pn +1
.sp 4
.nf c
<xl>THE FRED FENTON</xl>
<xl>ATHLETIC SERIES</xl>
By ALLEN CHAPMAN
<s>Author of “The Tom Fairfield Series,” “The Boys of Pluck Series” and</s>
<s>“The Darewell Chums Series.”</s>
.nf-
.sp
12mo. Illustrated. Price per volume, 40 cents, postpaid.
.sp
A line of tales embracing school athletics. Fred is a true
type of the American schoolboy of to-day.
.hr 80%
.pm illustnocap ad05 ad005.jpg 300
.ce 2
<l>FRED FENTON THE PITCHER</l>
<i><s>or The Rivals of Riverport School</s></i>
.sp
When Fred came to Riverport none of
the school lads knew him, but he speedily
proved his worth in the baseball box. A
true picture of school baseball.
.sp
.ce 2
<l>FRED FENTON IN THE LINE</l>
<i><s>or The Football Boys of Riverport School</s></i>
.sp
When Fall came in the thoughts of the
boys turned to football. Fred went in the line, and again
proved his worth, making a run that helped to win a great
game.
.sp
.ce 2
<l>FRED FENTON ON THE CREW</l>
<i><s>or The Young Oarsmen of Riverport School</s></i>
.sp
In this volume the scene is shifted to the river, and Fred
and his chums show how they can handle the oars. There are
many other adventures, all dear to the hearts of boys.
.sp
.ce 2
<l>FRED FENTON ON THE TRACK</l>
<i><s>or The Athletes of Riverport School</s></i>
.sp
Track athletics form a subject of vast interest to many
boys, and here is a tale telling of great running races, high
jumping, and the like. Fred again proves himself a hero in
the best sense of that term.
.sp
.ce 2
<l>FRED FENTON: MARATHON RUNNER</l>
<i><s>or The Great Race at Riverport School</s></i>
.sp
Fred is taking a post-graduate course at the school when
the subject of Marathon running came up. A race is arranged,
and Fred shows both his friends and his enemies what he can
do. An athletic story of special merit.
.sp
.hr 80%
.ce
CUPPLES & LEON CO., Publishers, NEW YORK
.pb
.bn 215.png
.pn +1
.sp 4
.nf c
<xl>The Tom Fairfield Series</xl>
By ALLEN CHAPMAN
Author of the “Fred Fenton Athletic Series,” “The Boys of Pluck
Series,” and “The Darewell Chums Series.”
12mo. Illustrated. Price per volume, 40 cents, postpaid.
.nf-
.hr 10%
Tom Fairfield is a typical American lad, full of life and
energy, a boy who believes in doing things. To know Tom is
to love him.
.pm illustnocap ad06  ad006.jpg 300
.hr 80%
.ce 2
<l>TOM FAIRFIELD’S SCHOOLDAYS</l>
<i><s>or The Chums of Elmwood Hall</s></i>
.sp
Tells of how Tom started for school,
of the mystery surrounding one of the
Hail seniors, and of how the hero went
to the rescue. The first book in a line
that is bound to become decidedly popular.
.sp
.ce 2
<l>TOM FAIRFIELD AT SEA</l>
<i><s>or The Wreck of the Silver Star</s></i>
.sp
Tom’s parents had gone to Australia and then been cast
away somewhere in the Pacific. Tom set out to find them and
was himself cast away. A thrilling picture of the perils of
the deep.
.sp
.ce 2
<l>TOM FAIRFIELD IN CAMP</l>
<i><s>or The Secret of the Old Mill</s></i>
.sp
The boys decided to go camping, and located near an old
mill. A wild man resided there and he made it decidedly lively
for Tom and his chums. The secret of the old mill adds to the
interest of the volume.
.sp
.ce 2
<l>TOM FAIRFIELD’S PLUCK AND LUCK</l>
<i><s>or Working to Clear His Name</s></i>
.sp
While Tom was back at school some of his enemies tried
to get him into trouble. Something unusual occurred and Tom
was suspected of a crime. How he set to work to clear his
name is told in a manner to interest all young readers.
.sp
.ce 2
<l>TOM FAIRFIELD’S HUNTING TRIP</l>
<i><s>or Lost in the Wilderness</s></i>
.sp
Tom was only a schoolboy, but he loved to use a shotgun
or a rifle. In this volume we meet him on a hunting trip full
of outdoor life and good times around the campfire.
.sp
.hr 80%
.ce
CUPPLES & LEON CO., Publishers, NEW YORK
.pb
.bn 216.png
.pn +1
.sp 4
.nf c
<xl>THE MOTOR BOYS</xl> Second Series
<i>(Trade Mark, Reg. U. S. Pat. Of.)</i>
By CLARENCE YOUNG
<s>12mo. Illustrated. Price per volume, 60 cents, postpaid.</s>
.nf-
.pm illustnocap ad07 ad007.jpg 300
.sp
This, the Second Series of the now
world famed Motor Boys virtually starts
a new series, but retains all the favorite
characters introduced in the previous
books. The Motor Boys Series is the
biggest and best selling series of books
for boys ever published.
.sp
.ce 2
<l>NED, BOB AND JERRY AT BOXWOOD HALL</l>
<i><s>or The Motor Boys as Freshmen</s></i>
.sp
Fresh from their adventures in their automobile, their
motor boat and their airship, the youths are sent to college to
complete their interrupted education. Some boys at the institution
of learning have heard much about our heroes, and so
conclude that the Motor Boys will try to run everything to suit
themselves.
.sp
A plot is formed to keep our heroes entirely in the background
and not let them participate in athletics and other contests.
How the Motor Boys forged to the front and made warm
friends of their rivals makes unusually interesting reading.
.sp
.ce
Send For Our Free Illustrated Catalogue
.hr 80%
.ce
CUPPLES LEON CO., Publishers, NEW YORK
.ni
.pb
.sp 4
.in +4
.ce
<l>Transcriber's Notes:</l>
.if t
Italicized phrases are presented by surrounding the text with _underscores_.
Small capitals have been rendered in full capitals.
.sp
.if-
Punctuation has been standardized. Minor spelling and typographic errors have
been corrected silently,
except as noted below. Hyphenated words have been retained as
they appear in the original text, except as noted below.
.sp
On page 139, "knap-sack" has been changed to "knapsack" for internal
and time-period consistency.
.sp
On page 144, "long-flowing" has been changed to "long flowing".
.sp
On page 202, "areo" has been changed to "aero"
.sp
On the ad page "Tom Fairfield Series", "camp-fire" has been changed to 
"campfire" for internal consistency.
.in