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CHAPTER XXI
THE HAUNTED AIRSHIP

“Say, fellows, this is life on the ocean wave worth seeing, isn’t it?”

Hiram Dobbs spoke the words, and his auditors and jolly companions were the young aviator and Elmer Brackett. It was the second evening out of sight of land. The Albatross had made splendid speed, and the machinery had acted like a charm. Just about dusk, however, Professor Leblance had ordered a drop to lower level.

“There is a low barometric pressure,” Dave Dashaway had heard him say to Mr. King. “There is bound to be a change in the air currents shortly, and I want to determine our course from the way they act. There are some repairs to make, also, and we will slow down for at least two hours.”

The boys were immensely interested in the manœuvers of their craft under the direct manipulation of the professor. The Albatross was brought to the surface of the water, resting on its floats as easily and gracefully as the great ocean bird it was named after. A hint from the cook sat Hiram thinking. Fresh fish would come in very acceptably for breakfast next morning, he told Dave, and the trio decided to take the lighter of the two boats and see what they could catch.

Mr. King warned them to keep within hailing range of the airship and provided them with trolling lines. The young aviator and Elmer plied the oars and Hiram did the fishing. He was gloating over the occasion with satisfaction, and made the enthusiastic remark which heads the chapter as he deposited a final catch, a fat codfish, in the bottom of the boat.

“That will do, Hiram,” directed Dave. “We have got more fish already than we can use in a week, and some of them look as if they were not in the eating class. The cook will know.”

“Yes, and see, we are quite a distance from the Albatross,” put in Elmer.

A weird warning wind sang about them just then. The boys had been so engrossed in their sport they had failed to notice that some scudding clouds had obliterated the stars.

“Get to work, Elmer,” ordered Dave, picking up the oars. “We must be a full mile from the Albatross.”

“Yes, and maybe that storm Professor Leblance told about is going to catch us,” remarked Elmer, he too getting in shape for a row back to the airship.

The minor headlight of the Albatross guided them, and for this, a dim spark in the distance, the little yawl was headed. The water had become choppy, but the oarsmen felt equal to the task of the moment.

“Just see that!” shouted Hiram, as a phosphorescent streak crossed their course. “It’s like a streak of fire.”

“There’s another one ahead,” said Elmer.

“Yes, and look! look!” exclaimed Hiram. “It’s a shoal of fishes. Big fellows, too. Say, see them leap out of the water.”

It was a stimulating sight and a novel one to the boys. They were now within less than a quarter of a mile of the airship. As Hiram spoke, the big searchlight of the Albatross suddenly flared up. It signalled the boys to return, as Dave understood it.

“Say, I’m going to make a throw for one of those big fellows,” declared Hiram.

“Don’t do it. Whew!” exclaimed Elmer. “They are big fellows. Did you feel that?”

Some object had landed against the side of the yawl, nearly tipping it.

“It’s a big fish, almost as big as a shark!” shouted Hiram. “They’re chasing the smaller ones. Whoop! I’ve caught something. Hurrah! Slow down! Oh, the mischief!”

All in a fleeting second the excited lad shouted out, tugged at the trolling line, bracing his feet against the bottom of the boat, and then – flop! splash!

“Stop the boat!” rang out the voice of the young aviator, sharply, for Hiram, his hand tangled in the trolling line, had been pulled clear over the end of the yawl. His startled comrades saw him disappear, and strove staunchly to put the boat about. As the craft half turned, there was a shock and a crash.

A giant fish, perhaps a shark, had struck the boat amidships. The craft was splintered in half as quick as a flash. The next minute the young aviator and his companion were struggling in the water.

The big marine monster had apparently gone straight on its way in pursuit of a disappearing phosphorescent mass. Dave grabbed out at the one floating half of the wrecked yawl.

“This way – Hiram! Elmer!” he shouted at the top of his voice.

“I’m here,” panted Elmer, as he reached Dave’s side and grasped the edge of the floating wreck.

“Where’s Hiram?”

“U-um! Thunder!” puffed the individual in question. “I’m safe, but my big catch got away, line and all.”

“Never mind that now,” replied Dave. “We’re in a serious fix, fellows.”

“And all the fish in the boat gone, too,” mourned Hiram, dolefully.

“See here, both of you,” ordered Dave, decisively, “don’t waste any time. We don’t know what kind of danger hovers about us. Yell!”

“Good and loud!” agreed Hiram, letting out a terrific warwhoop. The others chorused in. Dave believed that their forlorn hail might have some effect.

“They’ve heard us,” cried Hiram, joyfully.

“Yes, here she comes,” added Elmer, in a relieved tone.

The searchlight on the Albatross was suddenly shifted. Its broad, groping rays were focussed on the sea, searching for the castaways. The glowing pencils of light came nearer and nearer. Finally the full dazzling gleam swept the wreck and those clinging to it, and rested on it.

“They have seen us,” declared the young aviator, as the searchlight maintained a full focus directly upon them.

“And what next?” inquired Hiram.

“We will have to wait and see,” replied Dave.

Relief and rescue came almost magically quick. The larger yawl of the Albatross glided across the broad path of light, the veteran airman, the anxious Grimshaw and two others its occupants.

“This ends all experiments in the fishing line,” declared Mr. King. “It is a wonder some of those sharks did not attack you.”

“The searchlight probably scared them away,” suggested Grimshaw.

The adventure furnished a fruitful theme for discussion when the boys were once more back in the comfortable cabin of the airship. Hiram, however, continued to expatiate on his great catch and greater loss.

“I’ll bet it was a dolphin pulled me out of the boat,” he declared. “Just think of it, fellows – catching a dolphin! That’s something to brag about.”

A storm set in within the hour and the Albatross speedily sought a higher level. All the boys knew about it was what Mr. King told them the next morning. The pleasing swaying motion of the giant craft had lulled them to sound and refreshing slumber.

It was again after dark the next evening when the cook came into the cabin, and looked at Mr. King in a manner that made the airman inquire curiously:

“What’s on your mind, Demys?”

“Why, I found a window broken in the room just beyond the larder,” reported the cook.

“Hailstone, maybe,” said Mr. King, casually; “you know we had some last night.”

“Yes, I know that,” replied the man. “Later to-day I noticed two more panes of glass cracked right across.”

“Perhaps the big strain of the wind in the storm last night weakened them,” suggested the airman.

“Maybe,” assented the cook, vaguely. “Funny thing, though. I set a pan of beans in the room to cool before supper. When I went after them just now I found nearly half of them gone.”

“Is that so, now?” questioned Mr. King, beginning to get interested.

“Say, don’t you suppose it was rats?” propounded the quick-thinking Hiram.

“No, sir!” declared the cook definitely. “I have never noticed a trace of rats in the Albatross.”

“Then I’ll bet it’s another stowaway – say, just like Elmer here was.”

All hands laughed abruptly at this unique piece of guesswork.

“I reckon I was the only intruder aboard, Hiram,” remarked Elmer, good-naturedly.

“Well, the beans are gone and somebody ate them,” said the cook. “It couldn’t be anybody of the crew, for no one has passed through the galley but myself, and the room I speak of is beyond it.”

“Suppose we investigate?” suggested the young aviator.

“That’s it,” agreed the impetuous Hiram. “Come on, fellows.”

All hands followed the cook to his quarters. They inspected the galley and then entered the room beyond it. Sure enough, there was the dish of beans, nearly half its original contents missing.

Hiram and Elmer explored every nook and corner of the place where there was the least opportunity for a stowaway to hide. Their search was without results.

“It’s certainly something of a mystery,” decided the young aviator. “Those cracked windows, too. Why,” he added, examining them closely, “it looks as though some one had deliberately hammered on them until they gave way, as you see.”

There was another sensation the next evening. The cook came rushing into the cabin. Mr. King happened to be on hand.

“I’m getting superstitious and scared,” declared the cook.

“What’s up now?” interrogated the airman.

“Enough for anybody’s nerves,” reported the man. “Sounds, scrapings, sort of low groans. I’m beginning to believe the airship is haunted.”

“Nonsense!” said Mr. King. “When did you hear these strange noises you describe?”

“Just now. See here, some of you come with me and see if you can figure this thing out.”

The boys were ready enough for the investigation. The cook led them to the galley, and they sat down as he put out all the lights.

“Now keep perfectly quiet and listen patiently,” directed the young aviator.

“There’s something,” spoke Hiram in a hoarse whisper, as a queer cooing sound came from the watched room. “Gently, now,” he added and crept through the doorway.

There was a fluttering sound. Dave traced it to a corner of the room where there were some boxes. The noise came from behind them. He groped with his hand, and his fingers finally grazed a feathery, shrinking object.

“Flare a light,” he called out instantly. “I’ve caught the stowaway.”

“Who is it? what is it?” cried Hiram, rushing forward as the electric lights were turned on.

“Why, it’s a bird – a pigeon,” announced Dave, dragging into view a ruffled, timid dove. “Here’s your mystery explained. The bird must have been driven through the broken window during that storm the other night. The poor thing was famished and ate the beans. Then it cracked the window panes trying to get out again.”

“You’ve got it, Dave,” declared Hiram, “only, say, what is that fastened under its wing?”

“Why, sure enough,” said Dave, observing what looked like an oilskin package fastened with silk cord under the wing of the bird. “Fellows, this must be a carrier dove. We must see Mr. King about this.”

The airman inspected the oilskin package. He read a written enclosure it contained.

“This is a trained passenger pigeon,” he said. “Started from Rio de Janeiro and carrying a message to its former home in Washington. Feed up the bird, boys, and we’ll send the brave little thing again on its journey.”

The next morning when the carrier pigeon was set free, started landwards, it bore a second message. This told the world that the giant airship was eight hundred miles on its trip across the broad Atlantic.

CHAPTER XXII
FIRE AT SEA

“Well, Dave, they stole a march on us last night.”

“How is that, Hiram?” questioned the young aviator.

“Landed. Yes, sir, the Albatross made a landing about midnight on the beach of some island – Bermuda or Bahama, or something like that. Last point of land this side of Europe, the professor says. Took on a fresh supply of water. Mr. King visited the town nearby and got some papers, and sent a message to the aero association.”

Hiram had just come from the cabin, preceding his comrade in waking up by a few minutes. When the two friends went to the cabin they found young Brackett waiting to take breakfast with them.

A few days had made a marked change in the new passenger of the Albatross. Everybody was pleasant and encouraging to him. He had become greatly interested in the workings of the airship. Dave had suggested to him that, owing to the fact that his father was a foremost manufacturer in the aeroplane line, he had a splendid opportunity to begin business life in the same field.

The Albatross had started out on its real voyage in fine shape, weather conditions being perfect. So far, except for the adventure among the mountain men of North Carolina, not one adverse incident had marred the flight.

The three friends chatted and joked buoyantly while dispatching their appetizing meal. Young Brackett had picked up one of the newspapers brought to the airship from the island just after midnight. He was looking it over casually, when he uttered a quick cry as of startled amazement.

“It’s not true!” he almost shouted, and he brought his fist down upon the table to emphasize the remark with such force that the dishes rattled.

“What’s not true, Brackett?” inquired the young aviator, in some surprise.

“Listen!” called out the lad in considerable excitement, and then he read from the newspaper:

“Another red, white and blue float was picked up three hundred miles from land by the steamer Royale. It proved to contain a dispatch with the readings: ‘Aug. 21, altitude one thousand feet, course due east, making splendid time. Airship Dictator: Signed, Roger Davidson, Perry Dawson, on board.’”

“That sounds like business,” exclaimed Hiram. “The twenty-first. That’s the day we started. They were forty-eight hours ahead of us.”

“Not true!” again declared young Brackett, sharply.

“You mean?” asked Dave, in wonder.

“Davidson and Dawson are not aboard of the Dictator.”

“Oh, pshaw, now how can you say that,” challenged the impetuous Hiram, “when here is the clear evidence?”

“You seem to know something we don’t know,” remarked Dave, with a close glance at Brackett. “The public prints announced that Davidson and Dawson started with the Dictator on the trip across the Atlantic on the afternoon of the nineteenth.”

“They did,” nodded Brackett. “I saw them. But they came back.”

“What’s that?” cried Hiram.

“Yes, they did.”

“In the Dictator?”

“Oh, no, and that’s the queer part of it. They may have lost their nerve – it looks that way. They may have hired someone else to take the risk of the trip. Anyhow, they got out of the Dictator after leaving Senca, and came back there at midnight. I slept that night in the place where they had built the Dictator. I saw them come, I saw them go away.”

“Brackett, you astonish me,” said Dave, bluntly. “Are you sure of what you say?”

“Perfectly,” declared the lad, with positiveness. “Davidson and Dawson came secretly to the old aerodrome. They had a big automobile, and loaded into it a long box. Both were disguised, and I recognized them only by their voices. I heard them speak of getting to the steamer. How to explain these dispatches, apparently dropped from the Dictator into the ocean, I don’t know. I’ve only told you what I do know.”

“Mr. King must know of this,” said Dave, thoughtfully.

No plausible solution of the tangle was arrived at, however. Amid the sheer exhilaration and activity of their own superb flight, the crew of the Albatross soon forgot the incident surrounding the rival airship with new mystery.

For two days and nights the giant airship made an even, steady run, true as a needle to a set course. There was a slight mist over the waters the next evening. So fair and promising was the weather, that Professor Leblance had deviated from the route he had first laid out. He had made an aerial short cut. The result was that they were somewhat out of the regular path of ocean travelers.

It was always a pleasure for the boys to watch out nights for the steamers far beneath them. That night, Grimshaw, seated at one of the windows, remarked in his usual laconic way:

“Light ahoy!”

“Where away?” chirped the active Hiram, who was priding himself on becoming quite nautical.

“Just ahead, somewhat to the southeast.”

“I see it,” said the young aviator.

“So do I,” joined in Hiram. “Why, say,” he added, excitedly a minute or two later, “that’s no light. It’s a fire.”

As they progressed and the radiance became plainer, all hands decided that Hiram was right. Nearer and nearer they came to the growing light. Flames became visible, then the fire fringed the outlines of hull and rigging.

Dave ran to the pilot room and quickly advised Mr. King of the circumstance. Professor Leblance was summoned from the engine room.

“Slow down and focus the searchlight on the ship,” he ordered.

This was done. It was a vivid and exciting scene. The great fingers of radiance went groping all about the craft. No one seemed aboard. No one seemed struggling in the waves about the ship.

Fast to its stern, however, by a long cable and thus held in position, was a rude raft. The searchlight showed a man standing upon this and viewing the blazing ship. At his feet, covered over with a tarpaulin, there seemed to be another human form.

“We cannot leave those people to their fate,” said the Professor. “Mr. King, we will drop the floats and stop, while you and the boys take the emergency yawl and go after whoever may be aboard of that raft.”

The Albatross rested its floats lightly upon the water and skimmed it slowly at an even height, like the royal bird after which it was named.

The handling of the yawl was of a piece with the operation of all the perfect utilities of the airship. The three boys took the oars and the airman acted as pilot.

Just as they got near to the raft they saw the man standing upright upon it, sever the cable holding it to the burning ship. The heat from the flames had evidently become too intense for him to bear. Then he posed in an attitude of suspense and eagerness, a wiry, keen-eyed little man. He had a long, oval metal box strapped across his shoulder, and was dripping wet.

“Good for you!” he hailed, as the airman grappled the raft with a boathook.

“Ship caught fire, did it?” remarked Mr. King.

“No, I set it.”

The yawl crew stared almost unbelievingly at the man as he made this statement, but he went on calmly:

“I had to. She’s water logged, and bound to sink the first capful of breeze that hits her.”

“Where are the passengers and crew?” asked the airman.

“Abandoned her early this morning. I was down in the cabin getting this” – and the speaker tapped the tin box as though it contained something precious. “They missed me, and were away in the boat before I knew it.”

“But the fire?”

“I made this raft ready against the ship scuttling. Thought I’d fire the ship for a signal for help. You see it did some good.”

“Well, get aboard,” ordered the airman.

“What about him?” inquired the shipwrecked man, and he pointed to the tarpaulin on the raft.

“Someone there?”

“Yes.”

“Who is it?”

“A man I rescued not an hour ago. He lay across a wooden grating, floating along past the ship. His head is bleeding, and he is unconscious.”

Mr. King directed Dave and Hiram to assist in lifting the insensible man to the yawl. The latter was limp and lifeless as some water logged rat. They placed him in the bottom of the yawl and resumed their oars.

“See here,” spoke the man with the tin box, “the best you can do for me is a sky sailor, is it?”

“That, or nothing,” replied the airman.

“Where are you bound for?”

“Across the Atlantic, for Europe.”

“I knew it would come some day,” observed the rescued man quite coolly. “You see, I’m an inventor myself. I’ve got in that tin box patents for a new kind of color photography that will make me millions. I’m not altogether poor just now, either, and if you set me and my patents safe on terra firma almost anywhere, I’ll pay a handsome reckoning.”

Within the hour the rescued men were hoisted safely into the airship and the yawl replaced in position. The unconscious man had been carried into one of the staterooms. Professor Leblance had quite a smattering of medicine. He examined the patient, prepared some remedies from a medicine chest the craft carried, and came into the cabin to report to Mr. Dale.

“A very sick man. What water and exposure have not done, a bad cut on the head has. He is delirious and in a weak and feverish condition. I would suggest that you in the cabin here take turns in caring for him.”

All hands were agreeable to this. In the excitement and bustle of the rescue, Dave and the others had not particularly noticed the sufferer. Dave had scarcely entered the place where the patient lay, however, with Hiram, when he gave a great start. He stood with his eyes fixed on the man, as he spoke hurriedly to his comrade.

“Go to Mr. King and tell him to come here at once.”

“What is it, Dashaway?” inquired the airman, appearing a few minutes later.

“Look, Mr. King,” said the young aviator, pointing to the prostrate man; “who is he?”

“Impossible!” ejaculated Mr. King, starting back. “Why, it’s Roger Davidson!”

There was no doubt of the fact. In turn Grimshaw, young Brackett and even Hiram confirmed the identification.

“Here’s a new mystery for you,” admitted Mr. King, coming into the cabin an hour later. “The clothes that man wore show little adaptability to airship work. In one of his pockets I found the main stub of a steamship ticket. He never fell from any airship. I can account for his extraordinary appearance upon the scene in one way only.”

“And that?” questioned Mr. Dale.

“Is that he was lost off some ocean steamer. One thing certain – the Dictator never started across the Atlantic with this man in charge.”

For three days Davidson lay insensible most of the time. Meanwhile the Albatross coursed its way without accident or delay. All hands were delighted over the success thus far of their wonderful enterprise. They passed the three-quarters distance mark with every prospect of reaching goal in splendid trim.

It was a cool, cloudy and misty night, and both the professor and airman were on close guard on account of the changed weather conditions. The boys were reading in the cozy cabin. Grimshaw and Mr. Dale had gone to bed, and everything seemed proceeding smoothly in engine and pilot rooms. Finally Hiram looked up from his book.

“We are surely going to make it,” he remarked. “The professor says that it will be a clean shoot ahead for land first thing in the morning.”

“I can hardly realize that there is every chance of reaching the goal and winning the prize,” observed the young aviator.

“Say, what was that?” abruptly interjected young Brackett.

There had come a sudden shock. It resembled a wrench, a shiver; as if some vital part of the giant mechanism had met with disaster.

“Something wrong!” cried Dave, springing to his feet.

At that moment a blood-curdling yell echoed through the airship.