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CHAPTER X
A MIDNIGHT ALARM
“Why, hello, Hiram Dobbs!”
The young sub-pilot of the Comet 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?”
“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.
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 Comet, 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 Comet. It was talked around here that some wanted to put the Comet out of the race because of her good chances.”
“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 Comet 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.
The young pilot of the Comet had some very pleasant words for Will Mason. The offer of the hangar lad to take charge of the Comet 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 Comet.”
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.
“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 Comet chatted in a friendly way with Will for a few minutes. Then the trio repaired to a little hotel just outside the grounds. 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.”
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.
CHAPTER 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 Comet 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 Comet?”
“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 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?”
“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 Comet 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 Comet 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.
“Dave,” suddenly whispered Hiram, in a shaking tone, “the Comet 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 Comet out – ”
“When you what?” shouted Hiram, in a frenzy of suspense.
“Why, I guess you’re thinking your machine was blown up,” said Will.
“Of course we do,” answered Elmer.
“Well, the Comet 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 Comet 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 Comet 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 Comet.”
“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 Comet 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.”
“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 Comet 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.
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.”
CHAPTER 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 Comet 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 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 Comet 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.
“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 Comet 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.
“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.”
“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.”
“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 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 Comet. 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 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!”
