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CHAPTER 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.
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.
The Comet 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.
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!”
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.
“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 Comet sailed downward, struck the ground, and glided to a stop.
CHAPTER 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.
“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 Comet 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 Comet 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.
“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 Comet 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 Comet 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. 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 Comet. 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 Comet; “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.”
“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 Comet, “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. “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 Comet. 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.
“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.
“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.
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 Comet 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.”
“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 Comet.
CHAPTER 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 Comet 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 Comet, 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.
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 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.
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 Comet. Hiram came running towards it.
“You, Dave?” he called out cautiously.
“With company,” answered Dave promptly.
“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.”
No one appeared to observe or hinder the airship boys as they made their preparations to resume their journey. The pilot of the Comet 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 Comet came to anchor. In about ten minutes the other machine made an easy descent almost at the side of the Comet.
“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.”
“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 Comet.
“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 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 Comet.
“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 Comet. “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 Comet in trim.”
“Going to start up, eh?” remarked Elmer.
“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.”
