CHAPTER VI
A STARTLING DISCOVERY
“Go in by all means, Dave.”
It was Mr. Brackett, the aircraft manufacturer, who spoke, and never was a decision more welcome to boyish ears than this announcement. Prompt with his engagement, as was his business rule, the President of the Interstate Aero Company had arrived at the Midlothian grounds at eight o’clock in the morning, of the day succeeding Hiram’s adventure with the Scout.
There had been warm greetings, for Dave felt deeply grateful to the wealthy manufacturer who had so advanced his interests. His impetuous assistant was equally responsive. As to Mr. Brackett, it had been a great satisfaction for him to realize that his young protégés had not only made good the promise of their early professional career, but had largely been the means of popularizing the machines turned out at his plant.
He had listened to all that Dave had to say, had gone over the papers sent from the promoters of the International meet at Chicago, had considered for a few moments, and then had settled the matter of Dave’s participation in the six words above noted. Hiram’s eyes sparkled. A dazzling picture of new fame and sure success came into his imaginative mind.
“I’ve got to say something or bust, Mr. Brackett!” he exploded. “I hardly slept last night for thinking of it all. Why, where should Dave be but in the front ranks at Chicago? A first-class prize meet would be second-class without the aviator who won the trans-Atlantic medal, and looped the loop at Philadelphia ahead of all the competitors, and invented all the new wrinkles in hydro-aeroplane work at Cape May, and——”
“There, there, Hiram—that will do,” interrupted Dave, but smiling indulgently. “From the entrants’ list they send us there will be no ordinary talent at the Chicago meet and no worn-out stunts will pass. We’ve got to better ourselves and prepare for real work, if we expect to make a showing.”
“You’ve got the last word, the real finishing touch in the Ariel, Dave,” reminded Mr. Brackett.
“I appreciate that, yes, indeed,” responded the young airman warmly, and with pride. “And it means half the battle.”
“I suppose you can realize our interest in this meet,” continued Mr. Brackett. “If the Ariel wins, it standardizes our new model in a manner, and means thousands of dollars in effective advertising for the Interstate Aero Company.”
“I’m going to do my level best,” Dave assured him, and he was so stirred with hope, faith and eagerness that he paced about restlessly. “There are some points I am sure of—distance flights, altitude and speed. None of them can meet the Ariel there. The stunt programme, though, is another thing. I want to study up on that and practice, and I would like to have a talk with the managers at Chicago as soon as possible.”
“Just what I was about to suggest, Dave,” said Mr. Brackett. “I don’t see anything gained by your staying here at the Midlothian grounds. In fact, after what you tell me of the explosion yesterday morning, I strongly advise making a move. Has that tramp friend of yours shown up?”
“No, he hasn’t reported, as I expected he would,” replied Dave rather disappointedly, and the manufacturer looked thoughtful as though entertaining some suspicions. Hiram broke in with the words:
“He’s true blue, though, Mr. Brackett; I’ll vouch for him! If he hasn’t got to us yet, it’s because he hasn’t found any trace of the man he’s after.”
“And have you no idea as to the motive for the attempt to destroy the Ariel?” asked the manufacturer.
“I have!” cried Hiram in his usual forcible way. “When we come to trace this thing down, we will certainly find that it goes back to that schemer, Vernon, who has made us so much trouble in the past.”
“Have you heard anything of Vernon lately, Dave?” inquired Mr. Brackett.
“Nothing definite. Of course I realize that he would find it policy to keep out of our way. He knows we would advise the management of any meet where he might happen to be, that he is a dangerous man, and as such ought to be excluded by the Association.”
“Yes, but cloud-work is all the fellow knows,” suggested Hiram, “and he will naturally always be a hanger-on in that line. He’s slick enough to work under cover. He’s bad enough, too, to agree to do any unfair work a rival might want to have done against us. That dynamite wasn’t planted in our hangar for fun. Look out for Vernon, I say, and look out sharp, for we haven’t heard the last of him yet, you mark me!”
“Well, once at Chicago, you will find better protection,” submitted Mr. Vernon. “Ah whom have we here?”
“A thousand pardons,” spoke an intruder, and there crossed the threshold of the hangar at that juncture Lieutenant Montrose Mortimer. The suspicion was instantly suggested to Dave that the reputed Englishman might have been lingering outside to choose this special moment for an appearance.
“Got a cablegram from my people abroad this morning, Dashaway,” he continued glibly. “They are urging me to reach some definite results.”
“This is Mr. Brackett, of whom I spoke to you yesterday, Lieutenant,” said Dave, introducing the manufacturer. “He might be interested to bear of the remarkable aviation progress in England.”
“Ah, just so, just so,” assented the lieutenant, with a searching look at Mr. Brackett. “Why, sir, I have told our young friend here of the flight-camps the British admiralty have established at Aldershot. I have been commissioned to secure some good tutoring material, and the fame of Dashaway naturally led me to him. It is example and direction that our novices need, and I can promise fine pay and a permanency. We have the best Benoist models, Gyro motors, and every standard wrinkle. The war has made it just as insistent for us to secure the best birdmen as armament and shells.”
The lieutenant rattled on at a great rate and Mr. Brackett listened quietly. Believing that he was impressing his audience, Mortimer drew some papers from his pocket, selected one, and began figuring up the income possibilities of an energetic up to date expert like Dave.
“This is very interesting, Lieutenant Mortimer,” said the manufacturer finally, “but I fear Mr. Dashaway is not in a position to accept your flattering offer.”
“Regret—disappointed. I could cable my people for more liberal terms if——”
“It would be of no use,” said Mr. Brackett. “Dashaway is going to enter for the Chicago meet, and will leave here forthwith.”
“Oh, indeed!” observed their visitor, as if he had received a valuable piece of news, and he arose quickly, brushing pencil and paper to the floor. “Sorry! Going to make it in this superb biplane of yours, Dashaway?”
“Yes, we shall take the Ariel with us, of course,” replied Dave. He said it reluctantly, however. He had noted a subtle eagerness in the face of his questioner that he did not like.
“That fellow is a fraud,” broadly announced the manufacturer, as the alleged representative of the British admiralty bowed his way out of the hangar.
“That’s been my opinion all along,” echoed Hiram promptly. “You can speak right out,” he added to Dave. “The fellow’s out of sight. I followed him purposely to the door, for he looked as if he might be thinking of sneaking around to overhear what we might say. He noticed me, and bolted for it. Say, did you see him prick up his ears and act sort of rattled, when you told him that we were going to leave here?”
“That struck me,” acquiesced Mr. Brackett. “As I said, he is palpably a fraud.”
“Why do you say that, Mr. Brackett?” inquired Dave.
“Because I happen to know something about the aircraft situation in England. The big operating point for military aviation requirements is not at Aldershot, but at the Brookland Motor Course and Flying Grounds, which has been taken over by the government for tests and speed trials, the general public being strictly excluded.”
“Huh!” bristled up Hiram, thinking hard—“what’s coming along now?”
“Another thing,” resumed the manufacturer, “when this lieutenant of yours speaks of Benoists and Gyro Motors, he is talking about something he does not understand. The principal flyers adopted by the admiralty are American models, and the Green water cooled engine has just won the two hundred and fifty thousand dollar prize in the national test in England.”
“Why, what can the man’s object be in going to all this trouble and duplicity?” asked Dave.
“It doesn’t look clear, nor right, to me, Dave,” answered Mr. Brackett. “If this is another part of some plot to do you, or your machine harm, it is high time that you were away from here and,——”
“It is!” startlingly interrupted Hiram. “Say, I’ve got the key to the whole business!”
Both Mr. Brackett and Dave stared at the speaker in wonderment. Hiram was very much excited. He was waving something in his hand, but it was not the “key” to which he alluded. It was, in fact, the piece of paper on which Lieutenant Montrose Mortimer had been figuring that Hiram had picked up from the floor of the hangar.
“Look there!” he shouted, exhibiting its reverse side. “See! It’s a telegram from Chicago. Read it, and see if I’ve been guessing wrong all along!”
Hiram held the sheet so that his companions could plainly read the following alarming message:
“Keep Dashaway and his machine out of the race at any cost.”
And it was signed: “Vernon.”