CHAPTER XVII
ON THE WING
Hiram stared his hardest at the stranger, Dave's eyes quickened with sudden intelligence. Almost in a flash he took in the situation.
"You just mentioned a name," he said. "I would like to mention another one."
"All right, what?"
"James Price."
"Hello!"
The stranger looked flabbergasted, as the saying goes. He furrowed his brow as if puzzled.
"You have made a mistake," continued Dave. "You think one of us two is Jerry Dawson."
"I did think it, yes," admitted the man, a trifle less self assured than at first.
"Wrong."
"Is that so, now?"
"Yes. You know Mr. Price, don't you?"
"Perhaps I do."
"And you are on the lookout for an airship, but not this machine. Let me explain briefly, and see if we cannot come to an understanding."
Dave surmised that the stranger must be one of the assistants of Mr. Price, the revenue officer. In a very few minutes he knew that this was true. Assured from Dave's talk that he was not the Dawson boy, and that the hydro-aeroplane before him was not the Drifter, the man became very friendly.
It seemed that he was one of the agents of the revenue service. He made his headquarters at Millville, and had received a telegram from Mr. Price the day previous to look out for the stolen airship. This was before Mr. Price had met Dave at Bolton, but immediately after Mr. King at Columbus had told him of the discovery that the Dawsons had made away with the Drifter.
So far as the man knew, none of the many assistants of Mr. Price had found any traces of the missing aero-hydroplane. Dave did not enlighten him as to his plans and destination, for the man's present duties were simply those of a lookout at Millville.
The stranger stayed and chatted with the boys for over two hours, and then went away. Dave had told him that they would not start out again with the Monarch II until after dark. About six o'clock the man drove up with a wagon.
"Thought you might be getting tired of cold dry fare," he said, "so
I've brought you a real supper for a change."
"Why, say, you're a prince!" cried the impetuous Hiram, as the man lifted a gas oven from the wagon, and then a shallow box, and the contents of both receptacles were revealed.
The oven contained two heaping dishes of lamb chops, and potatoes, still quite warm. From the box the stranger produced all the trimmings for a first class meal.
"This is pretty kind and thoughtful of you," said Dave.
"Nothing too good for friends of Mr. Price," insisted the man.
"Besides, I remember how good the present of a meal has been when
I've got stranded on duty myself."
The speaker, it seemed, had been a member of the Canadian mounted police. The boys whiled the time away interestingly during the next two hours, listening to some of, his exciting experiences with Indians and outlaws in the Winnipeg wilds.
It was just after dark when the Monarch started on the second stage of the journey. Three stops were made during the ensuing six, hours. Dave was very tired and Hiram pretty sleepy, when, at three o'clock in the morning, the machine came to rest on a little reed-covered island in the center of a swampy stretch.
"We may stay here for several days, I don't know exactly how long," the young aviator told his assistant.
"You don't suppose that the Dawsons and the Drifter are anywhere near here, do you?" inquired Hiram.
"Perhaps not, but we are near Ironton, on the American side of Lake
Superior. If Mr. Price's theories are all right, that fellow,
Ridgely, will begin his new operations somewhere in this district."
"I see," nodded Hiram. "What are we to do now—sleep?"
"As much as we like for the next eight or ten hours."
"I'm ready," announced Hiram. "It's been fine and dandy up aloft there, but I notice that when it doesn't make a fellow hungry it does make him good and sleepy."
"All right, we'll bunk down, Hiram. I don't think any one is likely to run across us in this out-of-the-way place."
"I don't think so, either," responded Hiram, and was soon asleep and snoring.
The breakfast programme of the previous morning was repeated later.
Hiram called the whole thing a picnic, and was jolly and happy.
"One thing, though," he said; "isn't something exciting going to happen soon, Dave?"
"We ought to be pretty well satisfied with the splendid cruise of the Monarch II," suggested Dave.
"Yes, but I'm getting anxious to run across some of the smugglers. I've read a lot about them in the papers and books. They must be great fellows to tackle, with their cutlasses, and walking the plank, and treasure hoards."
"Why, Hiram," laughed Dave, "you're not thinking of smugglers."
"What am I then?"
"Pirates."
"Oh, yes, that's so," agreed Hiram. "Well, the Dawsons are worse than pirates. They won't give up that airship without a tussle, I can tell you."
"All I want to do is to locate them," said Dave. "The government will do the rest."
Dave left the camp, as they called it, about noon. He had some difficulty in getting from the island to the mainland, as the soil was soggy and at places two feet deep with water. He accomplished the task, however, with only a slight wetting.
The young aviator had been given the address, of one of Mr. Price's men at Ironton. He visited his office, but found him absent for the day. Then he wired his progress to the Interstate people and told them if necessary to reach, him at the Northern Hotel.
Dave went to the hotel and made arrangement with the clerk as to mail and telegrams. He decided to remain in the vicinity of Ironton till he got in touch with the revenue officer's agent there. He was just leaving the hotel when one placed a hand on his shoulder, with the friendly words:
"Why, hello, Dashaway."
Dave turned quickly, startled for a moment. Then his face broke into smiles of warm welcome.
"Mr. Alden," he said, and returned the friendly hand clasp of his companion.
The chance meeting took Dave's mind back instantly to a most pleasant period of his experience since leaving his guardian's home at Brookville.
It was Mr. Alden, the moving picture man, who had given Dave what might be called his first start in business life. Dave had posed for the "movies," and later he and Mr. King had taken a prominent part in some motion pictures bringing in the monoplane, the Aegis.
"I didn't expect to see you way up here, Dashaway," spoke Mr. Alden.
"How are you getting along?"
"First class, thanks to the friendly help you gave me in the first place," responded the young aviator.
"I'm glad of that. Come up to my room and tell me all about it, Dashaway. Now then, for a talk over old times," resumed the moving picture man, as they were comfortably seated in his room at the hotel.
Dave parried a good many questions. He did not exactly wish to tell Mr. Alden about his business, which in the present case was also that of his employers. He managed to lead Mr. Alden to talk of his own affairs.
"Oh, I've had the actors up here on a lot of marine scenarios," explained the moving picture man. "They went away only this morning. We've been picturing 'The Island Hermit of Lake Superior,' 'Iron Miners' Revenge,' 'Flight Across the Border,' and 'The Mystery of the Pineries.' Great scenery around here for fittings, you see. There are some of my key negatives on the table there, look them over."
Dave examined some of the films with interest. The former kindness of Mr. Alden and his party had left a warm spot in the heart of the young aviator for anything concerning the movies.
"There's some plain slides we made to catch the costumes and figures," added Mr. Alden, pointing to a rack containing about a dozen glass negatives.
Dave began holding them up to the light in turn. He had inspected perhaps one half of them, when he somewhat startled the moving picture man with a sharp sudden exclamation.
"Mr. Alden," he asked quite excitedly, "where did you take that slide?"