As the young airman had put it, he and his good-natured and well-intentioned assistant were now “taking a rest.” They had come to Midlothian, a practice field of a Mississippi river city, to be near several points where exhibition aviation features were in progress. Mr. Brackett had been the mainstay, financially, of Dave all through his professional career. It was true that the young aviator had essentially won his own way and had helped to make famous the output of the Interstate Aero Company, of which Mr. Brackett was practically the owner. Still, Dave felt that all he had gained had been through the encouragement and assistance of the manufacturer. As a matter of fact, Dave deferred greatly to the opinion and direction of this valuable friend. He had been expecting his arrival daily at the Midlothian grounds, to talk over the situation and prospects for future work.
“Whew!” ejaculated Hiram, as he pulled open the door of the hangar, and rushed in. “Fire!”
“No, only smoke,” corrected Dave—“and not much of that, lucky for us!”
“I say!” cried his companion in an exasperated tone as he went spinning off his feet. Contact with an indistinct, wildly-rushing human form had caused this. There had been a smoky haze inside the hangar that had hid the aroused sleeper from clear view. Now, however, the tramp was plainly visible. He looked startled and scared and he was nursing the fingers of his left hand in the palm of the other.
“What’s happened—are you hurt?” inquired Dave.
“Whew! Well—why, oh, it’s only a little burn, but—catch the rascal!”
As the speaker finished the rapidly shouted sentence he dashed towards the fence. Upon this the rear of the hangar backed. The tramp was quick, and as nimble as a monkey as he ran at the fourteen-foot barrier. One of its slanting supports carried him within reach of the bracing stringer. He lifted himself to this. From the ground the aeroplane boys could see him bobbing his head about among the barbed wire runners, strung along on top of the fence, as if to catch a view of a vacant field beyond.
The tramp yelled out some disjointed words, and shook his fist angrily, as if after a scurrying fugitive. Then he slid down to the ground and faced Dave and Hiram, panting and excited.
“He made off—he got away!” the tramp ejaculated. “Too bad! I’m so big I couldn’t get through that window.”
“What window?” inquired Hiram.