“Perhaps not, but don’t you see that they have spoiled his whole future? They have put his biplane out of the way—they will keep Dave out of the way till the International meet is over.”
“The crowd you told me about—the Syndicate people?” asked Bruce.
“Who else? What will Mr. Brackett say when he hears of this? How am I going to find out where they have taken Dave? Oh!” cried the excited lad, “I’m just half crazy over these doings! Wait here and watch the Scout. They’ll be after that next,” and Hiram sped away, after a sweeping glance in every direction.
He had made out a man with a rake covering the ruts in the straggly winding road that ran across the waste space. He came up with him and asked:
“Have you been here long?”
“All day, here and hereabouts,” was the reply, as the worker rested on his rake and seemed glad to break the monotony of his task in that lonely spot by talking to some one.
“Did you notice an airship within the last hour or so?”
“I did,” answered the old man. “It was over to the north yonder. It did some fancy whirls. I watched it a bit, then I went on with my work. They’re getting common, those flyers.”
“Have you seen anybody over near that clump of poplars?” and Hiram indicated the spot where he had left Bruce and the Scout.
“Why, yes, I did,” answered the road-mender. “Thought it was sort of queer, too. It must have been nigh onto two hours since, when three men, driving a covered wagon, drove off from the road here. They cut across in the direction you say. I wondered why, for the loose sand don’t make easy going for a horse. The hummocks shut them out after a bit, and I thought no more of them until I noticed a lot of smoke near that patch of poplars. I then made up my mind they were campers, come down on a sand-crane hunt.”