Hiram was in deep distress. He realized that he, only a boy, had on his hands a task that might well baffle the shrewdest detective. A dozen impulses and plans came to his mind, but he rejected them all, fearing to cause complications.
“Indeed, I don’t know what to do,” he said to Bruce. “If I go to the management back at the grounds, they may cancel our entrant, and then Dave may show up. They will want some evidence besides my say so, and my suspicions, before they will be willing to accuse anybody of having a hand in the affair. If I charge that Syndicate mob boldly with having a hand in the burning of the Ariel, it will put them more than ever on their guard, and they will hide Dave closer than ever. Oh, but I must do some tall thinking! Of course the very next thing is to get in touch with Mr. Brackett. We’ll get back to the grounds right away.”
An unexpected shower came up, and pilot, passenger and machine received quite a drenching. The rain had stopped by the time they reached the grounds. It made Bruce Beresford sad to watch the face of his friend. Hiram was like a rudderless boat, without Dave. The responsibilities suddenly thrust upon him seemed to stagger him. He was so harried, worried and flurried that he walked up and down before the hangar, so nervous and stirred up he could not keep still.
“It seems to me, Hiram,” suggested Bruce, “that the best thing to do is to tell the management about the whole business. Surely they will do something to help you.”
“I’m trying to think if it’s best to do that,” responded Hiram. “I’m trying to block out a way to act so I won’t make any mistake. You don’t know this game as well as I do. It isn’t the first time this kind of a thing has happened to us. Let me alone for a bit, Bruce, till I get everything straightened out in my mind.”
“Don’t you bother about the Scout, Hiram. I’ll clean up and get it into the hangar,” said Bruce.
He rubbed the metal parts dry and shining and swept up the litter in the cockpit. A good deal of sand had gotten into this. He was pulling out the seat cushions, when something caught his finger, pricking it sharply. It was a metal point of some kind, and looking closer Bruce made out that it was a stick pin.
He picked this up, and as he did so noticed a second pin lying on the seat frame, hitherto concealed by the cushion. A quick flash of intelligence came into his mind. Quite roused up, Bruce shouted to his friend:
“Hiram, come here, I think I’ve made an important discovery!”