Mr. Brackett had suddenly appeared from among the crowd. With him was the manager of the meet, and two other officials. Hiram fancied that the manufacturer was dilating on the points of the new machine, for he moved his hand about, making a sweeping movement over this and that portion of the beautiful mechanism.
Hiram fixed a look upon the chum of whom he had such good reason to feel proud. Never had the young aviator looked so completely at his best. Dave’s eye was bright, his face bronzed with sunburn. He wore an entirely new outfit. He was paying respectful but intelligent attention to the questions of those about him.
“I wonder,” breathed Hiram suddenly. He turned squarely around. It was in the direction of the Syndicate airship. They had named it the Whirlwind. Its pilot had just alighted.
Valdec stood holding to one of the wings, as if spellbound. His lower jaw had fallen, his face was a picture of amazement and discomfiture. To Hiram his usually sneering lips seemed drawn and white as he put some question to Worthington, who stood at his side.
The latter muttered something. Then his head went forward until his big, full neck showed. It was something like a mastiff baffled of its prey. Hiram Dobbs laughed, he could not help it—a joyous, boyish, delighted laugh, and those about the Whirlwind heard him. He received a menacing glance from Valdec. Worthington scowled darkly and showed his teeth.
“Dave!” cried Hiram again, watching his chance, and bolting past several persons engaged in admiring inspection of the new Ariel.
His chum leaped from his seat and their hands met. Their eyes also. In those of his tutor, and close friend, Hiram read nerve and courage. Somehow, he had a sure conviction that Dave Dashaway had come upon the scene at the last moment determined to win.
Not a word passed between them. Too many were listening, and Hiram had sense enough to copy the pleasing composure of his leader. The signal for clearing the field was given from the judges’ stand. Hiram waved a hand joyously at his chum, and got under the ropes. He made out Mr. Brackett and hurried after him, to find Bruce at his heels. The latter did not have the professional badge which had admitted the others to the field.
“Ah, Dobbs!” greeted the big manufacturer, as Hiram crowded up to his side. “And you too, Beresford? Taken care of everything, of course?”
“Just followed orders—sure!” replied Hiram, nodding energetically.