“What’ll they do when they find out he’s hocussed them?” asked Bruce.
“I have supplied our good friend, Mr. Borden, with the means of going about where he pleases,” observed Mr. Brackett with a smile. “They won’t find him unless he wants to be found, you may rest assured of that fact.”
“And are those fellows to be allowed to go scot free after all they’ve done!” cried the indignant Hiram.
“I hardly think we will disturb them if they leave us alone—at least for the present,” replied the manufacturer. “You see, Hiram, we might not be able to fasten the plot directly upon them. It is still my opinion that Vernon, our old time enemy, is the main actor in all these outrages, although he has pretty cleverly covered up his tracks.”
“Well, so far—everything is fine!” declared the volatile Hiram. “Oh, Dave, if you only win the altitude contest to-morrow!”
“The new Ariel can do its share,” insisted Mr. Brackett.
“I shall try to do mine,” added the young aviator modestly.
“Fifty points!” murmured Hiram. “Score that and you are sure of the big prize,” and Hiram had a vision of that official blackboard marker giving to his chum the second award in the International contest.
Four machines besides their own were listed for the altitude contest and the Whirlwind was among them. The first thing the observant Hiram noticed as they reached the center field was that Valdec wore his ordinary sailing jacket. Dave was fully prepared for any cold he might run into. Besides that, at his side, was a light, round tank with a coil of rubber hose running from it.
“We’re testing an emergency oxygen supply, if the air gets too rarefied,” Dave explained to Hiram. “It may work in quite well when we get up above ten thousand feet.”