“Dashaway,” he said quite excitedly, “I’ve got to get back to my charge, don’t dare to leave him alone, you know but I wanted you to read something,” and the speaker extended some folded sheets of paper.
“Why, what is this?” inquired the young aviator.
“You know I understand shorthand—humph! it’s about all I am good for, I reckon,” added Elmer, in his usual deprecating way. “Well, for the past hour or two my patient has been saying some strange things.”
“What about?” asked Dave—“the Dictator and Jerry Dawson, I suppose?”
“You’ve guessed it. I’ve written out his ramblings in long hand. I fancy your quick mind will weave a pretty startling story out of it all.”
“There’s the professor,” said Dave abruptly, “I’ll read your notes later, Brackett,” and he thrust the sheets into his pocket, and started towards the beach as he saw Professor Leblance leave the hotel, bound in the same direction.
The failure of the ambitious Frenchman had almost crushed him. Dave felt sorry for him as he noted the drooping head and dejected manner of the scientist. He did not approach him closely, but followed him at a distance. As they rounded some rocks the Albatross came into full view.
Professor Leblance, walking slowly, gazed with sadness upon the inert monster of the air. Then he looked up at a hail. A fisherman was running towards him. Dave noticed the professor brace up magically at the first words of the native. The latter pointed to the air and the sea. His pantomime was expressive and energetic.
There came a sudden blast of wind, and then Dave understood. He noticed the professor start on a keen run for the Albatross. He was up the trailing rope ladder sprightly as a lad, shouting some orders to the fisherman, who ran towards the guy cable attached to a great tree trunk.
“It can’t be possible,” almost gasped the startled young airman, “that Professor Leblance is thinking of trusting to the wind alone to finish the flight. It’s true! I won’t be left behind!”