"I think he is under contract clear up to the end of the season," explained Dave.
"Sorry for that, but he is such a good friend to you and to us, and
I fancy he would gladly cooperate with advice and direction."
"Yes, indeed," assented Dave.
"We owe you a good deal more than your contract income already, Dashaway," said the manager. "I don't think there's an aviator living ever had a finer settlement than you will have if you succeed in running down the Drifter."
"I'll try," said Dave.
"That's capital."
"Give me a few hours to think it over," suggested Dave.
The young aviator left the Interstate plant very thoughtful and serious. Dave decided that he had assumed a big responsibility. He seemed to feel an actual ponderous weight on his young shoulders.
A score of theories ran riot through his mind its to the motive for the theft of the Drifter. Then he decided that it must be some professional who had done the act. It was hard to fathom the ultimate plans of such an abstractor, who would not dare to use the machine in any public way and could scarcely sell it.
"It's a puzzle, a big, worrying poser," said Dave, walking slowly from the factory grounds.