The big bulky constable was clinging to the machine body, his feet dangling, his face white and scared-looking, swaying helplessly except for his frantic hand-hold fifty feet above the ground!
CHAPTER II
AN INVOLUNTARY PASSENGER
Dave Dashaway’s assistant knew his business too well to attempt any rash or reckless change in the course of the biplane. At a glance Hiram had taken in the situation. In a flash he gave the right order.
“Help him—pull him in,” he directed.
“Yes, he’ll smash the wing and we’ll all go down in a heap if he hangs on there,” declared Elmer, quickly.
“Let me off! Let me off!” puffed and panted the constable. “Help! I’ll drop! Murder! I’m a goner!”
“Easy, officer!” cried out Hiram, in his clear, ringing tones. “Don’t get rattled or you’ll be gone, indeed.”
Elmer had grasped the arm of the clinging man. He had strapped himself into his seat, and this position assisted in giving him a tugging strength that counted for something. The white, scared face of the constable came nearer and nearer to him. Through great efforts the trespasser was hauled up over his center of balance, and he tumbled into the vacant seat all in a heap.
“Let down this balloon! I’ve got a warrant,” began the constable, breathlessly—“oogh!”