“And Mr. Dave Dashaway—do you know where I can find him?”
The young airman overheard this conversation. He stepped forward at once with the words:
“I am Dave Dashaway. What can I do for you?”
The chauffeur moved aside with a movement of his head towards the automobile. Its occupant leaned slightly forward, and extended a daintily gloved hand. As Dave advanced and lifted his cap she spoke to him in a low, tremulous tone.
“I wish to speak to you for a few moments, Mr. Dashaway,” she said. “In private,” she added, with a glance at the several persons in view.
“Certainly,” responded Dave readily, but in some wonderment. “There is our office, miss. May I assist you?”
The little lady uttered a fluttering sigh as our hero helped her from the machine and led the way to the living tent. Hiram had just lighted a lamp. Both he and Elmer regarded their friend’s companion in some surprise. They were too well bred, however, to stare at the newcomer, who seemed timid and uncertain. The boys moved quietly from the tent, Dave set a stool for his visitor and seated himself at a little distance, awaiting her pleasure.
“You must not think it strange that I have come to you, Mr. Dashaway,” she said. “I—that is, I was directed to you by a very close friend, who knows you well.”
“Ah, indeed?” spoke the young airman.
“Yes, I bring you a letter from a friend of my dear father, who is as well a close friend of your own—Mr. Robert King.”