“I reckon they’re coming now,” said Hiram. “I’ll stay and help you get them aboard.”
A man with a loaded pushcart came into view from the front of the tavern. He was noticed by the landlord, who talked with him and then kept up with him until they neared the two young aviators.
“Why,” exclaimed the tavern keeper, with a stare at the Comet, “came back, did you?”
“Eh?” spoke Hiram—“came back from where?”
“S-st!” warned Dave, in an instant making a broad guess, at least canvassing a quick suspicion that came into his mind. Then he addressed the landlord with the words: “We need some store supplies, and we’ll be very much obliged if you will allow us to anchor here for a few hours.”
“Sure, sure,” answered the man readily. “This is an airship, really and true; isn’t it now?” and the speaker walked clear around the machine, inspecting it in open-mouthed wonder. “Well, well, what a contrivance. I’ve seen pictures of these affairs. That’s how I knew what it was when you flew over the town just after dusk.”
“H’m!” whispered Hiram, nudging his companion secretly. “I see.”
Dave “saw,” too. An airship had sailed over a few hours previous! As the young aviator well knew, it was not the Comet. Naturally, it might be some one of the other contestants in the great race around the world. Thinking of his enemies, however, Dave was wise enough to remain wary until he was sure of the identity of the machine referred to by the inn-keeper.
“Where’s the man that came here about an hour ago?” questioned the landlord, looking over the young airmen and beyond them.
Dave gave his hand a vague swing westward and skywards.