CHAPTER IV
A MYSTERIOUS VISITOR
Dave Dashaway stood at the entrance to the hangar of the _Comet_ atSylvan Park. The machine had done nobly on the trial field near theCapitol city. Now it was housed among the group of competitors in thegreat race. The pick of the world’s best airmen was represented at thisinternational meet, and the scene was one of activity and interest.
The airship boys were comfortably housed in the living tent just beyondthe hangar. At first upon arriving it had been decided to have Elmerstay away from the field until the final start was made. This procedurewas actuated by the fear that the troublesome Vernon might put in anappearance and continue to annoy and hamper the young airman. The nextmorning, however, Mr. Brackett arrived.
“I am here for two reasons,” he had announced. “First, I wish to see ourlast word in biplanes, the _Comet_, sail off on the race I know you aregoing to win. Next, I want to be on hand if that troublesome Vernontries any more of his tricks.”
“I hardly think he will attempt to follow us this far,” was theexpressed opinion of our hero. “It would cost him some money, and itwould be somewhat dangerous for him to work any trumped-up charge withso many of our airmen friends around to defeat his plans.”
“There is still more than that,” remarked the airship manufacturer, in aconfident way.
“What do you mean, father?” inquired his son.
“Just this,” answered Mr. Brackett, “as I left home my lawyer, who waslooking up Vernon, put in my possession some documents that will enableme to baffle this wretch at every turn. I only hope he will appear. Itwill be to receive a final quietus, believe me.”
The big event was now only three days distant. The _Comet_ was inperfect shape for its long flight. The boys had used prevision andjudgment in all their preparations; and had not really much to do. Dave,however, was kept pretty busy with a constant stream of visitors.Professional and otherwise, those who had seen descriptions of theirsplendid machine in the public prints were eager to view that work ofmechanical perfection. A group of them were now gathered inside theshelter building. Experts were examining and admiring the _Comet_.
It pleased Mr. Brackett to exhibit this last masterpiece from theInterstate Aero Company’s factory. As a strictly passenger carryingbiplane it had never been equalled. Mr. Brackett showed all itsimprovements, from the new chain drive apparatus to the high pitchrevolution screws. The original model of the _Comet_ had represented amachine weighing over one thousand five hundred pounds with a spread ofthirty-eight by sixty-three and one-half feet, pitch speed five thousandsix hundred feet, average flight record fifty miles. The old style rearpropeller drive had been supplanted by tractor screws. The tubing trussunderneath the center section and skid bracing also in the rib or planesection was a new feature. A divergence from the popular headless screwtraction design was the use of the Curwell type of outriggers. This didaway with an attachment at the end of a monoplane type of fuselage.
It was almost dusk when the visitors began to depart. Dave was givingorders to two of the hangar men to lock up the machine for the night,when an automobile drew rapidly up to the spot. As the young aviatorglanced casually at the machine, he saw that besides the chauffeur itcontained a veiled, girlish form.
The chauffeur stopped the machine directly before the living tent. Heleaped from the auto and approached Mr. Brackett, who was standing nearby.
“Can you direct me to the _Comet_ hangar?” he inquired, touching his cappolitely.
“This is the place,” explained the manufacturer.
“And Mr. Dave Dashaway—do you know where I can find him?”
The young airman overheard this conversation. He stepped forward at oncewith the words:
“I am Dave Dashaway. What can I do for you?”
The chauffeur moved aside with a movement of his head towards theautomobile. Its occupant leaned slightly forward, and extended adaintily gloved hand. As Dave advanced and lifted his cap she spoke tohim in a low, tremulous tone.
“I wish to speak to you for a few moments, Mr. Dashaway,” she said. “Inprivate,” she added, with a glance at the several persons in view.
“Certainly,” responded Dave readily, but in some wonderment. “There isour office, miss. May I assist you?”
The little lady uttered a fluttering sigh as our hero helped her fromthe machine and led the way to the living tent. Hiram had just lighted alamp. Both he and Elmer regarded their friend’s companion in somesurprise. 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 littledistance, 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, whoknows you well.”
“Ah, indeed?” spoke the young airman.
“Yes, I bring you a letter from a friend of my dear father, who is aswell a close friend of your own—Mr. Robert King.”
“I am pleased and interested at once, Miss,” said Dave, trying to setthe young lady at her ease under such strange surroundings. “Mr. Kingis, indeed, a close friend, and his friends are very welcome.”
“You are most kind,” said the visitor, nervously searching for theletter in question, and in her confusion lifting her veil. From her faceDave saw that she was about his own age. There was an anxious look inher eyes. She finally found the letter, and handed it to the youngairman with the explanation:
“We went to Mr. King where he is sick at his home in New York City.”
“Yes, I know,” said Dave. “He wrote me only last week.”
“I am Edna Deane,” proceeded the young lady. “My father is himselfsomething of an invalid and could not come with me to-day. We went toMr. King to ask his help in a case where he only, or somebody like him,could be of any assistance.”
“You mean in the aviation way?” inquired Dave, getting interested.
“Yes, Mr. Dashaway,” replied the young girl. “I want my father toexplain to you about it. He has written our address on theenvelope—Hampton Flats. He wishes to have you make an appointment tomeet him, if you will be so kind.”
“I certainly shall be glad to be of service to any friends of thegentleman who taught me all I know about sky sailing,” began Dave, andthen he added very heartily: “Surely I will come, Miss Deane. To-morrowmorning, if you wish. Shall we say at ten o’clock? I have some fewthings to attend to that will take up my time until then.”
“My father will be very glad,” murmured the girl, gratefully.
A glance at the letter from the veteran aviator, Mr. King, had at onceinfluenced Dave. The old airman wrote briefly, but to the point. Hestated, that were he in shape to do so, he would at once assist Mr.Deane. He asked his former assistant to act in his place, could he atall arrange to do so. Mr. King hinted that there was an opportunity fora great humane act. He said he was sure that when Dave knew its details,his generous heart would respond to an unusual appeal for help in astrangely pathetic case.
Meantime Hiram and Elmer had strolled to a distance. They passed Mr.Brackett, who was seeing to it that the hangar men safely housed his petbiplane for the night. Hiram looked curiously at his companion.
“Well,” he observed, “sort of mysterious, Elmer; eh?”
“You mean that young lady?”
“I do. Automobile—mysterious veiled visitor,” said Hiram with a smile.
“Maybe it’s another of those venturesome college girls wanting to make aflight for the name of it. Dave will tell us when he sees us. Nononsense about him. He’s too busy for romance.”
“That’s so. There she goes, Elmer,” announced Hiram.
The boys made out Dave, cap in hand, walking beside the automobile as itstarted up slowly, and conversing with its occupant. Then, curious andeager to learn the merits of the interesting episode, they proceededtow
ards the living tent, approaching it by a roundabout route so as notto look as if they were “snooping around,” as Hiram put it.
Just as they neared it, Elmer grasped the arm of his companion, bringinghim to a halt with a startling: “S—st!”
“What is it?” demanded Hiram, staring ahead in the direction in whichthe glance of his companion was fixed.
“Look for yourself,” whispered back Elmer, pointing to a crouchingfigure just behind the tent. “See—a man, a lurker, a spy! Who do yousuppose he is; and what is he up to?”