CHAPTER VII
AT THE AERODROME
Dave Dashaway was greatly startled. All along the line of his airshipexperience Jerry Dawson had crossed his path, always in a threateningand troublesome way. A quick thinker, the young aviator traced a newmenace in this unexpected appearance of the scampish plotter.
“It certainly means no good for either my friends or myself,” reflectedour hero. “What mischief has he been up to inside the aerodrome? Thatflash meant something. What?”
Dave ran on for a bit, but soon discovered that he was wasting time instriving to overtake the fugitive. Jerry had made good his escape amongthe scattered buildings beyond the street corner where he haddisappeared from view.
Dave hurried to the house nearest to the aerodrome. He ran up its stepsand knocked briskly at its door. A woman appeared in response to thesummons.
“I am looking for the people working in the old factory over yonder,”explained Dave, hurriedly.
“Oh, yes, the balloon folks, you mean? They board at my sister’s house.”
“And where is that?”
“Second house from the next corner. Number twenty-seven.”
“Thank you,” said Dave and was off like a flash. “Oh, Mr. King!” hecalled out a moment later, as he recognized the well-known figure of theveteran airman crossing the street just ahead of him.
“Why, Dashaway!” exclaimed Mr. King, in a hearty way. “We’ve beenexpecting you, and I’m glad you’ve come. Grimshaw and Hiram——”
“I’ll tell you later,” interrupted Dave, rather unceremoniously. “Mr.King, get right over to the aerodrome. Something’s up.”
“Why, what do you mean, Dashaway?”
“Mischief is brewing, if I’m not mistaken.”
“Mischief? In what way?”
The young airman lost no time in briefly recounting his discovery. Hehad Mr. King as thoroughly stirred up as himself by the time he hadconcluded his graphic recital.
“This is serious,” declared Mr. King, very much disturbed. “Dawsonagain, eh? It’s easy to guess trouble when that young scapegrace isaround. It fits in with—but that will keep. There is no time to wait.Stay here for a minute.”
The expert aviator dashed into the house, while Dave waited in thestreet. He kept his eye fixed on the aerodrome, half expecting everymoment to see it burst into flames.
“Here we are,” announced Mr. King, reappearing on a run with twocompanions. One of them was Mr. Dale, who grasped Dave’s hand whilehurrying along. The other man Dave had never seen before.
“That is Leblance, our new man,” explained Mr. Dale.
“Don’t delay!” called out Mr. King, excitedly, leading the way, and thegroup reached the entrance to the aerodrome in less than two minutes.
Mr. King unlocked the door. As he opened it he reached in and touchedthe button controlling the electric lights. A blaze of radiance suddenlyilluminated the rambling place, making it as bright as day.
In the center of the shop, supported on a working frame and by the irongirders aloft, was the skeleton of the giant airship. The young aviatorwas eagerly ready for full attention to the object so dear to him. Allhis faculties, however, were for the instant enlisted in an effort totrace out the significance of the surreptitious visit of Jerry Dawson.
“There does not seem to be anything out of place,” said Mr. King, aftera swift survey of the dirigible balloon.
“Oh, but I smell powder,” observed Leblance, sniffing.
“Powder?” repeated Mr. Dale.
“Yes. There has been some kind of an explosion here,” insisted theFrench engineer looking around.
Dave hurried over to the window where he had first discovered JerryDawson. There were a number of tall, slim ladders all about the workingframework. He lifted one of these against the sill of the window aloft.Then he ran up its rounds nimbly.
“Aha!” suddenly exclaimed the young aviator.
“Found something, Dashaway?” called out Mr. King.
“Yes, sir.”
“What is it?”
For reply Dave quickly descended the ladder. He held in one hand asooted tin disc. Its center showed a little heap of hard cinders.
“I found this on the window sill,” he explained.
“What is it?” questioned Mr. Dale.
“I think I guess the motive of Jerry Dawson’s visit now,” said Dave.“The little black box he had under his arm was a camera. This is theflashlight disc.”
“Hello!” exclaimed Mr. King, comprehendingly.
“They have been photographing our balloon!” cried Leblance.
“Exactly,” asserted the young aviator.
The engineer and Mr. Dale exchanged disturbed looks. Mr. King wasthoughtful.
“We might have expected it,” he said, but to Dave only.
“How is that?” inquired our hero.
“I’ll tell you soon as we reach the house. I am glad they did no harm tothe balloon. I hardly think they will try that, Leblance,” he said tothe Frenchman, “but you had better get one of your men to stay on watchhere nights.”
“Yes, yes,” responded Leblance earnestly. “We have been warned, we mustlook out.”
“Come with me, Dashaway,” said Mr. King. “I have a lot to talk over withyou.”
Mr. Dale remained at the aerodrome until Leblance could hunt up one ofhis workmen and place him on watchman’s duty. The aviator led his youngfriend to the boarding house. Dave declared that he was not hungry, buthis host would not consent to this impending talk until he haddispatched a good meal. Then he took him to his own room, locked thedoor to secure them from interruption, and made him take a comfortablearmchair.
“You have arrived in the nick of time, Dashaway,” said Mr. King. “I’vefelt the need of you for some days.”
“I can’t be of much assistance until the airship is finished, I shouldthink,” suggested the young aviator.
“That is true so far as the _Albatross_ is concerned,” agreed Mr. King.“That end of the proposition is in capable hands, I am glad to say. Wehave been very fortunate in securing the services of Leblance. He is anexpert in airship construction, helped to build several models inEurope, and has some splendid new ideas. I am now satisfied that the_Albatross_ will be all that we have hoped for.”
“That is good,” said Dave.
“It seems that our project has made quite a stir in the aviation world,”proceeded Mr. King. “All the clubs are interested, the centralassociation has taken the matter up, and there is a chance of a bulkprize of at least fifty thousand dollars being offered.”
“Grand!” commented Dave, with sparkling eyes. “It’s worth trying for,isn’t it, Mr. King?”
“And we will get it, if there’s no miss in our plans—and no trickery,Dashaway,” asserted the veteran airman, confidently. “I have counted allthe risks and chances. Given fair conditions, I believe our group willsuccessfully make the first airship voyage across the Atlantic.To-morrow I will show you how far we have progressed, and how carefullyLeblance is planning to turn out the finest dirigible ever constructed.It will make you as hopeful and enthusiastic as myself.”
“I’m that already,” insisted the young aviator.
“Very good, but I need your services for a certain phase of theproposition that is worrying me.”
“What is that, Mr. King?”
“Well, Dashaway,” answered the expert airman, “I have reason to believethat we will not be the only contestant in a race across the Atlantic.In fact,” continued Mr. King, seriously, “I am quite certain that therival of the _Albatross_ is being built now.”