CHAPTER XIX

  ARIEL II

  “Hold me, Bruce! I’m seeing things!” gasped Hiram Dobbs, halfwhimsically.

  “You’re seeing Dave Dashaway. Both of us are. Oh, hooray!”

  “And the _Ariel_——”

  “A new _Ariel_—_Ariel II_; don’t you see? Brace up—hurry! Don’t youunderstand that everything has come out all right at last?”

  It was nine o’clock in the morning of the great day. All the entrantswere expected to report within the ensuing sixty minutes. On theSaturday previous those who had not qualified fully had been ruled outof the competition. Some had not supplied the required data. Some hadnot been able to promise the delivery of their machines on the groundsbefore the contest began. Others were mere amateurs in aviatics, withno demonstrated records.

  Those had been anxious, unsatisfactory days for Hiram and Bruce thatsucceeded the strange, yet definite message from Mr. Brackett. Therewas a ray of hope in his explicit direction to go right on, just as ifthere had been no break in the programme laid out by Dave the day theyarrived at the International grounds. Both Hiram and Bruce were verysecretive. They took a flight each day in the _Scout_. They mingledwith the crowds at headquarters. They picked up all the informationpossible and kept in touch with everything going on.

  The Syndicate crowd had gone past their hangar frequently, as if tryingto probe what lay behind their composure and system. Twice they haddetected a lurker outside the hangar, eavesdropping. He got littlesatisfaction, however, for the boys suspected his pretense and talkedof matters a thousand miles away from Mr. Brackett, Dave Dashaway andthe _Ariel_.

  And now, eager, anxious, prepared for disappointment yet hoping,dreaming, they had come down to the grand stand where the inspection ofthe entrants of the day was to take place.

  Valdec and his crowd were very much in evidence. It was characteristicof the juggler airman to assume airs of mystery, distinction andoddness. He wore a score of trumpetry medals, and gave a reckless swingto his machine as he circled the grounds and alighted the nearest tothe stand occupied by the judges. It was plainly to be seen that hebelieved himself the hero of the day. Worthington strutted aroundfollowed by his contingent, some of whom were to take part in variousminor contests after the first day. It had been depressing to Hiram tonote the buoyancy and assurance of this crowd. It nettled him to thinkthat for him the meet, and all appertaining it to, was a hollow farcewithout his chum. Then came the climax. Nearly all the contesting aircraft had reported, and were in full view inside the roped off spacenear the starter’s box. It lacked thirty minutes of the stroke of thebell that would exclude all delinquent contestants, when Bruce, seatedon a bench, suddenly nudged his companion.

  “There’s a beauty,” he remarked and Hiram lifted his rather gloomyglance to inspect a speck of activity cutting the air like a swiftyacht on a clear water course.

  Far to the south the stranger was evidently making a bee-line directfor the center field. Other eyes than those of the boys began toinspect the approaching biplane. As it came nearer its gracefuloutlines, its perfectly true maneuvers, caused attention andspeculation among expert airmen about the stand. The Valdec crowd hadbecome interested. Then the strained gaze of Hiram Dobbs wavered and heburst forth with the characteristic outbreak:

  “Hold me Bruce—I’m seeing things!”

  Then in a sort of delirious transport he allowed his equally excitedcomrade to drag him towards the center field with the ringingannouncement that:

  “Everything has come out all right at last!”

  As they hurried along Hiram stripped off his coat. It revealed him inflight trim, neat and natty, for he had prepared for his very bestappearance, not knowing what might turn up. He threw the garment toBruce with the words: “Take care of it.” Then: “Dave!—Dave!—Dave!” heshouted, tumbled over a rope, and, regaining his feet, stood still, forothers had gathered about the _Ariel II_.

  “Everything’s fixed!” gloated Hiram, eager with delight. “Oh, but thisis grand!”

  Mr. Brackett had suddenly appeared from among the crowd. With him wasthe manager of the meet, and two other officials. Hiram fancied thatthe manufacturer was dilating on the points of the new machine, for hemoved his hand about, making a sweeping movement over this and thatportion of the beautiful mechanism.

  Hiram fixed a look upon the chum of whom he had such good reason tofeel proud. Never had the young aviator looked so completely at hisbest. Dave’s eye was bright, his face bronzed with sunburn. He wore anentirely new outfit. He was paying respectful but intelligent attentionto the questions of those about him.

  “I wonder,” breathed Hiram suddenly. He turned squarely around. It wasin the direction of the Syndicate airship. They had named it the_Whirlwind_. Its pilot had just alighted.

  Valdec stood holding to one of the wings, as if spellbound. His lowerjaw had fallen, his face was a picture of amazement and discomfiture.To Hiram his usually sneering lips seemed drawn and white as he putsome question to Worthington, who stood at his side.

  The latter muttered something. Then his head went forward until hisbig, full neck showed. It was something like a mastiff baffled of itsprey. Hiram Dobbs laughed, he could not help it—a joyous, boyish,delighted laugh, and those about the _Whirlwind_ heard him. He receiveda menacing glance from Valdec. Worthington scowled darkly and showedhis teeth.

  “Dave!” cried Hiram again, watching his chance, and bolting pastseveral persons engaged in admiring inspection of the new _Ariel_.

  His chum leaped from his seat and their hands met. Their eyes also. Inthose of his tutor, and close friend, Hiram read nerve and courage.Somehow, he had a sure conviction that Dave Dashaway had come upon thescene at the last moment determined to win.

  Not a word passed between them. Too many were listening, and Hiram hadsense enough to copy the pleasing composure of his leader. The signalfor clearing the field was given from the judges’ stand. Hiram waved ahand joyously at his chum, and got under the ropes. He made out Mr.Brackett and hurried after him, to find Bruce at his heels. The latterdid not have the professional badge which had admitted the others tothe field.

  “Ah, Dobbs!” greeted the big manufacturer, as Hiram crowded up to hisside. “And you too, Beresford? Taken care of everything, of course?”

  “Just followed orders—sure!” replied Hiram, nodding energetically.

  “It paid; didn’t it?” intimated Mr. Brackett, with a wave of his handtowards the new machine and its pilot.

  “I should say it did!” cried the impetuous young airman. “Oh, how didyou ever bring it all about?”

  “Through one of the friends you and Dashaway seem to have the facultyof gaining everywhere you go,” answered the manufacturer.

  “Was Dave shut up bad—or long?”

  “No. Within twenty-four hours of his capture he was at our plant andhas been practicing every day since. As to the old _Ariel_—what do youthink of _Ariel II_?”

  Hiram was satisfied for the present with the brief explanation made. Inhis own mind he could readily reason out that Borden had, in some way,been instrumental in the escape of Dave.

  “They’re getting ready,” broke in Bruce. He was bubbling over withexcitement and exultation. Mr. Brackett had led them to a section inthe rows just back of the big stand. He had seated himself comfortably,but his two young guests were unable to keep still, and stood up andmoved about, buoyant and expectant.

  “Plain sailing,” announced some one from the next section, reading theprogramme, and a smile of satisfaction showed on the face of the bigaeroplane manufacturer.

  There were twelve entries for this number, for it was a free-for-all,purposely allowed to give air craft builders a chance to show theirmachines. Hiram and Bruce had eyes only for Dave and the new _Ariel_.It left the ground at the signal, smoothly and promptly.

  “Self-starter,” spoke the complacent manufacturer to his young allies.“For grace, lightness and accuracy
we back this, our latest machine,against the world.”

  Even to Hiram, daily in the past the companion of Dave Dashaway in hismarvelous cloud-work, the aspect of the new machine was a revelation.Its progress was noiseless, its sweep sure and scientific. Within fiveminutes after the general ascent was made the boys had but to listen tothe comments going on about them, to realize that on a popular vote_Ariel II_ would be awarded the prize.

  Some of the contesting pilots could not sustain a protracted flight,some of the machines did not work smoothly. The contest narrowed downto six, then to three. The _Whirlwind_ showed great rapidity, but waserratic and shifty at volplane work and drift. Finally Valdecdescended. Dave’s last competitor followed his example. The _Ariel_floated to anchor, buoyant as a swan gliding to rest.

  Fifteen minutes later the official marker ascended the little platformon which rested a great ruled-off blackboard. He set at work on eventnumber one.

  Hiram’s eyes were snapping. Mr. Brackett drew a long breath of mingledassurance and suspense.

  “Hurrah!” yelled Bruce Beresford irrepressibly. Hiram flung his cap upin the air. Mr. Brackett beamed on everybody, and the crowd went wild.

  “Event No. 1—Winner, Machine number five,” the man wrote. That was theawarded numeral of the Brackett entry. “Pilot—Dashaway. Points—thirty.”

  Thus read the chronicle of the initial event on the big programme,awarding to Dave Dashaway the first victory of the meet.

  ------------------------------------------------------------------------