CHAPTER X
A MIDNIGHT ALARM
“Why, hello, Hiram Dobbs!”
The young sub-pilot of the _Comet_ turned quickly at the hail. It washalf an hour after the arrival at the Chicago aero grounds. Hiram feltpretty important over the royal reception his comrades and himself hadreceived from the aviation officials. Never too proud to greet a friendof humbler pretensions, however, he turned with his usual broad smile ofgood nature. Then he shot out his hand heartily.
A pale, thin lad, somewhat poorly dressed, had accosted him. Pleased andeager, he clasped the hand Hiram extended.
“Well,” exclaimed the latter, “if it isn’t Will Mason! How in the worlddo you come to be here?”
“You,” answered the lad promptly—“you’re to blame for my getting asplendid outdoor job, fine pay and jolly good people to work for,” andthe speaker’s eyes twinkled.
“Let’s see,” said Hiram, ruminating. “It was at Columbus I met you;wasn’t it?”
“Yes, too sick to keep drudging my life away in the poison air of thezinc works,” nodded Will. “The doctor said I’d last a month longer,maybe. But there was mother, and I had to stick at my post till youkindly interested yourself in me.”
“And Dave Dashaway did the rest by getting you placed with the Chicagocrowd; eh?” added Hiram. “It worked out? Good!”
“It worked out because you started the machinery,” declared the gratefulWill. “Oh, it’s fine, Mr. Dobbs.”
“Hey! what? Wow! O-oh, my!” and, forgetting all dignity, Hiram fellagainst a hangar rope and almost roared. “‘Mister!’” he gasped. “Firsttime in my life I was called that. It will be ‘Professor’ next. Oh, butI’m getting on in the world. I suppose it may come to ‘Sir Hiram Dobbs,’unless we fall down somewhere along the line. Then it will be back toplain Hiram, or just ‘Hi.’ I’m Hiram to my friends, though, always; socall me that and I’ll think you are really a friend.”
Will Mason was bubbling over with delight at his vastly improvedcondition and heartfelt gratitude towards the true friends who hadhelped him attain it. He was full of the subject and Hiram had to listento the details.
Will told how he had a position clear up to the end of the year and adozen prospects for the next season.
“It’s only helping around the hangars for the present,” he explained;“but Mr. King sent word that as soon as he gets well he will give me aregular place among his assistants. I’ve been able to send quite a bitof money to mother. This week there are some amateur airmen here whowant special care for their machines, and I’m making a heap of extras.”
“Grand!” commended Hiram. “You’ll make it. You’re the kind that will.”
“And I feel so much better in health,” added Will. “I’ve gained tenpounds, and I feel just like a bird let out of its cage. That’s yourmachine over yonder; isn’t it?” asked Will, indicating the _Comet_,which was surrounded by interested investigating airmen.
“That’s the winner of the international race around the world, yes,”proclaimed Hiram grandly.
“She looks it,” enthused Will. “I wanted to ask you about the biplane.You’re going to stay here till morning, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I guess that is the programme,” replied Hiram.
“Then you want to house the machine. I heard that some one stole the_Comet_. It was talked around here that some wanted to put the _Comet_out of the race because of her good chances.”
“Oh, is that so?” remarked Hiram.
“So, if you want the machine well taken care of,” proceeded Will, “giveme the pleasure of doing it. You see that hangar over yonder—the onebuilt of light cement blocks? It’s a remodeled storehouse. Belongs toMr. Givins, a rich amateur. I take care of his machine when it’s here.He took a run up to Milwaukee this morning, and won’t be back untilto-morrow, he said. There isn’t a safer, cleaner, more roomy place onthe grounds. You see the windows are barred and there is a great biglock on the doors.”
“Why, say, that’s just famous,” said Hiram. “Dave will be glad to knowof such good accommodations as you offer, Will.”
“Besides,” continued the hangar lad, “I’ll sleep in the place all night.Nobody will run away with the _Comet_ while I am on watch.”
“I believe you,” cried Hiram buoyantly. “Come on, I want you to meetDave. He will be mighty glad to see you.”
Number eight of the contestant group came in at dusk. Number eleven, ahigh power machine, reported an hour later. A wire had come fromPittsburgh announcing the smash—up of number five, nobody hurt, butmachine totally disabled and permanently out of commission.
The young pilot of the _Comet_ had some very pleasant words for WillMason. The offer of the hangar lad to take charge of the _Comet_ for thenight was entirely satisfactory. The local airmen vied in showingattention to their guests, and the eight hours stop was an enliveningbreak in the long expedition before them.
“What’s that you’ve got in that box, Hiram?” asked our hero, as theyleft the association building.
“Some of those fine dainties they set before us at that receptionlunch,” reported Hiram. “I tipped the waiter to put it up for me. ForWill Mason, you see.”
“That’s good,” commended Dave, “Will is a fine-going fellow.”
“Yes, and proud as can be to think you’ll trust him to keep anystragglers away from the _Comet_.”
The boys decided to look in on the machine before returning. A knock atthe door of the hangar brought a sharp mandatory challenge from thevigilant guardian inside.
“Who is there?” demanded Will, approaching the portal.
“Midnight lunch for the watchman!” cried Hiram, in a jolly tone.
“Enter midnight lunch,” ordered Will, unlocking and swinging open thedoor.
“You are pretty fine and cozy here,” remarked Dave.
A lantern burned on a shelf. Will had made a comfortable bed on a tiltedboard. He smacked his lips as Hiram disclosed the contents of the box.
“Why, it is a regular banquet,” declared the pleased lad. “What withthat and my reading there’s no danger of my going to sleep.”
Hiram picked up a book lying on the shelf and read its title.
“H’m,” he remarked, “‘Advanced Aeronautics—1850.’ Say, this must seemqueer along with the flying machines of to-day.”
“It’s almost funny in places,” explained Will. “I wonder what those oldfellows with their big awkward gas bags would think of the nifty machinehere, and a trip around the world in it, easy as a Pullman sleeper.”
“We don’t know that yet,” observed Dave. “There are probably some veryunusual experiences ahead of us.”
“Oh, well, we’ll take it as it comes, a section at a time,” said Hiram.“With Dave Dashaway at the helm, we simply can’t fail.”
They were a sanguine, light-hearted group. The crew of the _Comet_chatted in a friendly way with Will for a few minutes. Then the triorepaired to a little hotel just outside the grounds. The association hadmade arrangements for them there. The young airman left word to becalled at daylight and the comrades were shown to a doubled-bedded room.
“This is pretty fine,” observed Hiram, bunking in with Elmer andstretching himself luxuriously. “There won’t be a lot more of it forsome time to come, so let’s see who can sleep soundest.”
Our hero was certainly the expert aviator of the group. He did not carryoff the laurels in the slumber field, however. His comrades wrapped inprofound sleep, Dave awoke and with a shock.
It must have been about three o’clock. It seemed to the young airman asthough a cannon had gone off near by. His ears still rang with theechoes. Dave found the window frames of the room were still rattling.
“Wonder what that was?” he mused. He glanced towards the windows, butthere was no glare of fire. Perfect stillness reigned outside. About toleave the solution of the question until daybreak, our hero listenedintently as he heard someone in
the next room spring from bed, cross theroom hurriedly and apparently pick up a telephone receiver.
“Hello. This the hotel office?” fell upon Dave’s hearing. “All right.Say, what was that just went off? Wait a minute? All right.”
There was a brief lapse of silence. Then the bell in the next apartmentrang out sharply. A message seemed to come over the wire, the youngairman could catch its crackling echoes.
“What’s that!” exclaimed the man at the ’phone. “Explosion at the aerogrounds? Is that so? Hangar and machine blown to pieces! What was it?Oh, dynamite! Well! well!”
With a start and a thrill the young aviator sprang out of bed.