CHAPTER XXV
CONCLUSION
The airship boys at once saw that their fellow aviator was in trouble.Our hero made a direct descent. The _Comet_ came to a standstill besidethe other machine. Its pilot leaped out and approached the group.
Dave at once recognized number seven, and the young man, Pierce, who ranit. He hailed him in a friendly fashion. Then he turned to the fourfarmers. A frowsy, obstinate-looking old fellow with a pitchfork wasevidently the father of the three stalwart youths armed with shotguns.First he regarded the newcomers with surprise, and then suspiciously andwith dislike.
“Why, what is the trouble here?” inquired the young airman.
“That’s the trouble,” growled the old man, pointing to a row of upsetbee hives and a break in the field fence beyond. “Do you see that horseover there making for the woods? Well, that’s old Snorter, my primestanimal. This here young fellow comes down in his b’loon and scares thehoss nigh into fits.”
“Ran out of gasoline and a bolt out of gear,” explained the pilot ofnumber seven.
“You have no right dropping into my yard!” shouted the farmer,wrathfully. “It’s trespassing.”
“That’s right,” drawled the biggest of his sons. “I’m a deputy of thesheriff in this county. You have violated the law. I shall have to takeyou to Millville to court to answer in an action of wilful trespass.”
“Yes, and I shall insist that you be held in a civil suit for damages,”declared another of the sons.
Young Pierce cast a hopeless look at his machine and anxiously at Dave.The latter took in the situation at a glance.
“See here, mister,” he said to the old farmer; “we are desperately sorrythat this has happened.”
“Yah!” sneered the shrewd old schemer—“money talks.”
“How much?” demanded our hero, without hesitation.
“Well, them bees is a special brood. The hives and the fence ain’t much,but there’s old Snorter. He may wander away and get lost; he may fallinto some of those lime pits beyond the timber and get hurt. Then again,he’s so frightened he’ll probably run away at the least scare afterthis. One hundred dollars, I told this young man here.”
“But I haven’t got it,” cried Pierce. “I offered to give you an order onWashington, and you won’t take it.”
“Not I,” retorted the hard-fisted old fellow. “Cash down on the nailhead.”
“I ran short at Savannah,” explained Pierce to Dave. “I fancied I couldget through with the twenty dollars I had left, being so near home.”
Dave took out his pocket book. The old farmer’s eyes glistened as ourhero handed him five crisp twenty-dollar banknotes.
“Now then, Pierce,” spoke the young airman, “that’s settled. What’s thetrouble with your machine?”
It did not take the expert Dave long to find out. Within half an hour hehad the faulty gear sound as ever. The _Comet_ had a full supply ofgasoline. A transfer of some of it was made to the tanks aboard numberseven.
The farmer and his sons, fully satisfied now, stood watching operations.Hiram and Elmer hustled about, giving their leader and his fellowaviator all the help they could.
“Everything is in trim,” announced our hero, finally. “Good-bye and goodluck.”
Pierce held the hand so generously extended by Dave in a tremulousgrasp. Tears of gratitude and esteem had rushed to his eyes.
“Dashaway,” he said, in a choked, broken voice; “you’re a man, everyinch of you!”
Number seven went aloft. Dave called “all aboard!” Hiram pulled his faceat the mean-spirited old trickster who had bled them. Elmer shook hisfist at the farmer crowd.
“That’s you!” exclaimed Hiram. “Just fitted Pierce out to beat us, anddelayed us, besides.”
“Wasn’t it the best kind of fair play?” challenged Dave.
“So good,” declared Elmer; “that I’d almost rather come in second withthe big heart you’ve got, than think I’d left a fellow airman in thelurch.”
“Well, it’s a free for all now, I hope,” spoke the anxious Hiram. “Whena fellow is so near the winning post as we are, it makes him selfish, Iguess. Yes, you did just right, Dave Dashaway; only, if you see somestray tramp limping along, don’t stop to give him a lift.”
Within an hour the advance pilot of the race, number seven, was nowherein view. Our hero had made a study of this one close rival in the fieldas well as repair the machine. He had found out where it was weak andthe _Comet_ strong. Barring accident, the young pilot of the _Comet_felt sanguine that his machine would reach the winning post first.
The airship boys did some splendid running. They made no stops exceptfor fuel and water. They ate and slept on the wing. Hiram counted themoments and Elmer the miles. At midnight, thirty hours later, they werewithin two hundred miles of Washington.
It was a momentous climax in their earnest young lives. They had circledthe globe. They had overcome every obstacle in their path. They had won,the proud pilot of the _Comet_ and his eager assistants hoped andbelieved.
With a cheer, husky with emotions, seeming to swell up in his heart likea fountain of joy, Hiram Dobbs arose in the machine as it settled downalmost at the very spot whence it had started—“oh, almost years before!”Elmer declared.
Dave Dashaway stepped from the machine. The cares, the hardship, theworry, the doubt of long arduous weeks seemed to fall from him like agarment. He gave one vast sigh of relief and satisfaction. Every eye wasat once directed towards the club house. Some field men came runningfrom the distant hangars.
“Say,” spoke Hiram, with a queer anxious jerk in his voice—“the bulletinboard!”
His heart sank as he ran towards it. Elmer followed close on his trail.There were notations opposite the various numbers. Had someone precededthem—had someone won the race?
And then, after a single glance, Hiram threw his cap up in the air, hisface beaming, and Elmer grasped his hand, delirious with excitement.Dave, coming up, found them dancing about as if half mad with joy.
For the lines on the bulletin board bore only such notations as these:“Number ten—abandoned at Winnipeg.” “Number six—wrecked at Cape Nome.”“Number five—abandoned,” and others “out of commission.”
There were blanks after number seven and number two. As the airship boysstood there, a man came quickly out upon the veranda which held thebulletin board. He cast an excited glance at the travel-worn _Comet_. Hewaved his hand gaily at the three young champions. Then with a piece ofchalk he wrote on the third blank line:
“_Number three, Comet; pilot, Dashaway—first._”
A date, an hour, a minute, even down to odd seconds followed. The worldknew that the airship boys had won the great international prize!
There were so many pleasant and rapidly occurring events transpiringclose on the heels of the great race around the world, that for over twoweeks our hero and his loyal comrades had a busy, interesting time ofit.
Twelve hours after the arrival of the _Comet_, number seven came intothe goal. She was a bird with a broken wing. A patched-up plane told ofa last dash under decided disadvantages.
“Don’t you crow over me, Mr. Dave Dashaway,” said the energetic youngPierce, playfully. “I win second prize, all alone by myself. You threehave to divide yours. But, better than the international trophy, is thebig thing you did for me, and people are going to know about it, too,”declared Pierce, and he kept his word.
Mr. Brackett was very proud of the son who had “made good” in an exploitcalling for more than ordinary ability and grit. To our hero he insistedall the credit was due, and the young airman realized that he had madestrong, lifetime friends.
It seemed to the airship boys the very happiest moment of their lives,the day a dainty little miss drove up to the _Comet_ hangar, and MissEdna Deane, with tears of joy and gratitude, and her lovely face fairlyglowing, told them what heroes they were.
“My brother is res
ting with a relative in England,” she narrated.“Father has gone to bring him home. If you are a thousand miles awayfrom Washington when they return, you must promise, all three of you, tocome to the family reunion, of which you are surely members, as friendsand brothers. Father and brother will have something interesting to sayto you. We are very, very grateful—and, oh, so proud of you!”
“It’s worth something to find a little sister like that,” cried Hiram,as their visitor left them, all sunny smiles and happiness.
“‘Something interesting’ means a right royal reward, of course,” spokeElmer. “Why, fellows, if we keep on, we’ll soon have the capital tostart an aero meet all our own!”
It was just a week after that, early one morning, that the airship boys,seated in the aero association club room, were hailed joyously by anunexpected visitor.
“Why, Mr. Hull!” exclaimed Dave, greeting the newcomer warmly.
The shipwrecked mariner looked like a new man. He wore a spick and spansuit, and was cleanly shaven. He seemed well fed and happy.
“Missed you at Rio,” he announced; “but knew you’d do the square thing.Met a chum who financed me, and came on to get my keg.”
“Which is safe and sound in the storage room here,” announced our hero.
“Well, all we’ve got to do is to get it hauled down to a chemical worksin Washington to get our money—half of it is yours,” observed the oldsalt.
“Say, Mr. Hull,” broke in the irrepressible Hiram; “what in the world isin that keg, anyway?”
“Can’t you guess?” asked the old salt.
“We haven’t the least idea, unless it’s grease.”
“Grease! Ha! ha!” laughed the sailor. “Not much, my lad. Give anotherguess.”
“I don’t see what could be worth such a sum of money as you claim,”returned Hiram, his face showing how puzzled he was.
“You haven’t opened the keg?”
“No,” answered Dave, promptly.
“It ain’t leaked none either?”
“Not enough to count.”
“I am glad o’ that, lads. I wouldn’t want that stuff to git away fromme, after all the trouble I had gittin’ it, an’ all the trouble you hadcarryin’ it so far.”
“But we are wildly excited to know what it is!” cried Hiram. “Pleasedon’t keep us waiting any longer.”
“Hiram has made all sorts of wild guesses,” laughed Dave. “First hethought you had gold dust—but gold dust isn’t greasy.”
“No, it ain’t gold dust.”
“Then what?” pleaded Hiram. “Come, out with it, Mr. Hull.”
“Ambergris,” promptly replied Jabez Hull. “Found it floating on thewater off that island where you met me. I suppose you know it’s worthjust double pure gold an ounce, and so rare that the price never goesdown.”
“Well, what next?” asked Hiram, some time later.
“I don’t know,” answered Dave. But many more adventures were in storefor our hero, and what some of them were will be related in the nextvolume of this series, to be entitled: “Dave Dashaway, Air Champion; Or,Wizard Work in the Clouds.”
So we leave our young friends for the present, happy, honored and stillambitious. They had been leaders and heroes in the aviation field. Theirefforts had been practical and not reckless. They had shown a new coursearound the world. They had proven a new possibility in aerial science,and fame and fortune had been the reward of Dave Dashaway and hisintrepid airship boys.
THE END
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