CHAPTER XIX
ANOTHER MISTAKE
Dave Dashaway’s limbs were stiff and his lips were sore. He could notmove nor speak. He tried to smile to reassure the farmer boy, who lookedstartled and scared.
The latter swept aside the loose litter of straw and bags. The minute hegot a view of Dave’s condition he turned pale, jumped down from thewheel hub and shouted out wildly:
“Father, father—come here quick!”
The dog kept running around the wagon making a great ado. Finally someone seemed to come from the house in response to the call of the farmerboy, for a voice inquired:
“What’s the row here?”
“A boy in that wagon box.”
“Some tramp, I suppose.”
“But he’s all tied up with ropes. There’s even something tied in hismouth, so he can’t talk—only stare and grin.”
“You don’t say!”
“Yes, I do. Look for yourself.”
“Well! well! well!”
As the farmer lifted himself up on the wagon box and took a look atDave, his eyes grew big as saucers. He felt along the cord comingtightly across Dave’s cheeks and of the rope binding his body.
“Jared, run into the house, quick, and get your mother’s scissors,” heordered.
The old man hoisted himself to the edge of the wagon box, and simplygaped at Dave, as if too puzzled to figure out how his strange situationhad come about.
“Here’s the scissors, father,” finally reported the boy, who had hurriedinto the house and out of it again.
The old man went to work on Dave as tenderly as if he had been a kitten.He carefully snipped the gag cords.
“Bless me!” he said, as he noticed the big red welts across Dave’s face.“This is mighty cruel I tell you. Now then,” as he cut the ropes athands and feet, “get up and tell us what this means.”
Dave tried to and failed. His tongue was so dry and swollen that hecould not articulate. His whole body was numb and spiritless. The farmersaw his helplessness, ordered his son to let down the high tailboard ofthe wagon, and they gradually slid Dave to the ground and held him up.
Gentle mannered people these, Dave decided, and he was ashamed ofhimself for ever thinking that they were parties to the kidnapping plotof the two men who had captured him the night previous.
“Walk him a bit, Jared, softly now, softly,” the farmer said. “He’s in amortal bad fix, circulation nigh stopped and weak as a cat. I reckonwe’d better get him into the house.”
The farmer’s wife looked surprised as her husband carried Dave to acouch in the family sitting room and placed him upon it.
“Why, what’s this?” she exclaimed.
“It’s either a measly trick or attempted killing,” replied the old manindignantly. “Speak up, lad, how did you come in that plight?”
“Water!” was all that Dave could choke out, and the good housewife soonhad a glass at his lips.
“Don’t stand gawking at the poor fellow and pestering him withquestions,” cried the farmer’s wife. “He needs some good hot coffee andsome strengthening food to brace him up,” and the speaker hurried to thekitchen, where Dave could hear the sizzling of bacon.
“I can talk to you now, sir,” he said, but weakly, taking another gulpof the reviving water. “I was kidnapped.”
“Hey!” ejaculated the farmer, with a start.
“Yes, sir.”
“In my wagon?”
“That was a mistake, I believe. Two rough men were hired to tie me upand gag me and put me in a wagon in waiting outside of the aero grounds.They mistook yours for the one they should have put me in.”
“Gracious!”
“They went back into the grounds, and you came along and drove me offwith you before they returned.”
“You don’t mean to say you’ve been lying in that wagon ever since lastevening?”
“I do,” replied Dave.
“Why didn’t you kick and holler?”
“How could I?”
“That’s so. Well, you just get a bit of breakfast and mended up, andI’ll drive you back to town. I hope you intend to get those crittersarrested.”
“I certainly shall try and find them,” said Dave.
In a very few minutes our hero was as good as ever, as the saying goes.He was young, healthy, active, and as soon as his blood got tocirculating, the stiffness and soreness began to go away.
He was better than ever, he told himself, after a breakfast so elegant,home-like, and plentiful, that he made the farmer’s wife flush withpleasure over his compliments.
The farmer’s boy took particular interest in Dave, when he learned thathe was employed among “the balloon men.” Dave did not go into details ormention names, for he did not want anything to get out about hiskidnapping until he had consulted Mr. King.
He was anxious and glad, when two hours later, the farmer drew up hishorse at the main entrance to the aero grounds. Dave made the man accepta dollar for all his trouble, which the farmer took reluctantly, sayinghe would invest it in kitchen aprons for his wife. Dave also told himhow to send word to him, if he wished to visit the meet any day duringthe week.
“You can count on free passes,” said Dave.
“Thank you, that will be fine,” nodded the delighted farmer as he droveoff.
Dave dashed breathlessly through the big gateway. He had simply to lifthis hand to the gatekeeper, who passed him in with a nod, knowing himand not requiring him to show his entrance ticket. Then Dave ran downthe course, heading in the direction of the hangars. All his formeranxieties came back to him. He was safe and free himself, but what hadhappened after his two captors had disposed of him?
“They had tools, they talked of the _Aegis_,” soliloquized Dave. “Theywere up to some harm for Mr. King, just the same as myself. Oh, dear, Ihope nothing has happened to the monoplane!”
Dave passed the building where Hiram made his headquarters. That friendwould of course know of his strange spell of absence. Hiram couldprobably relieve his present worry or heighten it, but Dave felt thathis first duty was to his employer.
“Hold on, there. Hi, stop, Dave—Dave Dashaway!”
This call was bawled out from a window in the building Dave had justpassed. At once he recognized the voice of his friend. Turning and halfhalting, Dave made out Hiram waving his hand frantically.
“Can’t stop—see you later,” shouted Dave.
“Must stop.”
Hiram never waited to make for a door. He jumped recklessly from thewindow, ran down the road, and overtook his friend.
“Say,” he cried, all excitement and curiosity, “where have you been?”
“Long story. Want to see Mr. King first. Have you seen him?”
“Have I seen him?” repeated Hiram volubly. “He woke me up at midnight,worried to death about you. Made me get up and join him in a search. Hesaid it wasn’t like you to be off skylarking, with all there was tothink about, arrange and do for today’s flight.”
“He was right there.”
“I knew it, and told him so,” said Hiram. “Then he got thinking therewas foul play somewhere.”
“There was,” assented Dave.
“That Jerry Dawson?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“Not positively. Keep along with me, and I’ll tell you all about it. I’mon pins and needles till I reach Mr. King. Say, Hiram, answer me onequestion.”
“Yes, sir!”
“Has anything happened to the _Aegis_?”
“Why, what could happen?” inquired Hiram in a puzzled way.
“It’s all right?”
“It was an hour ago, when I was up at the camp. Mr. King was oilingthings up himself, and in a great stew about you, but the _Aegis_ wasthe same old beauty.”
Dave heaved an immense sigh of relief. They were just then passing theshed into which he had run to escape his pursuers the eve
ning previous.Dave was about to point it out to his companion and relate hisadventures, when he noticed a big placard on the side of the shed.
“What’s that, Hiram?” he asked.
“Oh, that?” repeated Hiram. “It’s the talk of the meet. That’s Marvin’smonoplane, you know.”
“Yes,” nodded Dave.
“Well, some one sneaked into the hangar last night, when all hands wereaway, and wrecked the machine.”
“Why!” exclaimed Dave suddenly—and then added to himself: “Iunderstand!”
“That placard,” continued Hiram, “is an offer of a reward of one hundreddollars for the detection of the vandals who did the dastardly work.”
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