by Roy Rockwood
Produced by Sean Pobuda
DAVE DASHAWAY AND HIS HYDROPLANE
Or Daring Adventures Over The Great Lakes
By Roy Rockwood
CHAPTER I
THE YOUNG AVIATOR
"Telegram, sir."
"Who for?"
"Dave Dashaway."
"I'll take it."
The messenger boy who had just entered the hangar of the great prizemonoplane of the aero meet at Columbus, stared wonderingly about himwhile the man in charge of the place receipted for the telegram.
The lad had never been in so queer a place before. He was a lively,active city boy, but the closest he had ever seen an airship was adistance away and five hundred feet up in the air. Now, with bigwonder eyes he stared at the strange appearing machine. His fingersmoved restlessly, like a street-urchin surveying an automobile andlonging to blow its horn.
The man in charge of the place attracted his attention, too. He hadonly one arm and limped when he walked. His face was scarred and helooked like a war veteran. The only battles this old warrior hadbeen in, however, were fights with the elements. He was a famous"wind wagon" man who had sustained a terrible fall in an endurancerace. It had crippled him for life. Now he followed the variousprofessional meets for a living, and also ran an aviation school foramateurs. His name was John Grimshaw.
The messenger boy took a last look about the place and left. Theold man put on a cap, went to the door and rather gruesomely facedthe elements.
"A cold drizzling rain and gusty weather generally," he said tohimself in a grumbling tone. "I'll face it any time for Dashaway,though. The telegram may be important."
The big aero field looked lonely and gloomy as the man crossed it.Lights showed here and there in the various buildings scatteredabout the enclosure. The ground was wet and soft. The rain came inchilling dashes. Old Grimshaw breasted the storm, and after half amile's walk came to a hangar a good deal like the one he had left.There was a light inside.
"Hello, there!" he sang out in his big foghorn voice, thrusting thedoor open with his foot and getting under the shelter, and shakingthe rain from his head and shoulders.
Two boys were the occupants of the place. They had a lamp on thetable, upon which was outspread pictures and plans of airships. Theolder of the two got up from his chair with a pleasant smiling face.
"Why, it's Mr. Grimshaw!" he exclaimed.
"That's who it is," joined in the other boy cheerily. "Say, you'rewelcome, too. We were looking over some sketches of new machines,and you can tell us lots about them, you know."
"Got to get back to my own quarters," declared Grimshaw. "Someother time about those pictures. Boy brought a telegram to Mr.King's hangar. It's for you, Dashaway."
"For me?" inquired the lad who had first addressed the visitor.
"Yes. Here it is. Mr. King's away, but if you need me for anythinglet me know."
"I'm always needing you," replied Dave Dashaway. "I don't know whatwe'd do without you."
The young aviator--for such he was in fact and reality--took theproffered envelope. He tore open its end and read the enclosurerapidly.
"Why," he said, "this is strange."
"Any answer? Need me?" asked Grimshaw, moving towards the door.
"No, thank you," replied Dave in a vague, bothered way that made hiscompanion and chum, Hiram Dobbs, study his face with someperplexity.
"I'd better get back home, then," said the old man. "Fine weatherfor hydroplanes this, eh?"
Both Dave and Hiram proceeded to the door with the grim old fellowwho had so kindly taught them all they knew about aeronautics. Whentheir visitor had departed, Dave went back to the table. He satdown and perused the telegram once more. Then he sat lookingfixedly at it, as if he was studying some hard problem. Hiram stoodit as long as he could. Then he burst out impetuously:
"What is it, Dave?"
"I'm trying to find out," was the abstracted reply.
"Who is it from?"
"The Interstate Aeroplane Co."
That name meant a good deal to Hiram Dobbs, and a great deal more toDave Dashaway. It marked the starting point in the aviation careerof the latter, and that in its turn had meant a first step up theladder for his faithful comrade, Hiram.
In the first volume of this series, entitled:
"Dave Dashaway, the Young Aviator; Or, In the Clouds for Fame andFortune," the career of Dave Dashaway has been told. The father ofthe young airman had been a noted balloonist, and when he died amean old skinflint named Silas Warner had been appointed Dave'sguardian. Warner had acted the tyrant and hard taskmaster for theyouth. A natural love for aeronautics had been born in Dave. Hehad made an airship model which his guardian had maliciouslydestroyed. Warner had also appropriated a package droppedaccidentally by a famous aviator, named Robert King, from amonoplane.
Dave had found this package, containing money, a watch and a medalgreatly prized by Mr. King. Dave resolved that this property shouldbe restored to the airman. He got hold of the lost articles, whichhis guardian had secreted, and ran away from home.
After various adventures, during which he was robbed of the airman'sproperty, Dave managed to reach the aero meet at Fairfield. Hefound Robert King and described to him the boy thief. The airmantook a fancy to Dave from the nerve and ability he showed inexperimenting with a parachute garment, and hired him.
About the same time Hiram Dobbs came along, ambitious to change hisfarm life for an aviation career, and secured work helping about thegrounds. Mr. King sent Dave to Grimshaw for training. TheInterstate Aeroplane Co. wanted to exhibit its Baby Racer, a novelbiplane. Dave made a successful demonstration, and won theadmiration and good will of the company.
In a few weeks time Dave scored a big success and won severaltrophies. His final exploit was taking the place of an aviator whohad fainted away in his monoplane, and winning the race for Mr.King's machine. Dave was now the proud possessor of a pilot'slicense, and had fairly entered the professional field.
The thief who had stolen Mr. King's property from Dave, a gracelessyouth named Gregg, was found, and the property recovered. He hadalso got hold of some papers that belonged to Dave's father. Greggthrough these had obtained a trace of a Mr. Dale, a great friend ofthe dead balloonist. He had made Mr. Dale believe he was the realDave Dashaway, until he was unmasked.
Another bad boy Dave had run across was named Jerry Dawson. Fromthe start in his career as an airman this youth had been an enemy.Dave had succeeded him in the employ of Mr. King, Jerry having beendischarged in disgrace. Jerry tried to "get even," as he called it,by trying to wreck Mr. King's monoplane, the Aegis. He alsobetrayed Dave's whereabouts to his guardian. Because Dave was rightand Jerry wrong, there plots rebounded on the schemer and did Daveno harm.
Jerry and his father were exposed. They still followed the variousmeets, however, just as Mr. King and Dave and Hiram did, but theywere shunned by all reputable airmen.
After leaving the aero meet at Dayton the proud possessor of atrophy as winner of a one hundred mile dash, Dave now found himselfand his friends on the aero, grounds at Columbus. This was a summerresort located on Lake Michigan. A two weeks' programme had beenarranged, in which Dave was to give exhibitions for his employers oftheir new model hydroplane.
Hiram was practicing for a flight in the Baby Racer. The twofriends that rainy summer evening were interested in plans for thecoming meet and aviation business generally. The arrival of thetelegram once more introduces the reader to Dave Dashaway, nowpo
pularly known as the young aviator.
The telegram which Grimshaw had brought to Dave was dated at theheadquarters of the Interstate Aeroplane Co., some three hundredmiles distant. It was addressed to Dave in care of Mr. King, and itwas signed by the manager of the company. It read as follows:
"Our sales agent, Timmins, reported from your quarters at Columbusthree days ago. Was due at Kewaukee this morning on big contractwith County Fair Amusement Co. Wired Northern Hotel there, where wehad forwarded all the contracts and papers, and he is not there.Find him at any expense, and get him to Kewaukee before to-morrowmorning, or the Star Aero Co. will get the order. Fear some trick.This means ten thousand dollars to us."
Dave read and reread this message, weighing every word in his mindas he did so. Hiram sat watching him in a fever of suspense andanxiety. Finally he exclaimed:
"See here, Dave Dashaway, is that Greek you can't make out, or haveyou gone to sleep?"
"I was only trying to figure out this telegram," replied Davethoughtfully. "Here, read it for yourself, and see what you make ofit."
The young aviator passed the yellow sheet over to his curiousfriend. The latter scanned it rapidly. Then, with startlingsuddenness, his face twitching with excitement, he jumped to hisfeet.
"What do I make of it?" shouted Hiram. "Just what the telegramsays--a trick! It's come all over me in a flash. Why, Dick, I knowall about it."
