by Roy Rockwood
CHAPTER III
“TARGET PRACTICE”
“Why, I say!” exclaimed the tramp with a wondering stare at Hiram, “youdon’t seem glad at all.”
“It isn’t him, you see,” responded Hiram dubiously. “Oh, yes,” hehastened to add, noticing the injured way Borden took it, “I’m glad youare here to draw a picture of the man who tried to blow us up, but Iwas almost sure it was—well, a fellow we know, and have every reason tofear. But it isn’t!”
“I see, I see,” murmured the tramp thoughtfully, and he ran his eyemore critically than ever over his handiwork. “Ye-es,” he continuedslowly, “it’s a pretty fair picture. He doesn’t seem familiar to you;eh?”
“No, I don’t remember ever having seen a face like that before,”answered Hiram, doubtfully.
“Just as well, I reckon. He’d be no advantage to anybody, that fellowwouldn’t. Well, that’s the fellow you want to go after, provided youintend to.”
“Dave will,” declared Hiram with vim. “There’s some mean hangers-on inour line, and lots of jealousy, and it’s led to danger and loss for usseveral times before this. The management here will take this matterup, if we make a complaint about it. Dave’s going to. I could see thatfrom the look on his face when he went off just now. Thanks!” heshouted to a young fellow on a motor cycle who flashed by, flipping anenvelope to Hiram. He had a gold braided “M” on his cap, indicatingthat he was a grounds messenger acting as postboy in distributing themail to the various hangars. “Why,” added Hiram with increasedanimation of manner, as he scanned the printed words in one corner ofthe envelope, “it’s from Chicago, and the headquarters of theInternational Meet Association we were talking about not an hour ago. Iwonder——”
Hiram strolled off by himself, looking out for Dave, and building allkinds of air castles. In about five minutes his chum put in anappearance. Hiram ran towards him, waving the envelope, and placed itin his hands. Dave opened it. His assistant watched his face keenly,and was gratified to note that it assumed a pleased expression.
“It’s from the people offering all those prizes we were talking about;isn’t it, Dave?” questioned his eager assistant.
“Yes,” replied the other, “it’s from the committee of the bigInternational meet. They invite us to participate, Hiram.”
“Us?” repeated Hiram—“Oh, yes! You can be sure they’d ask you, though.What you going to do about it?”
“Oh, we’ll think it over. They write that they are sending the details,such as rules and restrictions, in a later mail. We’ll study them whenthey come.”
Of course Hiram, in his impetuous way, was ready to take up anyproposition in the aviation line, no matter how important. To him Davewas the one champion in the field able to compete with all rivals. Hehad been with Dave long enough, however, to get used to his methodicalbusiness-like ways. Hiram was eager to plunge at once into the meritsof the new proposition, but he knew that Dave had put the matter asideuntil he was ready to take it up for real action.
“Oh, say, Dave,” Hiram changed the subject, “come along till I show youthe picture our tramp friend has drawn. That’s the man who tried toblow us up,” he announced, as they reached the side of the hangar wherethe sheet of manilla paper was tacked.
Dave surveyed the sketch critically. He saw at a glance that the artisthad caught some strong facial characteristics of the person whoselikeness he had attempted to draw. The young birdman shook his headslowly.
“Don’t know him?” broke in Hiram questioningly—“neither do I. Anybodywould again, though, if that sketch looks like him. See here, Dave,”and Hiram was very serious and impressive, “it’s just such mean tricksas this one that have been the start of all kinds of trouble for us. Wewant to nip it in the bud this time. What do they say up at the office?”
“They promise a thorough investigation. There has been quite a lot ofvandal work at the different meets, and they say they will spare nopains, or expense, to run down the fellows who are discrediting ourexhibitions. Want to speak to me?” asked Dave in a kindly tone,noticing the tramp hovering about near them as if he had something onhis mind.
“Why, yes,” answered Borden. “You fellows have been mighty good to me,and I feel as if I owed you something. I’m no detective, or anything ofthat sort, but if it’s a point to you to find out something about theoriginal of that picture——”
“I should say it was!” interrupted Hiram, strenuously.
“Then, as I’m the one who saw him closest, and who know him best, maybeI’d be luckiest in recognizing him on sight. I’ll take a little scurryaround, if you say so, and try to run him down, or head him off, andfind out what’s back all this.”
“Vernon, our old-time enemy is back of it, or else some envious chapswho think you may go to this new meet, and who want to keep you out ofit because they know you’ll win,” whispered Hiram to Dave.
“That is a very good idea,” said the latter to Borden. “You think yousaw this same man hanging around the grounds last evening? You mightcome across him again by keeping your eyes open. Suppose you do thatnow? Here’s a little change you may need,” and the young aviatorslipped some silver coins into the man’s hand. “Hiram, the managementhere are talking about a bonus-flight the end of this week. I’minterested and have promised to meet with the directors in an hour. Isuppose you want to take your regular fly with the _Scout_?”
“I’ve counted on it,” replied Hiram promptly, “but some one ought tokeep a close watch around the hangar, I suppose.”
“Oh, I don’t think we’ll be troubled in the day time,” answered Dave.“You can arrange with the grounds watchman to look in on our propertyfrom time to time. You won’t be gone very long, I suppose?”
“Oh, just a scurry across country, and back,” replied Hiram, with anonchalance manifestly affected, and Dave smiled to himself, suspectingthat his young assistant was up to something as he recalled to his mindthe mysterious bags that Hiram had been making.
Surely enough, those same bags played a part in the later proceedingsof the ardent young amateur airman. The tramp had started off on hismission, promising to report his possible discoveries that sameevening. Dave followed him in the direction of the office of thegrounds. Hiram, left alone, bustled about in the most active enjoymentof one of those occasions when he was given a chance to test out theknowledge of air-sailing he had acquired under the tuition of hisgifted chum. He threw open the doors of the hangar, and, as the brightsunlight streamed in, stood in a sort of rapt dream surveying the twomachines exposed to his view.
“The beauties!” he cried, his sparkling eyes resting first upon the_Ariel_ and then upon the _Scout_.
The _Ariel_ was the very latest model in the aeroplane line. Itsucceeded the famous _Comet_. That was the fine machine in which Daveand his friends had made their trip around the world. The _Comet_ hadbeen built more for rough usage and staying power, than for fancysprints or stunts. It was now an honored relic in the show rooms of theInterstate Aero Company. Only a few weeks before the presentintroduction of the reader to our young hero, Mr. Brackett haddelighted his young protégé by shipping to him, at the Midlothiangrounds, the latest model in air craft.
The _Ariel_ flew as a parasol-type biplane. It gratified Dave to notethat the manufacturer had followed out many incidental suggestions he,himself, had made from time to time, when visiting the plant which Mr.Brackett practically owned. The main planes of the new machine enabledeasy entrance to, and exit from, the cockpit. The pilot had anunhampered view in all directions. The craft had a maximum span ofthirty-five feet and a chord of seven feet.
The area of the main planes was two hundred and twenty-five squarefeet. The over-all length of the machine was twenty-five feet, whilethe weight empty, was nine hundred pounds. The motor was of radialconstruction and of the six-cylinder type, having a bore and stroke offive by six inches respectively. A speed of about eighty miles per hourwas easily attained by the mach
ine loaded with fifty gallons ofgasoline and ten of lubricant, as an average for a three-hour flight.
“Want some help?” inquired a man from a neighboring hangar, strollingup to the spot.
“Just a mere lift,” replied Hiram briskly. “The little _Scout_ actsjust as anxious to get up cloud-chasing as I am.”
“Ready,” announced the helper, getting into position.
“Let her go,” ordered the enthusiastic young airman in a tone like ahurrah, his quivering fingers clutching wheel and control, andthrilling to the tips with animation and delight.
It was a superb day. Air, sky and wind currents were propitious for aneasy flight. To Hiram there was nothing in the world equal to thatdelightful sensation of skimming through the air like a bird. It wasalmost rapture to realize that the turn of a wrist, or the pressure ofhis foot sent the airy, graceful fabric of steel and wood far aloft,like a pinion-poised eagle, ascending safely through space as would aspeeding swallow arrow-aimed for a long, deep dive.
Hiram struck a course due west, once aloft at a convenient level. Eyesand mind were fixed upon a direct point in view. At the end of an hourhe was out of sight of the camp and the air craft practicing in thevicinity of the exhibition grounds.
Between two settlements, some fifteen miles apart, Hiram began todescend. It was where a two mile reach of level pasture landintervened, dotted here and there with underbrush and stunted trees.The _Scout_ landed and its young pilot alighted. Under one arm hecarried some sheets of white paper. He halted to place one of these onthe ground, holding it flat by stones weighing down its corners. Hethen proceeded fully half a mile farther, again placed a sheet on theground, gradually, in like manner, making a circle of fully a mile anda half. Finally he came back to the _Scout_, and got up into the airagain.
“Target practice!” chuckled Hiram, as he circled away from the spot,made a sharp turn and volplaned full speed, as though aiming to land,nose first, directly upon the first white sheet in his course. Hirammade a magnificent dive. He swung over the control so that fifty feetfrom the ground the machine turned the reverse arc of a circle ofnearly two hundred feet. His hand shot down beside him and grasped oneof the bags, lifted it, aimed it and practically fired it at the“target” in view.
“Missed,” he grimly observed, but quite pleased all the same, for thebag landed flat and did not roll, and lay not two feet away from itsintended mark.
“Hit it!” crowed the excited Hiram as, with a second swoop, he made adirect hit of the second target with a second bag. The third was amiss. The fourth was like the second.
“If I can make it that good, what can’t Dave Dashaway do?” soliloquizedthe young aeronaut, as he gathered up the bags and replaced them in the_Scout_. “I’ll spring the scheme on him just as soon as he makes up hismind to go into that International contest, which he’s just _got_ todo!”
Hiram went afloat once more, determined on a swift run west, a turn,and then a course homeward bound.
“Hum” he chuckled. “If any of the airmen saw my maneuvers with thosebags they’d think I was practicing to go over to Europe and drop bombs.Now what does that mean?” murmured the lad suddenly, and, with a quickstart, Hiram slackened his speed, to study out the details of a livelyscene in progress directly beneath him.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
